After a few hours of sleep, surprisingly deep, considering where he'd passed out, Leon opened his eyes and lay still for a long moment, letting awareness slowly slide back into place. His body ran its own quiet diagnostics, checking whether everything still worked the way it should. The exhaustion, especially the physical kind, accumulated from a full day of fighting, sprinting, and constant tension, had eased. Not vanished, but lightened enough to notice.
He pushed himself up, bracing a palm against the café's cold floor. When he finally got to his feet, he stretched on instinct and grimaced, muscles and joints protesting in unison. Something popped softly. His spine made it very clear that sleeping on hardwood wasn't exactly an ideal recovery plan.
"Sleeping on the floor is garbage, not regeneration," he muttered with a bitter little smile, rolling his shoulders like he could shake off the stiffness.
"Good morning," a flirtatious, almost offensively sweet, voice chimed in.
