Chapter Text
Vaughanville, 1994
“Wait up! You’re going too fast!” your voice rang out as you ran behind the blond in the vast field. As far as the eye could see, sunflowers in full bloom, their color coming close to that of pure gold – a glorious yellow that threatened to dethrone the sun’s hue. Long blades of grass tickled your bare legs as you sprinted, trying to catch up to your friend.
“The sunset isn’t going to wait for us,” he shot back, but slowed down to take your hand to run at your pace. His hand was sweaty, but you didn’t complain. The gesture felt right, like a puzzle piece fitting into its appropriate place.
The two of you arrived at your destination; a single bench which sat on top of a hill, overlooking the entirety of the field from the gates of heaven. In the summer before Grade 10, you and Leon had discovered this area on a random afternoon when you were going on your obligatory, daily strolls. When you laid your eyes on the gorgeous sunflowers, you screamed and shook Leon’s frame in excitement, amazed at the wondrous sight before you. From that day forward, you referred to it as ‘our secret backyard,’ and visited it whenever you had the chance.
Unceremoniously plopping on the hard bench, you dropped your school bag by your feet, Leon following suit. You leaned on him and closed your eyes, greedily breathing in the scent of fresh air. “I will never get enough of this,” you confessed, more to yourself than him.
He sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and propped his head on yours. “You could say that again.”
That made you look up at him. “Why do you sound upset?”
“I’m not,” he denied. You glared at him and crossed your arms, scooting away from him by an inch. He groaned, “Okay, fine, maybe a bit,” and pulled you back to his side by your bicep, removing all space between you and basically gluing you to him. He really was clingy.
“Go on,” you nodded your head in his direction to encourage him to talk about what was bothering him.
He looked away, a tendency of his whenever he was afraid of admitting something. “It’s dumb, but… I don’t want us to stop being friends.”
A beat passed. “What makes you say that?”
“Many things,” he shrugged, looking at a specific spot on the ground. “University, jobs. Partners,” he whispered that last word, but you caught it.
Truthfully, you understood where he was coming from. As friends who spent the majority of their time together, whether it was to study, hang out, or just appreciate the comfort of the other’s presence, an immense fear instilled itself within you whenever you thought of a time in which you would eventually yet regrettably grow apart. It took the form of an unstoppable, nagging force, eating away at your thoughts at instances where you simply wanted some peace and quiet.
Blinking out of your dreariness, you veiled the turmoil by lightly punching him in the shoulder, attempting to lighten up the mood. “Silly. Even if I do get a boyfriend, I’ll still be your friend. Nothing will change about our friendship.”
“You can’t guarantee that,” he retorted, his hair falling into his eyes as he slightly slid down the bench, his gaze pensively fixated ahead. “I don’t want anyone to take my place.”
The sun was initiating its descent, announcing it to the world by putting on a captivating show in the calm sky. In that moment, though, it felt like you were the only people witnessing its grandeur, a private performance tailored just for the two of you.
You bit your lip in contemplation and once again rested your head against his steady shoulder. He was right; you couldn’t guarantee that. You knew that as much as he did. But you wouldn’t outright say that, because one thing you did know for sure was that you were persistent. If your future didn’t have any room for him, you were willing to single-handedly rewrite your destiny.
Hence, the determination in your tone was unwavering when you boldly affirmed, “Actually, I can guarantee that.”
The birds chirped serenely, returning back to their nests to their little ones. Night was slowly creeping in as the sun sleepily retired, preparing the stage for the moon to shine brilliantly in just a few hours.
“How?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was seeking reassurance from you, even if he didn’t admit it. Over time, you had learned to read him like an open book, intrigued by every expression of his to the point where you had decoded the meaning behind each. And right now, you were certain that he was waiting for you to say something, anything, that would ease the tumultuous tempest that were his thoughts, even if the cure you offered was nothing more than a lie.
Sitting cross-legged and facing him, you lifted your right pinky and nudged him with it, encouraging him to copy you in a wordless gesture. Your knees touched as he folded his. The position couldn’t be too comfortable for him, since his legs were longer than yours, but he didn’t complain.
You hooked your pinkies, staring into his mesmerizing eyes as you vowed with a confidence that surprised you, “We will cross paths in every lifetime, and each time, we’ll be just as inseparable. The same goes for the future. If our paths don’t merge for whatever reason, then that won’t stop us.”
The air felt charged as you spoke, the breeze dancing through your hair. To you, it was more than just a childish promise; it was a verbal pact that chained you to him, one that you were more than inclined to accept, not necessarily caring much about the terms and conditions.
“As for partners…well, you won’t have to worry about that,” you concluded.
Leon playfully smirked as he tightened his pinky around yours. “Are you planning on staying single forever just for me?”
You decided to keep him curious. “Who knows?”
He held your gaze for a moment longer and firmly shook your intertwined pinkies. “Then I’ll gladly accept.”
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Chicago, 2002
For the first time in a long while, your nightmares didn’t plague your dreams. Instead, a sweet memory replayed in your slumber, one that infused your heart with infinite nostalgia and tenderness. Although you hadn’t forgotten about the promise, you also hadn’t thought about it in a while.
As much as you wanted to think of the dream as a coincidence, your intuition was screaming that it was the universe giving you a sign, urging you not to give up on your goal. You weren’t typically one to follow your gut feeling, but this time you had something concrete to work with; an actual lead. Or as Oliveira had mentioned, multiple ones.
You sunk into your bed some more, already deciding to sleep in. Everything would’ve been easier if Leon just showed up at your doorstep and explained himself, but that was comparable to asking for the impossible.
You were just about to close your eyes when your phone buzzed with a new message. Immediately, you threw the covers to the side and reached for it. Had Oliveira found another clue?
Hunter Work
11:42 a.m. | Hey there pretty girl :) I was thinking.. let’s have our 2nd date at mine.
11:42 a.m. | my cooking isn’t half bad. I’ll make u a delicious meal for dinner. what do u say?
11:43 a.m. | Text me movie suggestions ;)
You wouldn’t quite call the feeling settling inside you disappointment, but it came close to it. It was just that you were expecting a text from Hunter so soon.
You had boundaries for yourself, and they didn’t include going over to a guy’s house for a second date. But this could actually be a good idea to catch that man red-handed – if he was bold enough to follow you to Hunter’s home.
In the text you sent back, you agreed on a Thursday, since the bar would be closed due to pipework inspection.
You would make sure to put an end to this little game he was playing at.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
The days leading to the date went by in a flash, work keeping you occupied as always.
Towards the end of your shift on Wednesday night, you were talking to Hunter about your favorite dishes, but were only half-invested in the conversation. Again, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched . It was unnerving. Despite the limited number of people at the bar, you couldn’t spot the leather jacket that had been haunting you.
“Hey, you okay?” asked Hunter, eyeing you with concern. “You look anxious.”
“Hunter, do you also feel observed? Like, right now?” you blurted out. You hadn’t intended to initially, but you needed to hear that you weren’t the only one going crazy over this.
He scoffed, dismissing the thought right away. “Probably just a homeless man outside. Or your imagination,” he joked.
It was a poor attempt at lightening up the mood and getting rid of your worries, but it didn’t help in the slightest. Still, you couldn’t summon the energy to argue with him over a stupid joke. He probably said that in the first place because he thought you were joking. It wasn’t every day that someone got asked such a question.
The conversation was interrupted by a hoard of customers entering the bar, forcing you to shift back into work mode. For once, you were glad you had something to do. Drowning in work sounded better than thinking about that weirdo.
As you turned to greet the customers and take their orders, a voice in your head ordered you to look outside the window.
‘Speak of the devil.’
You gritted your teeth in frustration as you glared at him crossing to the opposite side of the street. How was it that you had lost yet another opportunity to tail him?!
The police would only get involved if any violence was involved, you were sure of that, which meant that you had to put a permanent end to this story yourself.
Next time, he wouldn’t be able to run away.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
The nude lipstick glided on your lips like butter, and when you were done applying it, you pressed your lips together to spread the product evenly and blend it with your lipliner. Humming to the tune of the upbeat song playing from your TV, you set the product aside. After a final once-over in the mirror, you checked the time.
Fortunately, Hunter’s place was just a ten minute drive from yours, and there was no traffic on the roads. You parked your car a few feet from his house and walked up the few steps that led to his porch. Just as you were about to ring the doorbell, the snapping of a twig made you jump on the spot. You might’ve been going nuts, but you could’ve sworn you heard someone whisper a barely audible ‘ shit .’ Your heart hammered against your chest. Was it who you thought it was? Had he really fallen into the trap and followed you here?
There was only one way to find out.
Like a predator approaching its prey, you placed one foot after the other on the lawn as you moved to the large tree, one step bringing you closer to finding out the truth. Finally, you were going to corner him.
You walked around the trunk and were unexpectedly met with the back of a woman shorter than yourself.
Under the streetlights, her curvy figure was apparent. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that reached her thighs, and was currently peeking out her head from the other side. Probably to hide from you .
“Who are you?”
She shrieked and almost fell. Turning around, she looked at you with fearful eyes, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. The picture on her shirt was familiar, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint where you’d seen it before…
Wait, wasn’t that Hunter’s shirt? You were one hundred percent sure he had worn this exact same one multiple times. It was a picture of the band he talked about non-stop.
“What are you doing here? And why are you wearing Hunter’s t-shirt –”
A proper look at her face revealed everything. Messy hair. Runny makeup. Hickeys on her neck. You glanced down. Barefoot.
This wasn’t a trick of the light at all. It slowly dawned on you what was really going on here.
You felt so utterly stupid for ending up in this situation. It took years for you to give dating a try, and when you did, it turned out that you were just naive. Naive enough to think you were worth loving, worth anything more than a fling. Your luck was astonishingly low when it came to men, it seemed. Or you were just blind and ignored the signs telling you not to go for it from the beginning, too immersed in the fantasy of having someone you could call yours exclusively. A person who would stay by your side and accept you for who you were, with all your flaws and imperfections.
‘ Someone like Leon ,’ murmured your heart. But maybe that was exactly your problem. You just couldn’t stop yourself from comparing every guy you met with him. It was foolish of you to think that there could ever be another man like him out there, when it was highly unlikely. Not in a world full of assholes.
“Y/N?” Behind you was the last person you wanted to be around. “What’s going on?”
You stepped to the side and allowed him to see it with his own eyes, refusing to turn around. “I don’t know, Hunter. You tell me.”
On the outside, you were calm, but internally, you were simmering with a rage that was foreign to you. You really didn’t want to look at his disgusting self, but you had to be level-headed. Making a big deal out of this would bother you more than him. Keeping your cool, on the other hand, would do the trick and bring him to the brink of madness.
He didn’t speak for a few seconds, too shocked by you finding out his little secret. Then the nonsense explanations began. “Y/N, please, it wasn’t – it was a mistake –”
“A mistake? Doesn’t seem like one to me,” you coldly interrupted, pointing your purse to the girl, specifically on the bruises on her neck. “In fact, it seemed like a voluntary act to me.”
“I swear, I’m sorry. She’s my ex, she came over today, and–and we were only supposed to talk, but then –”
You held your hand up and stopped him from going on a ramble. “I’ve heard enough.” You fished out your car keys, not even bothering to throw him a glance. “Don’t contact me anymore.”
His hand enclosed around your arm, attempting to stop you from leaving. “Please, can we talk at least? I swear, I like you so fucking much –”
“What, talk like you and your ex did?” you mocked and pushed him away, taking long strides to your car. All the while, his ex was watching the scene unfold like she was part of the audience.
Clearly not willing to let go, he called out and aimlessly banged his fists on the window. “Y/N! Don’t go, please!”
You forgot that he didn’t know how stubborn you could be. You stepped on the gas, wanting – no, needing – to get the hell away from Hunter, both physically and mentally. You couldn’t believe that he was using you as a mere distraction to get over his ex, who he apparently still had feelings for and fucked prior to your date.
Fury and disgust swam in your mind, but above all, disappointment. At Hunter, who lied and charmed his way to win you over as if you were some sort of prize, and at yourself, who fell for a trick as old as time. Were you really that gullible?
You clenched the wheel harder when you almost lost control of the vehicle due to the angry tears blurring your vision. In record time, you were back at your apartment, throwing your bag and coat on the floor without a single care in the world. Thankfully, you didn’t reveal any weakness in front of Hunter, because the last thing you wanted was for him to think he hurt you, even if it wasn’t far from the truth. You would rather spiral in the comfort of your own home than in the one of an unfaithful piece of crap.
The cheerful ringtone of your phone sparked even more rage within you, so you hurriedly took it out from your purse and rejected the call. It didn’t take a genius to guess who it was. You groaned as another one came through, which led to you blocking his number once and for all. You valued your peace, and wouldn’t let an excuse of a man like him ruin it.
Shuffling into the kitchen, you filled the kettle with water and turned it on, deciding on a hot cup of tea to soothe your thoughts. Hunter had other plans for you, apparently, because he was knocking at your door. He really had an outrageous amount of audacity to follow you home and bother you in your safe haven.
You took a deep, calming breath to stop yourself from screaming your lungs out of frustration and walked to the door, phone in hand and ready to call the cops in case he refused to leave.
“Hunter, I specifically told you not to contact –” you swung the door open, “ – me.”
Your assumption was wrong. Terribly wrong.
In that same second, your phone buzzed. You barely tilted the screen to read the message.
P.I. Oliveira
9:16 p.m. | I can confirm that Leon Kennedy is in Chicago. I’ll work on tracking down his address.
Your brain blurred the second part – the first sentence was the only confirmation you needed, enough to twist your insides. You could blame it on the light, your sleep deficiency, or whatever else all you wanted, but you couldn’t deny that the man standing at your door wasn’t Hunter. It was Leon . It was him, in the flesh. Not your imagination misleading you, not a phantom haunting you, not a stranger pranking you, but your best friend standing in front of your very eyes.
Speechless couldn't even begin to describe how you felt. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a potion of ever-consuming feelings stirring together; unfiltered joy, total confusion, and limitless rage. Questions popped up, so many that you couldn’t keep count of them. They demanded answers, which could only be given by the person standing before you.
As if walking on eggshells, you took a single step forward. Nothing happened. He didn’t vanish into thin air. His silhouette didn’t fade. On the contrary, he remained there, gaze burning into you like he was waiting for your next move, anticipating what else you would do.
Compared to your memories of him, he was a bit taller, and you had to properly tilt your head to be face-to-face. Your eyes roamed over the features you were oh so mesmerized by when you were younger, studying them with great detail like your life depended on it. Every single expression of his – you wanted to tattoo it on your mind and analyze each of them with attention. What was he thinking of right now? Did he regret leaving you behind, or was he content with his decision?
On the surface, he looked the same, breathtaking as ever, just more mature, stressed, and…beat-up.
Hold up, were those his bloodstains smearing his cheeks?
The kettle boiled, pulling you out of the spell he had cast on you upon his unforeseen appearance.
“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue like the sweetest whisper, tearing your heart out of its cavity and claiming it as his own, branding his signature on it, and stitching it back into place – so smoothly that no seams were visible.
You were terrified of even uttering his name, as if that was all it took for the universe to keep you apart from him for the rest of eternity. But you did so anyway, because if he had found his way to you once, it would happen again.
It came out more as a plea. “Leon, you’re… oh my God –”
Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms as though you had always belonged there, breathing in your scent. No longer able to withhold the dam of tears, you let it crumble. Your cheeks were stained by the salty drops cascading down your face like a turbulent river, each of them being absorbed by Leon’s shirt, now crumpled in your vice grip as you clung to him for dear life. Your phone was long forgotten by now, probably somewhere on the floor.
With you in his embrace, he shuffled into your apartment and closed the door behind him. Your muffled sobs echoed in the living space as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, as if to prove he was real. To ensure he wasn’t going to walk off again and leave a gaping hole in your chest, one only he was capable of fixing. His scent, something along the lines of citrus and earthy tones, filled your nostrils, invading your senses until everything you could feel was him. Until everything you knew was him.
He had you sit on the sofa, rubbing your back in soothing circles. You felt small in his arms, but safe and secure nonetheless. They snaked around your torso protectively, attempting to stop your frame from shaking, which took a while. “Shh, please don’t cry,” he cooed, planting a soft kiss to the crown of your head. Then, in a lower voice that could’ve been lost in your quiet whimpers, “I don’t deserve your tears.”
The request was quite simple, yet corrosive to your heart. Sniffling, you lifted your head to look at him through your blurry vision. His eyes were blood-shot, either out of exhaustion or tears you hadn’t seen him shed, but they had never appeared more beautiful. The light from the lamp made them impossibly bright, almost crystal-like. Your fingers traced his sharp jawline, inspecting the number of cuts and faint bruises scattered across his face. Holding his face like this was the most effective medicine to calm you down.
“Don’t say that,” you sniffled, hand falling down. “You come back to me after seven years and you’re all bruised up. That’s not fair.”
He copied you, fingertips wiping the area under your eyes with such care that it was impossible not to melt under his searing touch. Then, he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. “I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed out.
Your eyes shut for a second, soaking in the quiet comfort of the moment, and then reopened them. “What happened?” You asked, referring to his appearance.
It was petrifying how fast his eyes darkened. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Just some business I had to take care of,” he answered, casting his gaze to the side. There was a perceptible bite in his tone that wasn’t directed towards you. From the looks of it, it was more of a someone he had to take care of, his bloodied knuckles serving as evidence.
Alarms blared in your head. You didn’t like the sound of him getting in a fight with someone. “Who?”
The answer was straightforward. “That filthy asshole who doesn’t know how to treat you,” he spat with poison, clenching his fist like it disgusted him to even think about it.
On the one hand, you were surprised that he knew about Hunter at all, and that you were going out with him. It could only mean one thing; you weren’t crazy for thinking you were being watched yesterday. Leon had been watching you from the sidelines all this time.
If you thought about it, everything made perfect sense now: he was at the bar and at the restaurant, watching you, observing every interaction of yours, every movement you made. He knew about your whereabouts whereas you had no clue about his. He was stalking you, and he didn’t seem apologetic about it.
On the other hand, you were incredibly irritated that it was his jealousy that caused him to show up at your doorstep, and not because he had missed you or wanted to see you.
You huffed out in disbelief, running a hand through your hair. “Are you kidding me? You show up at my door after all this time out of…jealousy?!”
A thread snapped in your head, your consciousness reminding you of how easy it was for him to choose to leave you behind. To forget about you for years, as if you were mere strangers who crossed paths once. To not come find you much, much earlier than now. It made you feel like a total and pathetic fool. You retreated your hand, coldly gazing at him as you swallowed back the fresh tears that threatened to spill from your ducts.
“Seven years, Leon,” you began, voice cracking with raw emotion as you scooted away from him to maintain a safe distance. As much as his warmth comforted you, it was now setting you on fire. Suppressed emotions floated to the surface, commanding your entire being. With each ticking of the second, you felt like you were losing your mind, Leon being the culprit. If only it were possible for the floor to swallow you whole, giving you the opportunity to just disappear for a while without a care in the world.
“You left without a goodbye,” you pointed out harshly, shoving an accusatory finger in his chest. “Was it that easy for you? Was I that forgettable?” You hoped each sentence was a knife stabbing him in the heart, wanting him to feel a fraction of the same pain he inflicted upon you.
“That’s not true,” he cut you off, brows furrowed as he snapped his eyes to your face.
You shot up from the sofa. “So enlighten me! Tell me what the truth is.”
He sighed, looking away again. He couldn’t meet your eyes – or better yet, he refused to. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he confesses, “I swear, I never wanted to step out of your life. It’s just… at the time, it was the right choice.”
“‘The right choice,’” you mocked, storming to your kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of chamomile tea, the only other medicine that calmed your nerves other than pills.
He followed you like a lost puppy, standing on the other side of the counter to respect the space you needed. “Please, I need you to trust me. You know I wouldn’t lie to you,” he reasoned, his eyes frantically trying to prove the honesty laced in his words. And you believed him, but you were petty and angry at him at that moment, so you would rather bury the fact than admit it.
You scoffed, placing the piece of ceramic down with more force than needed, one that dared to shatter it into millions of pieces. Maybe the action could have calmed you down, but you didn’t care to find out. A couple droplets of the steaming tea met the counter’s surface. “Yeah, right. Just like how you promised you wouldn’t do anything crazy back then, only to go to fuck-knows-where without even caring about letting me know. No letter, no nothing.” It was a bitter reply, sure, but it expressed exactly how you felt.
“If there wasn’t a damn good reason, I would’ve reached out to you. It was for your own safety.” His retort sliced through the air and thickened the tension at the same time. You could feel it; an invisible cord slowly being tethered the more heated the discussion got. At any moment, it could snap, but you couldn’t determine when precisely.
It took a minute for you to formulate your next phrase carefully. “You didn’t have the right to choose what was best for me, and you still don’t.” Even if you were more than ecstatic to have him back in your life, nothing gave him the right to take away your agency from you. Your independence was something you had always valued, even cherished like a lifeline. Because it was your lifeline.
He flexed his palm on the wooden surface and looked at you with pleading eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to protect you.” His index twitched, as if he wanted to reach for you. “That’s all.”
You almost wanted to scream out of sheer frustration. “Don’t you understand? Protection wasn’t what I needed!” Your voice increased significantly as you pointed to yourself, “All you had to do was let me help you, let me stay by your side. Instead, you pushed me away and ended up hurting me. Is that what you define as ‘protection’?”
He was stunned into silence, so you took it as an invitation to go forth. “Because let me tell you, Leon, I don’t want it . Not if it involves making decisions for me out of your own selfishness under the guise of care.”
The thread of tension hadn’t just been snapped – it was reduced to ashes. By the time you were done with your rant, adrenaline was pumping in your veins like a powerful drug. A familiar fire roared within you, ready to set ablaze everything and everyone in its wake.
Neither of you spoke a word for minutes; the silence was too fragile to be broken. But when Leon opened his mouth to speak, it was brief and tentative, just enough to offer you the beginning of a thorough explanation. “After I left you that evening, I was dragged into the mess in Raccoon City.”
Your tea took place at the least of your priorities, and you couldn’t bring your lips to touch it although you were parched. Instead, all your attention was captured by the person standing in front of you, who managed to raise your heartbeat to dangerous levels by that mere revelation.
The nuke that had been dropped on Raccoon City was news that spread like wildfire. You had also heard of it – it had happened three years after the murder of Leon's parents. The government never provided a good enough reason as to why an entire city had been intentionally obliterated, just that there was an uncontainable, deadly outbreak and that it was for the sake of the whole country. Or so they had claimed.
The pitter-patter of raindrops resounded from your windows, acting as background noise in your otherwise dead-silent apartment. Leon drew in a breath, ran his hand through his silky strands, and finally turned to your awaiting expression. He dragged his eyes over every inch of your face, drinking in your features like they alone could offer him solace. The electricity in his gaze was sufficient to make you shudder and cause goosebumps to cover your skin from head to toe. You felt too vulnerable and seen, in ways you didn’t think was possible.
A second later, he opened his mouth yet no sound reached your ears. It seemed like his body and mind were in a bloody battle, like he was contemplating whether to say what he was about to say. Whether it was for the better to keep you in the dark for now. You tried to give him a push by calling his name and walking over to him, wanting him to open up to you.
If the years spent together had taught you one lesson, it was that Leon kept a lot to himself. And right now, there was so much more that he was hiding. He was hesitating, that alone was as clear as day. Affliction and misery were written on his expression, in the way his brows were knitted together, but rushing him wouldn’t help either of you. The only way to coax him to open up was through patience, even though sometimes it was a taxing task to fulfill, like in that moment, for instance. Still, you waited for him to continue at his own pace.
Exhaling, he accepted defeat and clenched his fingers, forming a fist. His now stern gaze was directed down at you as he pronounced every word with authority. “You need to promise me that the information I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this apartment. Under any circumstances.”
As if in a hypnosis, you muttered a small ‘yes’ accompanied with a nod of your head, gesturing to him to sit down on the kitchen stool as you took a seat, too.
Leon didn’t leave out any details while going over the events of the past seven years of his life. From discovering that Umbrella was the cause of his parents’ deaths, to signing up for the police academy in order to dig into their fucked-up experiments, to lastly being forced to join the government after surviving that hellish night in September of 1998 fighting zombies and other equally horrendous creatures.
As he revisited the memories of the traumatic night in Raccoon, his hands shook slightly. Without even thinking about it, you interlaced your fingers with his. It came to you so instinctively that neither of you noticed until he was done talking. Even then, he made no move to shrug out of your hold, and neither did you let go of his hand. You clasped it like it was second nature, the weight of his palm and the warmth of his calloused fingers feeling right in your hand.
All the while, you sat in front of him quietly, processing each ounce of information with a heavy heart. Nothing could have prepared you for the cruelty with which his innocence was stripped away from him. In your head, you kept repeating to yourself that he didn't deserve to fight alone, that you should’ve been there for him, that you should’ve tried to find him much sooner. Ultimately, you blamed yourself for everything. Guilt occupied every corner of your being like a lethal infection, ready to open the gates of death and shove you into a pit of no return with no care.
“I couldn’t reach out to you and risk getting you involved in this crap,” he sighed after he was done explaining, his thumb absentmindedly caressing your soft skin.
“Did you know where I was?” you asked.
He nodded after a beat, still tracing patterns with his feather-like touch. “Yeah, I…looked you up in the system when I was still at the police academy. Found out that you moved here.”
With what little money you had saved, you had moved to the big city all those years ago in hopes of escaping the tragic past and rewriting your future with a brand new perspective in a much different place. University had granted you with no social life because you had struggled to fit in. It was more like you hadn’t known how to, not after the fresh scars left on your mind. But you had reminded yourself that you were doing this for your parents and to find an answer to all your questions. The program, a double major in Biochemistry and Biotechnology, had gone by in a blink, thankfully. After your Bachelor’s, you had even managed to land a decent-paying job at a research facility.
Not everything had turned out to be as you imagined. A fresh start was what you had pursued but never quite reached. Not with your nightmares standing in the way, following you around like an unrelenting shadow and unwilling to let you see a day of peace.
“Ah, I see. So that’s when the stalking began,” you dryly joked and nudged his leg with your foot, which earned you a tiny curl of his mouth. Truthfully, your remark served to distract yourself from the onslaught of negative emotions flooding your head, all related to that scarring night at your house.
You gulped, trying to keep the tears at bay after just thinking about it; enough were shed tonight, and you wouldn’t label yourself as a crybaby. Most importantly, you hated how exhausted and weak crying made you. For a second, you wondered how Leon dealt with his trauma. Did he also have nightmares?
“My parents…they were also infected by the virus,” you revealed coarsely, the lump in your throat rendering it much more difficult to speak. Rather than a lump, it was like a stranger’s hand was wrapped around your neck, preventing you from speaking.
Leon’s fingers halted in their movements. The air around you was still and chilly, like everything had been paused and the world was in suspense. Then, he pulled you in for a hug, one that came close to healing the wound that had been open since 1995. Close, but not quite.
“Y/N, I – I’m so sorry,” he cupped the back of your head. “Fuck, I should’ve figured as much.”
The simple truth was that nothing could ever fill the hole left behind by the absence of your parents. You loved them so much. Unconditionally. And it ached, not having them around anymore.
The two of you stayed like that for an unknown interval. You, enclosed in his strong embrace, head resting on his broad shoulder. Him, feeling and smelling like home. It was impossible not to feel safe in his arms. They provided you with a magical sort of cradle, a blanket you could wrap around yourself to escape from reality. If you shut your eyelids and pretended to be in Vaughanville again, it was like nothing had ever changed, like everything was back to normal.
“If anything happened to you… I couldn’t begin to forgive myself,” his voice rumbled in your ear.
You shook your head and leaned back, tired of drowning in feelings that consumed you from the inside, draining the very energy from you. “But I’m still alive. It takes more than zombies and jumping out a window to kill me,” you gave a weak smile.
“No. It’s more than that.”
The rain had picked up, and lightning lit up the night sky in one grand strike, like the grey clouds themselves wanted to punish the earth’s core. The roar of thunder followed right after, loud, mighty, and commanding.
“I exposed you to danger just by talking to you about my job,” he stood up and paced back and forth. “Just by being here, with you. All because I couldn’t hold myself back after laying my eyes on you in that bar.” A second later, he stopped right in front of you and added, “So you’re right. I am selfish in all senses, and maybe even reckless. But only when it comes to you.”
It was your turn to be stupefied and unable to come up with a response. The silence stretched into seconds, and the more time passed, the more of a loss for words you became. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel obliged to say anything in return. Perhaps it was because you already knew about his inherent need to watch over and protect you long before he confessed it.
Or maybe because the feeling was more than mutual.
You studied his wide pupils and the depth of his irises, which pierced your soul so dotingly that it made you want to devote your whole life to him and worship him. It was terrifying, how much power a set of eyes could wield. But you would risk losing yourself in them, because just looking into them felt like pure ecstasy coursing through your veins. And you? You were shamelessly addicted to it, eager to get high off the crystalline pools that were the window of his soul.
Your gaze then wandered over to the bruise blossoming on his cheekbone. It pained you that he got himself hurt because of you – no, for you.
“Y/N,” he called, “I can’t get you out of my mind, I –” his throat bobbed. You watched him, dumbfounded, heart threatening to leave your ribcage, head feeling like it was about to burst open any second now.
“I can’t keep on living without you. It’s pathetic, I know, but I just can’t.”
Lightning highlighted his unfairly gorgeous side profile, and a scar on his cheekbone caught your attention. From deep within, you found yourself wanting to kiss it along with any other scars engraved on his skin.
“Leaving you behind was the worst choice I’ve ever made. It’s the only thing I regret and curse myself for every day .”
His heavy gaze landed on your lips when your tongue darted out to lick them. You were anxious, terribly so, and wanted to know where he was going with this.
You swallowed, and he flicked his stare to your eyes. “I love you too much to let you go. And I hate myself for that.”
It wasn’t fair that his heartfelt confession snatched your breath away and trapped you in a daze all at once. It wasn’t fair that he gained complete control over you with just his presence and words. It made you nervous and giddy, just like how he made you feel when you used to have a crush on him. As a matter of fact, it seemed as though your old feelings for him had reawakened the instant you saw him. This time around, it was more than a silly crush on your best friend, the guy you felt most comfortable in your skin with. Now, he had returned to you not as the joyful boy you once knew, but as a scarred man, carrying a bucket filled with years of trauma.
Whether the Leon in front of you was the one from your memories or not, you would embrace him with open arms, because the chemistry between you transcended time and space itself; it was tightly knitted in the fabric of existence. Unless a higher entity intervened and disintegrated this unbreakable bond, you two would have continued to remain twin flames; inextinguishable and bound to find each other in this lifetime and beyond.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
Time had taught you that more often than not, taking action without precaution is wiser than stalling and waiting for the right moment. Moreover, you didn’t have the patience to tiptoe, which explained why you cupped his face with both hands and planted your lips on his in one swift move. All hesitation was thrown out of the window and replaced with a single unfaltering feeling; love. It echoed in your head like a saccharine reminder – that your heart belonged to Leon just as much as his own belonged to you. That, after all the time you spent apart, the flames burning inside of you never once flickered with doubt.
His reaction time was faster than you expected, because he immediately reciprocated by pressing his pillowy lips against yours so ardently that you were almost startled. To no one's surprise, the kiss quickly intensified as he firmly grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, eliminating any and all possible space between your bodies.
His lips were nothing less than addictive, and you felt your body burn up like you had a fever. It wasn’t unreasonable to say that he poured all of his feelings for you into the kiss. You could taste the passion, devotion, and need he felt for you altogether, delivered to you in a love letter full of unspoken words. Not that any were required to express how desperately you longed for one other.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and he took the hint, promptly lifting you up. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you pulled away and drank in some much-needed air. “Bedroom,” you muttered breathlessly. “First door to the right.”
He captured your lips again and headed to your room, nudging it open with his leg. Treating you like you were a treasure he had discovered himself, he lowered you on the bed with utmost care, his hand on the back of your head until it touched the pillow.
Even in the heat of the moment, when you were drinking him in and he was offering himself to you, he focused on you and your safety. The understanding alone was enough to suffocate you. However, when guilt blocked your airway like a stubborn stone this time around, Leon’s assertive kisses were the best remedy possible. They sent it into the void and allowed you to breathe freely once again. At that moment, you wondered how it was possible for him to be both the cure and cause to your every problem.
His knee in the middle of your thighs was maddening. It briefly touched your aching core and set millions of nerves on fire, making you feel like it was the first time you were being intimate with someone. “Leon,” you panted, “let me breathe.” It was an excuse to put some distance between you, because everything about him was overwhelming you to the point where you couldn’t think , let alone function.
“How can I,” he kissed the corner of your mouth, “when I have you in my arms like this, looking so divine?” His eyes brazenly roamed your figure as he stood on his knees and moved his leg so that he was properly caging you in.
Leaning down, he purred, “You’re ruining me.” It was covered in honey yet worked as a deadly toxin on your body, submerging you in absolute arousal.
He stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers, a caress so petrifying that you couldn’t move a single muscle, his imploring gaze stripping you bare. “I’m a mess. You turned me into a mess,” he emphasized.
You couldn’t tell which was louder; your ragged breathing or the raging thunder outside. Was your heartbeat always this erratic? Or was it because of the influence of the man on top of you, admiring you so lovingly that you forgot to breathe?
Not a sliver of hesitation was present in you when you tilted your head up to kiss him senselessly, savoring the softness of his lips. He put his right forearm beside your head while his left hand leisurely trekked from your jawline all the way to your hip and rested there.
Neither of you could get enough of the languid kisses you exchanged. You lost yourself in his lingering touches, luscious lips, and muscular body covering you like a warm blanket.
You took your time exploring his well-defined body, committing to memory the way his muscles contracted as his mouth left wet kisses on your collarbone, each one reaching the depths of your soul. It was too surreal; you, making out with your childhood best friend and first love after thinking you’d never get to see him again.
First love…
The realization that you were in love with Leon didn’t turn your world around. It didn’t surprise or overwhelm you. Unbeknownst to you, your feelings for him had always been there, but they were neglected for years. Despite that, the irrevocable love you felt for him was indestructible because of how pure it was. Founded on innocence and a bond destined to last, it was your pillar of hope. It kept you going, gave you strength, and didn’t let you crumble.
It was everything you wanted and more.
“I love you, too,” you croaked, and you felt those invisible shackles break when you spoke those words out loud. You were finally free from your own ignorance after being trapped for so long. His hand on your hip tightened, his gaze switching between your eyes like he couldn’t believe what you were saying was real and not a fragment of his imagination. “Don’t you dare leave me again.”
The initial shock of your reciprocation wore off rapidly from his features, and in its place came adoration and worship. “I won’t,” he promised, diving to kiss you chastely. “I swear I won’t.”
You knew you could count on him to keep his promise. It wasn’t his words that convinced you, but his actions. The way he held you, touched you, and kissed you made you certain of it.
His body radiated heat as he moved his lips against yours vehemently. You carded your fingers through his hair, rubbing the incredibly soft strands between your fingers. “Please, let me make up for the time we lost,” he pleaded, a melody so sickeningly sweet that your stomach somersaulted.
He waited for your answer patiently, giving you all the time you needed to decide if you wanted this, wanted him , without any doubts or regrets.
You didn’t need to think twice before voicing your most profound desire that had been sitting in the back of your heart, collecting dust. “I want you.”
With his help, you undressed yourself, thoughtlessly throwing your clothes on the floor. He unhooked your bra and slid down your underwear, showering you with kisses on your chest and stomach. He mumbled compliments under his breath, in awe of your exposed body. “So damn beautiful,” he pecked your nose when he moved up, his honesty making you giggle.
He stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him only in his boxers. Returning the gesture, you discarded them and drank in the sight of his fully nude body for a few seconds, hypnotized by his absurdly sculpted build. Meanwhile, his eyes didn’t abandon yours for even a moment, watching your every reaction like you were the most endearing person in the world.
When your stare intercepted his intense one, he sunk his knee into the mattress and climbed back in, approaching you as you sat before him, bare in all the senses. You locked your mouth with his swollen lips, a souvenir from your previous makeout session, and pulled him down with you.
Slender fingers danced on the apex of your thighs and you whined. They were close to where you wanted them to be, but not quite there. You grinded against him, indicating where you wanted him. Without wasting further time, his fingers invaded your entrance, making you sigh in relief.
His face was less than an inch away from yours as he worked the long digits in and out, paying attention to the spots and angles that relieved you the most. The drag of his middle and ring finger against your walls was godly, incomparable to anything else. What turned you on the most, however, were his fierce eyes watching you with intent.
When you tried looking to the side, he objected. “No, eyes on me, baby.” He hooked your leg on his shoulder for better access and added, “I want to see your pretty face.”
Your face was on fire. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but you suddenly felt shy from the way everything he did to you aroused you so damn easily and the undivided attention he was showering you with. Maybe the reason you weren’t your typical, confident self was because for the first time, the man you loved was the one pleasuring you. That was why it felt so significant, so distinctly intimate .
You weren’t any better off than him when it came to itching for your lover. Although it didn’t seem like it, you were touch-starved, but only for Leon. Only the brush of his rough fingertips against your skin satiated your irrepressible hunger. But the more of him you had, the more you wanted, as if you were stranded in a desert and he was the only source of water nearby. You kept drinking and drinking, but the uncontrollable thirst didn’t show signs of dwindling.
In little time, he learned how to push you over the edge of coherence. It was like he had long been acquainted with your body as he thrusted his fingers inside, reaching spongy crevices that made you wantonly moan his name and screw your eyes shut. His kisses on your jaw and neck only elevated the intensity of your imminent climax, and you dug your nails into his firm bicep as he guided you through it.
His thumb rubbed your clit in circular motions, and you knew you were done for when the tip of his middle finger brushed the spot that made you see stars. “I’m –” You couldn’t even talk as you were transported to above the clouds. He didn’t pause once, still sheathing those thick digits in and out, coating them in your liquid. You grabbed the closest thing to you, which was his forearm, and released a string of moans.
Sweat glistened on your skin as you came down from your vigorous orgasm, recovering your breath for a moment. His length poked your stomach, a weight that felt so right against you. He was made for you just as much as you were made for him.
He shifted, his head now between your thighs, breath fanning your drenched mound. You weren’t exaggerating by saying that his stare was more than eager, like devouring you whole was his last meal before death row. If your legs weren’t already shaking, they would have certainly started to quiver under his ravenous gaze.
Before he could dive in, however, you stopped him by his arm. “I can’t wait. Please, I need you.”
As much as you were looking forward to locking his head between your legs and pulling on his hair as he mercilessly flicked his tongue into you, you also couldn’t wait to have him inside you, every inch of him filling you to the brim. Making him a part of you in every sense of the word.
You were positive that you must have looked gone; hair sprawled around you like a halo, a blush dusting your cheeks, and breaths still coming out shallow. “I can’t say no to you,” he murmured, unable to glue his eyes off of you. “Alright, but let me grab a condom first.”
You grabbed his wrist before he could get up. “Ditch it.”
He just blinked at you a few times, searching for any traces of hesitation or take-backs on your face before asking “Y/N, are you sure?”
“I am” was your answer as you kissed him on the cheek sweetly. You didn’t want any more barriers standing between you. You needed to indulge yourself, feel every part of him without restraints.
When he made sure you were confident in your decision, he gently put your leg back on the bed and parted your thighs with his hands, your dripping cunt now in full display to him. He aligned himself with your hole and wet his dick in your juices before slowly sinking into your inviting essence.
The stretch didn’t hurt. If anything, you savored every second of it and lost yourself in the delicious burn. You clung to his broad shoulders while he was pushing in at a measured pace, struggling to fit inside all at once. “Shit,” he cursed, his face contorted in pleasure. “You’re taking me so good, just like that.”
Once your bodies became one, you let out a breathy moan and threw your head back. Just like you had guessed, he fit perfectly, filling you in all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He didn’t move instantly, taking advantage of your exposed neck and planting a few sloppy kisses on your pulse point. A shiver ran down your spine from exhilaration.
The head of his cock twitched like he could detect your emotions, and your head spun. “Tell me when to move,” he whispered.
“Now,” you gave him the green light after mentally preparing yourself.
The tempo he chose was anything but rough. It fit the mood; unhurried yet ardent thrusts that you welcomed with delight. It was maddening how fast it took him to unravel you and have you clamping your legs around his pelvis, silently urging him to go deeper. He obeyed, pulling you closer by your waist and adjusting the angle at which he was driving into you.
Sex with Leon was unlike anything you had experienced. Each snap of his hips against yours was impossibly romantic and passionate, as though he were trying to convey his feelings in every possible way he could think of.
Your nails left angry, scarlet scratches on skin, a unique souvenir for him. You thought of it more as a statement, in reality – that he had always been yours the same way you had been his. “You’re – you feel so amazing, fuck,” he leaned back and settled his hands, still covered in your wetness, behind your knees, parting your legs even further. “So gorgeous, just for me.”
There was no space left between you, just your sweaty bodies meeting again and again, the sound of skin and creaking of the bed bouncing off the walls. You didn’t want the moment to end, afraid that this was all just a cruel dream because it was too good to be true. You wanted to bury yourself within him and keep him with you forever, consequences be damned.
“Just for you,” you repeated, and accidentally made him lose control.
A possessive shadow appeared on his face, one you had never seen on him. “Say that again.”
Your body reacted before your mind caught up, and you clenched around him almost on instinct. If you had thought it was impossible to get more turned on, you were painfully mistaken.
“Just –” you gasped when he hit that sweet spot, making you bite down on your lip, “– for you, Leon.”
You could feel a second peak quickly approaching as he upped the pace, influenced by your words. He was relentless, his sole goal to tip you over and make you lose your senses. You writhed in the damp sheets, overstimulated and on fire.
“That’s right, baby,” he spoke over the squelching noises. “You’re mine, mine to please and love.” His fingertips dimpled the softness of your thigh, gentle yet bruising. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That will never change.”
His words were single-handedly pulling you apart and rewiring your brain, and you couldn’t stop yourself from absorbing them like sunlight on your skin. With your mouth hanging open and your eyes tightly shut, the only way to warn him about your climax was by marking his flesh with your fingers. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the marks took weeks to fade away.
He groaned at the action, somehow getting harder, but he didn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezing me in,” he pressed down on your lower stomach with his hand, and you mewled. “Come for me, beautiful.”
You couldn’t hold back anymore, not when his tip was kissing parts of you that made you see white and his touches, hot like wildfire, burned a tunnel into your very core. Your abdomen contracted and your hole spasmed. A series of fireworks erupted in your being as you chanted his name like a prayer, followed by a gush of white fluid leaking out of you, running down his length that was pistoning in and out of you.
As you rode out your overpowering climax, his thrusts became weaker and he gripped you more firmly. “Where –” he hissed when you canted up your hips, “do you want it?”
Your legs quaked and you felt like all your energy was stripped away from you. “Inside,” you answered confidently. “I want it inside.”
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re going to be the death of me.” Pressing you down in a mating position, he hammered into you with a few powerful snaps and soon, his essence filled you to the hilt. Your foreheads touched each other, breaths mingled together, and hearts beat in unison as you both came down from your highs. He was gazing at you like you were his whole world, like he would’ve done anything to erase the bitter memories that stained your mind. It was dizzying and intoxicating at the same time, an otherworldly experience that couldn’t be found anywhere else on the planet.
When he captured your lips, the kiss invigorated your soul and mended the cracks left in it all those years ago. With him, you felt whole, as though you were never scarred in the first place and the night that traumatized you was just a distant nightmare that would eventually disappear with the course of time.
If you hadn’t already been convinced of it, you were now; the bond you shared with Leon was predestined, one that deities themselves wrote in the stars before either of you met each other. It was inscribed in the galaxies up above you, never to be forgotten.
He went to lay down beside you, but recognition flashed in his eyes as they landed on a familiar object sitting on your nightstand. “Is that…?” You didn’t even need to turn your head to the side to guess what he was looking at: the charm bracelet that accompanied you on sleepless nights, the very item that was supposed to – and at last did – guarantee his return.
You smiled and nodded, extending your arm to grab it. As you sat upright in the bed to put it on for him, you thought aloud, “It’s been waiting for you, you know.” I’ve been waiting for you . “I think it’s time it went back to its original owner.”
He returned your smile and admired the accessory with a glint of nostalgia. “I remember refusing to take it off in the shower or even during matches. It was my portable good luck charm.”
You snorted. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”
“Everything you give me means so much to me.” His arms snaked around you and positioned you on his lap, resting his head on your shoulder. You hugged his torso, exhaling at the sound of his now steady heartbeat. “I mean it.”
In his arms, time seemed to come to a halt. It was the place where you felt the safest, where your worries appeared miniscule. “Leon?” He hummed in response. “Was it hard for you? Not being able to reach out, I mean.”
He reflected on his answer. “It was hell. In between missions, I’d come here just to feel closure. I did that for years, until one day…it wasn’t enough.” He breathed out, frustrated. “I was overcome with the need to see you, and when I finally tracked you down in that bar, I felt shattered. You were talking with that guy with a smile on your lips.” His hold around your shoulders tightened by a fraction. “I was happy that you looked happy, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t pissed that you’d moved on.”
You blinked, then erupted into laughter. “You thought I’d moved on.”
He was speechless, probably confused at what you found funny. “Leon, I never moved on,” you began to explain after your mini fit of laughter. “Not even for a single moment. Christ, I went as far as hiring a private investigator once I was financially stable because I was so desperate to find you.”
Incredulity was written all over his face when you glanced up. “You what?”
“Yes, you dummy,” you lightly slapped his chest, “so get that thought out of your head right now. You’re the only one who’s right for me. Hunter was just a reminder of that.” In a more timid voice, you said, “I kept thinking about you when I was with him. I thought there was something wrong with me and shamed myself for it. Turns out I should’ve listened to my feelings from the start.”
The storm had stopped at long last, and a sedative quietude blanketed the night sky. His heartbeat was all you heard in the stillness of the room, the rise and fall of his chest nearly lulling you to sleep.
He rubbed a hand on his face. “Gosh, I feel so stupid. I actually thought…” He shook his head, chuckling at himself. “I’m seriously a big idiot,” he contended as he kissed your head.
You nodded exaggeratedly. “Yes, you are.”
A devilish smile made its way onto his face. “Won’t you let this big idiot apologize to you in a special way?”
You screamed and giggled, flailing your arms playfully as he pushed you down. “Don’t you dare!” But your refutations went unheard as he placed his lips on yours, the taste intoxicating you beyond the point of no return. You threaded your hands in his hair and sighed, blissful and content under his comforting weight.
Losing Leon had felt like losing your other half. His absence tore you apart more than you had ever come to realize. And now that he had returned in one piece, you felt like you could breathe, function, and live. It often worried you how much authority a person could possess over you. But that was exactly it; he wasn’t just any person. He was the only one you trusted more than trust itself.
So when you woke up the following morning spooned in his big arms, you remembered that this was reality, that “ I’ll never leave you again ” was a vow, that the unfamiliar happiness making a home in your heart was one you deserved. Just like how his loving arms were your home.