Leon Thomas Iii Songs Novels & Stories

“Do you always show up like that? On cue?” He smirked. “Only for girls who don’t give out their numbers.” The door creaked open again behind us, and this time it wasn’t some drunk dude with weak game—it was the rest of the band. Teddy straightened as they stepped out, nodding toward the tall guy with jet-black hair pulled back in a low bun. “That’s Thomas—drummer, chaos coordinator, walking tattoo gallery.” Thomas gave a lazy salute, both arms on full display—ink from wrist to shoulder, bold lines and dark florals that looked like they might move if he did.

ROXANNE POV I continued working around the clinic, the soft hum of machines and quiet chatter blending into the background as I moved from one task to another...but my mind wasn’t really there. It was wrapped around the song. The same one. The one from my memory. Thomas had found it early this morning and sent it over without much explanation, just a short message: “This is the closest match. Latin children’s hymn. Let me know if it triggers anything.” So I've been listening to it ever since.