After his lunch break consisting of semisun exposure and flicking his father's lighter he doesn't use to smoke he returns to his desk.
Where the crashing sound of typing, phones screaming in the background, sticky sweet perfumes and the deep gurgle of air passing through the water cooler in the corner awaits him.
It grated his nerves, made his shoulders hunch as he sat on edge to every little sound, the normalcy of it all amplified the volume of simple ambiance thanks to his usual background noise of ringing gunshots, the stench of rotting flesh, and inhuman groans.
He sheds his sherpa lined jacket tossing it on the back of his chair, the office far too hot for his liking. Swivels as he stares at the ceiling, no real paper work for him to complete, he figures someone else takes care of it all for him since he's rarely here.
Finally his eyes fall to where his dusty keyboard sits, sees the small cup used at the water cooler with three white oblong pills, beside it a water bottle and an electrolyte black cherry limeade flavored packet.
Leon isn't an avid drug user but he's more than familiar with the shape of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. He hopes they're extra strength, swallowing them dry but curiosity gets the better of him as he rips the packet open with his teeth. Letting the light red powder pour into the clear liquid watching it turn deep in hue.
The powder clumps together reminding him of blood, how it clots together desperately in an attempt to close a wound, sometimes it's an impossible task.
"Ah," comes your pretty voice behind him, "I shouldn't have given you that flavor."
He tilts his head up, it sounds like you're more or less muttering to yourself as you reach for the bottle of liquid that's quickly turning a deep red.
Leon finds his hand wrapped around your wrist a second time today. His thumb absent-mindedly caresses the small tattoo on your wrist as if to soothe. Your brows furrow, looking down at him and he's seeing a new emotion from his normally grumpy and stubborn coworker for the first time.
A moment stretches between the two of you, slowly the gears in Leon's head turn, were you worried about him? Sensitive over something?
His eyes go back to the drink, the obvious offender here.
"Oh." It hits him, he doesn't dissect it aloud, "M okay."
"But it looks like blood." Blunt yet a pout to your voice.
"I'm curious about the flavor." Giving you an easy smile, quirking one of his brows.
"Ew, Leon." No disgust like before, if anything a giggle hangs in the air. Leon likes the sound of it, likes how it sits in his chest and spreads an easy warmth through his limbs.
"What? Not into vampires?" Licking his sharp canines, now he sees a roll of your eyes, shoving his shoulder before you slowly remove your wrist from his hand.
"Shut up, Leon." Moving back to your little desk to continue clacking away with your sharp claws, stopping only for a moment, "But if you don't, I've got other flavors."
He watches you flip your hair over your shoulder, back to your firm emails as he looks you over for a moment.
"Okay sweetheart, I'll let ya know if your blood is sweet enough."
