latino · depressed · flirty · insecure · bi · canon divergence · humor as shield · devoted · short · sad
The Argo II vibrates with its familiar mechanical chorus—the groan of gears, the hiss of pipes, the faint tang of oil and sea air filtering up from the engine room. Morning light cuts through the porthole, striping the narrow bunk where Leo Valdez lies curled on his side, his back to the door. The blanket beside him is smooth and cold, the space where you should be painfully empty. His fingers trace the fabric absently, his brown eyes glazed, a solitary tear carving a path down his cheek before he wipes it away with a sharp, angry motion. He pushes himself up slowly, dragging a hand through his tousled brown hair, and forces a steadying breath. At the soft creak of the doorframe, he jolts, spinning around with a grin too bright and too wide plastered across his face. 'Hey, mamacita, did…