𝒍𝒆𝒐𝒏

You pout, wanting to beg for five more minutes (like you hadn’t before), bones aching for the pamper the cloudlike bed provides, but Leon’s already leaving you, arms extending up to the ceiling as he stretches. The sliver of afternoon light peeking through the curtains basks his toned body in all kinds of flattering light, muscles expanding and contracting. 

Leon turns to look at you, lips plump with love as the duvet drapes your body like some fine ballroom gown. He swears his heart beats out of his chest. There really is no one as beautiful as you. 

“Race you to the kitchen?” A teasing eyebrow is raised and even though Leon sets himself in motion to sprint, you don’t budge. Not even an inch. 

He deflates, eyes rolling as he pads over to your side of the bed.

“Don’t wanna,” you mumble as you attempt to bury yourself into the bed, cocooning yourself with the dark shadow grey duvet. “Too lazy.”

Leon sighs. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride?”

Your attention is grabbed. You remove the duvet from your face, sly smirk positioning itself amongst your features.

“I’m listening.”

You cupping behind your ear is what does it for Leon. Dramatic as always.

A huff of amusement sounds from him. Considering the extent as to which the man spoils you rotten, you should be babbling for him to recant his offer, carrying yourself to the kitchen before you two move in a synchronised dance practised all the years you’ve been together as you make food. But Leon’s already perched up on your side of the bed, back towards you with his hands behind him.

“Of course you are,” he beckons for you with the flutter of his fingers, an easy smile sent your way over his shoulder. “Now, hop on before your stomach eats itself.”

You follow his lead, as you always do. Hooking your legs around his waist and circling your arms loosely around his neck. You don’t forget to show your appreciation, peppering his nape with kisses that have laughter pouring out of Leon like honey. Once you’re in the kitchen of your shared apartment, Leon sets you down on the cold countertop with the squeeze of your thighs and opens the fridge.

“Shit,” you crane your neck to look into the fridge too. Much like your stomach, it’s pretty empty. “Need to head to the store if we want something edible for dinner.”

“Is there anything for now at least?” You really can’t be arsed to wait to go get some groceries, make a meal and then eat.

“Kind of, but we definitely need to go shopping after this.” Leon states as he brings out the remnants of the fridge. You go to grab the spices from the cabinet and the last of the eggs and stare at your ingredients.

“Let’s get this party started.” 

You groan. 

Leon can be so lame sometimes. Yet so lovable all the time.

-

Once the appetising brunch made with nothing but the utmost of love settles in your stomach, you reluctantly begin to egg yourself on to completing the rest of your weekend’s work and preparing for your Monday back at the office. Blue light glasses perched against the bridge of your nose, you gnaw at the end of your pencil, legs crossed in the way Leon always jokes in the shape of a pretzel. You’ve left quite a bit of work for yourself to complete tonight, so you don’t see yourself leaving your workspace anytime soon.

Leon understands, he always does. Kisses your forehead delicately and murmurs something about getting some stuff from the grocery store for dinner. He’s out the door before you can get a word in. You now understand why he left in such a hurry, understand why he took longer than usual. 

Before you, your longtime partner, with long dirt blond locks that framed the angles of his cheekbones, sports a new hairstyle. Or should you say old. You haven’t seen him like this since you first started dating - bashful young adults about to embark on their journey into adulthood, sweaty palms linked and heart beats in sync. Ever since the ruinous events of Raccoon City, you noticed that with all the scars and burden’s Leon carries with him that he never once looked the same. Face gaunt and eyes sunken in. It took a long while before life returned to his eyes. And though you were beyond ecstatic that Leon was seemingly getting better, you couldn’t help but take note of his hair. He never cut it like before. Never. 

Opting for longer strands of his gorgeous hair, Leon always gave a chuckle and said, “thought you always wanted me to grow my hair out,” whenever you asked. It was sweet of him to do so, sweet of him to say, but you and him both knew that wasn’t entirely true. However, you never pried - that was not in your nature, and certainly not evident in all the years you’ve been with Leon. So, you didn’t ask again and when the time came that Leon’s huffs of annoyance filled your ears as he struggled with keeping the strands out of his face, he departed with a smile and cut a mere two inches off his almost shoulder length hair. It remained that way for the next six years.

Now, having grown into his rugged features, the short hair length from all those years ago conjures something else in you. It feels nostalgic but new -  feels right and looks that way too. But more than anything, you feel proud. Proud of Leon and all that he is, all that he’s become despite everything.

“Barber went a bit crazy, didn’t he?”

Oh, bless him. He’s so awkward, so endearing it hurts. Pools of blue avert your gaze, the floor apparently more interesting, fingertip scratching the surface of his cheeks that burn with ruby red. This is a big moment for Leon, you think, but you know better than anyone that he doesn’t want it to be. Just wants your reassurance and all the calmness that comes with it.

Your hands against Leon’s cheeks shift his eyes to yours, getting an eyeful of the absolute fondness that swims in your eyes. He simply drowns in it - knows the glimmer in your eyes signifies the pride that swells in your chest, the tenderness of your touch loving and reassuring. He did well, has always done so well. Deserves his flowers and the whole damn garden. 

“Maybe,” you giggle and your joy is contagious. Smiling with you, Leon feels you twiddle the strands of his hair between your fingers. Slow and gentle - like your love is. It’s so sweet. “But, I’m not mad at it. Not one bit.”

In all the time you’ve been with Leon, there hasn’t been any more than a handful of times you can recall where he willingly leaned on you for support. Not because you lacked the capacity to do so, but because the solitary nature and secrecy of his job kept him from doing so. Facing his nightmares as much as he could by himself, meeting his new nightmares on missions by himself - everything by himself. But in moments like these, where the significance of his trauma can be lost in translation, he surrenders himself to you. Altogether. Unabashed and brave. He couldn’t be more dashing than he is right now, all versions of himself served to you on a silver platter.