Silent Parity
Leon's gaze rested on the hand held out before him, weighing, measuring, for the space of one heartbeat. There was no hesitation in the offering, no affected modesty—only a firm, unspoken assurance. The red-haired man's fingers stayed open, waiting yet assertive, as if the mere act of extending them held within it the promise of his power. Leon closed the space between them, letting his own hand meet the others in a firm, unyielding clasp, a silent acknowledgment of parity. Strength pressed against strength, calm but deliberate, in a quiet exchange that said more than words could.
"Leon," he said, voice low but certain, carrying a subtle weight that hinted at experience. "Nice to meet you, Zetch."
