Leonhart hadn't spoken Elian's name in over a month—not since he wired the final payment and ended their contract with one cold sentence. He didn't need to. The silence was enough. The silence was clean.
But memory was not.
That evening, he found himself at a dinner hosted by his father's old friend, Jonathan Reyes. He only came out of courtesy. Leonhart had no interest in family friends or small talk.
Until the door opened—and in walked the boy with the sunlit smile.
"Leonhart," Jonathan said, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You remember my son, don't you? Kevin's finally back from Paris. He's running a café now. Can you believe it?"
Leonhart looked up, expecting a pampered heir or some stiff junior exec. Instead, he saw a young man with flour on his cheek and mismatched socks beneath leather shoes. Kevin grinned, holding out his hand.
"Nice to meet you again," Kevin said cheerfully. "Though I guess the last time we 'met,' you were just the name behind the office tower my coffee victim cursed about."
Leonhart blinked. "You spilled coffee on Elian."
Kevin chuckled. "Yup. It wasn't a good day for silk."
The name hung in the air. Elian. Just hearing it again lit a slow burn behind Leonhart's ribs.
Dinner continued with stories and laughter. Kevin chatted effortlessly, bouncing between topics with sincere energy. Leonhart listened more than he spoke, eyes narrowing each time Kevin said something that reminded him of the opposite of Elian—honesty where Elian used charm, awkwardness where Elian used seduction.
And yet… there was something grounding about it.
Later, on the Reyes' balcony, Leonhart found himself alone with Kevin. The boy leaned on the rail, biting into a macaron from his own café box, offering one with a crooked smile.
"They're not poisoned, I promise."
Leonhart declined. "You're not what I expected."
Kevin tilted his head. "Let me guess. You expected some spoiled heir with a Rolex and a Harvard ring?"
"Close."
"I'm full of surprises." Kevin bit into another cookie. "So… Elian. Was he your boyfriend?"
Leonhart didn't answer right away. "Something like that."
Kevin's voice softened. "You looked like someone who forgot how to be held."
Leonhart stiffened.
"I'm sorry," Kevin added quickly. "That was too much. I—"
"No." Leonhart's voice was low. "You're just the first person to say something real in a long time."
Kevin didn't press. He just stood beside him, letting the silence speak.
For the first time since Elian left, Leonhart didn't feel like the silence was empty.
It felt… healing.
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