Look on my posts, ye Mighty, and despair!

Apologies for the slow updating, I've been on the struggle bus with this haha!

I always try to make a floorplan of locations that will feature regularly in my fics, just for directional purposes, so just in case anyone might find it helpful, I thought I’d add a link. You can check it out here!

Hope you all enjoy the chapter. 💜

Chapter Six: Sanctuary

Struggling to hold onto his resolve, Leon trailed Jules through the dark, wet streets. Shoulders up around his ears trying to keep the fat, cold, raindrops from running down the back of his neck.

She moved quickly just ahead of him, hugging herself as she went. Hands rubbing the tops of her arms and shoulders, trying to keep the icy rain from lingering too long on her bare arms.

He kept a few steps behind, almost afraid to walk at her side as knew damn well he shouldn’t have been following her at all. He rationalised it by telling himself he just wanted to make sure she got home safely, and maybe wait out the rain a bit, but the truth was he couldn’t stand to think that their time together might be coming to an end.

It seemed impossible for him to prevent himself growing ever more curious about her by the minute - replaying the night in his head as he followed her. The fight they’d had in the bar, how well she’d handled herself. How good she’d looked taking down the men who threatened her. The wild look in her eyes when he’d caught her wrist, that appealed to him in ways he knew it shouldn’t have.

He’d always been attracted to strong, capable, women and knowing she ticked that box -and a million others he wasn’t aware he kept a list of- got him eager to keep chasing the hope that she’d unknowingly offered him.

It was dangerous to allow himself to follow desires that were rooted in places he tried so hard to control, but he couldn’t deny himself the chance to see where she lived, at least. If only to know if it matched the image he’d already unconsciously built in his mind. Expecting it to be as warm and unique as he found her to be.

As the rain beat down faster and heavier, they picked up a jogging pace, dashing across a road and turning the corner into a brightly lit backstreet industrial area. Large warehouses loomed over them from both sides of the road, but not a piece of the sidewalk or road was in shadow from the security lighting outside each building.

Jules led the way to where a building that looked like a flat-roofed, two-story, old style fire-house was located, nestled between more industrial looking buildings, one of which appeared somewhat abandoned with a broken window and faded signage.

Hanging outside the fire-house building there was a weathered sign a foot or two above two red apparatus bay doors, that advertised ‘Rusty’s Auto Shop’ was located there. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that the ground floor of the former municipal building had been converted out into a garage, and he felt it was safe to assume the second story contained an apartment.

Especially since she appeared to be leading him that way, making him think back to what she’d said to the bartender. His analytical mind said maybe she worked in the back office of the auto-shop, and lived upstairs as part of the employment package.

Sure enough, within a few more feet he was proven right.

She wasted no time in leading him down the dark side of the old fire-house, that stretched beyond the neighbouring warehouse building, to reveal a parking lot at the back. Moving past a customer side entrance into the auto-shop, then by a black iron fire escape -which ran up to the story above and then onto the roof- then down to where a single door, with a video doorbell waited.

Coming to a stop just behind her, he couldn’t help but wonder if she chose to live in such a quiet but well lit area purposefully for her safety, or if it was just a useful coincidence. He guessed the latter was more likely, but it didn’t soothe the intrinsic part of him that was compelled to protect people. Being aware of the fact she could be in danger -or on the run- troubled him in ways he didn’t feel equipped to consider at that moment.

Standing close at her back, he could almost see her shivering as she slid a set of two keys from the pocket of her jeans and unlocked the door quickly. Stepping in straight away and holding it open for him from inside, welcoming him into a small lobby that offered an L-shaped staircase to the left, and two other doors to the right, that he assumed led into the auto shop or storage spaces.

Relieved to finally be out of the rain, he let the door click closed behind him and didn’t allow himself to hesitate in following her up the stairs. Doing his best not to look at her ass swaying -directly in his eyeline- as she mounted the steps.

The strip of her bare back -that showed from where her tank-top didn’t meet her low-rise jeans- revealed the Venus dimples in the small of her back, which sent a flutter of lust skittering through him.

Mentally, he swatted it away. Trying to dig in and ignore the reckless desires that kept threatening to turn up his impulsivity, and make him act in a way he feared he’d probably regret. 

He cried out internally for the self control he relied so heavily on in the field to just hold out a little longer. Insisting it give him the strength to be near her, without relenting to his almost overwhelming urge to give up the fight, and let the appetency within him take over.

At the top of the landing, there was a large window which led out to the first level of the fire escape and allowed vivid white light from the neighbouring building’s security features to enter. Illuminating two doors, one directly ahead and one to the left.

Jules unlocked the left one and quickly stepped inside. Flicking a switch that sent out a tide of soft yellow light, cascading out into the landing; silently encouraging Leon to move closer and venture inside.

He headed up the last few steps, almost walking directly into the apartment, but he hesitated in the doorway. Looking in curiously to watch as she kicked off her boots and took out her phone. Tapping something into it and reading the screen briefly, before putting it on the table beside the door -next to where a full face motorcycle helmet sat- and moving off further into the apartment.

Jules sensed he hadn’t followed her in, and the tiniest part of her was a little relieved. She’d been wrestling with herself since her invitation carelessly fell from her mouth back at the alleyway.

Telling herself how stupid she was inviting him to follow her home, and how thin of a line she was treading, but before she could successfully beat any sense into herself, she looked over her shoulder at him and cast out a second invitation.

“You a vampire or somethin'?”

Leon frowned, not following her thread and still lingering on the doorstep, with uncertainty.

“...Come in!” she insisted and a look of recollection found his handsome face. Then with some nerves, but no more hesitation, he stepped forward.

He couldn’t reject the invite, but he knew he was making a mistake to go inside.

In the bar, with people all around there seemed to be an easy way to resist temptation simply by being in the presence of strangers. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to be truly alone with her, especially after what had transpired in the alleyway just minutes earlier, and not when he was already feeling such an affinity towards her.

He watched as she disappeared around the corner to a short hall, and took the moment alone to catch up to himself.

If he had any sense of self preservation when it came to his personal life, he would have said his goodbyes and left there and then, but before he could stop himself - he was taking more steps inside. Drifting further into her world, and turning to close the door firmly behind him.

He couldn’t believe what he was doing – following her home like a lost puppy.

They’d only known each other for a matter of hours, and he’d worked hard to overcome his former tendencies to follow women he’d just met home, on the back of an emotionally draining mission, but there he was again.

Worst still, if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t even sure if she’d told him her real name.

Reflecting on their initial interactions he felt like she was avoidant about it. Then learning of her history and potential for being ‘on the lam’ and considered M.I.A - it was likely that ‘Jules’ was an alias.

He hoped maybe that she’d reveal it to him at some point, as she too didn’t appear to want their contact to end, and had seemingly already grown to trust him enough to share some of her story with him.

Maybe he could get the truth out of her if he ‘raised his friendship level’ like she’d teased in the booth. Quite how he was going to do that, he didn’t know, but he wanted to try to find a way.

Feeling uncharacteristically nervous, he detached from his rumination and took a couple of steps further into her apartment. Turning his attention to surveying the space he found himself in. Noticing straight away that the place was homey in atmosphere but industrial in appearance.

It was a semi-open plan apartment, a full height wall splitting the space in half, allowing him to see across to the living space from foyer area and simple kitchen located besides it.

Three large arched, warehouse windows lined the front the living room wall, letting in just enough light from the street outside into the space for his curious nature to begin taking stock of the rest of her apartment. 

Glancing around the kitchen area first, he noted there was nothing out of the ordinary. General kitchen equipment and clutter. Some cookbooks and a couple of jars of protein powder on the counter. A shaker cup, a bowl and plates along with cutlery on the draining rack. Some mail on the kitchen table, a couple of notes and an event flyer -with what looked like a paper ticket- pinned to a cork-board above it.

Focusing his attention back through into the living area he could see it was a large open and airy space. A wall of shelving at the farthest left side of the room, with a few books and candles scattered around on one side, and in the middle a modern looking sound system that paired with the speakers pinned high up on the coving above the shelves.

Just in front of the shelving wall, a heavy punchbag hung from the ceiling, and near to that - some free weights and a yoga mat. He thought it was safe to assume they were both for stress relief just as much as keeping fit.

Next his eyes caught on a glinting silver pole that was braced between the floor and the ceiling, a feature that was a little more questionable.

He guessed it was a remnant of the building’s previous purpose as a firehouse, but his mind was already set to wondering if the penchant for dance she’d mentioned ever extended vertically.

At the closest end of the living space to him -evidently put there on purpose to maintain the large floor space between the fitness equipment and seating area- there was an L shaped, beige couch and colourful, plush patchwork armchair beside a tripod floor lamp that, she’d purposely left on before leaving home.

All the pieces of furniture framed a coffee table, which was plonked on top of a colourful rug, and all sat in front of a TV stand with a large flat screen on top of it, and previous generation games console laying flat underneath.

He noted on the coffee table sat a bottle of whiskey with less than a dram left in the bottle, a used glass beside it, a poorly closed pizza box and a laptop. That and the crumbled blanket and cushion stuffed to one end of the couch told him she’d probably fallen asleep there the night before.

Assessing the remainder of the space, he acknowledged that to his right there were three doors  - bedroom, bathroom, and a utility closet, he assumed. Due to the fact the door was open, and Jules was hidden behind it, rummaging around.

He noted the farthest door was open slightly too, although he couldn’t see much inside beyond a pull-up bar wedged between the door jam. His investigatory skills told him she clearly liked to keep things simple, had been in a questionable headspace and drinking heavily recently, and she liked to keep fit. Other than that, it was quite hard to discern much about her lifestyle from the space she inhabited.

What little furniture there was looked worn in, second hand -thrifted- at his best guess. It was all somewhat eclectic in colour and style, that implied she’d picked some items out herself, while other pieces perhaps came with the apartment.

His keen eye for detail noted there was a lack of significant or meaningful personal effects, it seemed like she lived fairly minimalistically, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was through choice, or necessity. If he was right and she was running from more than just bad memories, it made sense that she’d keep very few personal items.

Her comment to him from the alleyway echoed back through his head. Making him fear she was forever poised to make a midnight run, and leave everything behind in a heartbeat too.

He couldn’t stand to consider her living a life like that, or the thought that he might lose their link to circumstances beyond his control, but he was aware of how silly it was to be thinking such a way. They barely knew each other, and she didn’t owe him anything at all - not even a goodbye.

Not wanting to think about all that loomed over her head, or acknowledge that what was growing between them could die on the vine, he found himself unwittingly comparing her home to his own apartment. Unable to deny how much more welcoming her space appeared than his own, even with fewer things.

He’d acquired many more personal items than she seemed to own over the years, but he still liked to keep things simple and clutter free too.

Her décor was lighter, muted paint, exposed brickwork and light wooden floors. Neutrals, with pops of brighter colour, a style choice that reflected in the way she’d been dressed that night too with her grey jeans, purple shirt and crazy socks. While his own apartment was dark woods, with blues, blacks and dark greys - the lightest feature being the white marble countertops in his kitchen.

It wasn’t lost on him that the décor represented them as people too. Her behaviour suggested she was so much lighter and freer than he was, and despite the ghosts in her head and troubles on her back - she still managed to keep the light bright in her heart. While the light in his own had dimmed so dark over the years it barely kept a glow at all sometimes.

He liked that despite the simplicity of her space, it still felt homely and warm. He hadn’t really had the chance or desire to create that kind of feeling in his own space, and he often couldn’t help but feel that it would only ever be just a building to keep his belongings in anyway.

“Here!” Jules’ voice snapped him out of contemplating his domestic situation too deeply, and he turned to her as she approached. He was surprised to see she’d unleashed her dark curls from the ponytail she’d worn, and was towelling off her own hair with one hand, while holding out a second towel to him with the other.

“Thanks”.

He took it gratefully, and patted himself down, drying his hair off first before changing the towel’s fold and dabbing at his wet clothes. To his horror, his nose crinkled as he caught a whiff of himself.

The rainwater had seemingly reactivated the stink left on him from all the blood, sweat, dirt and BOW guts that had embedded into the fabric - and it wasn’t pretty.

At that moment he could have kicked himself for not taking out the spare outfit he kept in the trunk of his Porsche -specifically for post-op hygiene purposes- when he had the chance. Then again, he hadn't exactly been planning on hanging around anyone long enough for it to be an issue. All he could do was hope he wasn’t going to offend her, or stink up the apartment that smelled so fresh and welcoming.

While Leon dried himself, Jules stood at the kitchen counter with the towel comfortingly around her neck. Feeling a strangely feverish sensation coming over her as the remaining chill from outside and her damp clothes began to fight against the fire that threatened to rage inside her.

Running completely on autopilot, she took out two glasses from the cabinet above her and placed them down on the counter.

Trying with everything she had to focus on her actions rather than her complicated thoughts and confused feelings towards the man standing in her apartment. Holding on with all she had to fight back the flood that she feared was going to wash her clean into his arms at any second.

On the walk to her apartment she’d set a mantra in her head. - ‘He has to be married. You don’t need a complication like this. He has to be married. You don’t need a complication like this.’ Saying it to herself over and over again to the beat of her feet, until it felt weird to stop echoing it on reaching her apartment. Where she’d suddenly become acutely aware of just how foolish it had been to invite him in as she had.

Even though she felt certain he could be trusted in terms of her safety, she wasn’t so sure she could trust herself to resist allowing him to pull her into a messy situation.

Their moment in the alleyway had told her that much. If it hadn’t started raining she was sure the outcome of their forced proximity would have been dramatically different.

She could still recall the lust in his eyes, the heavy, all consuming nature of his presence.

It felt so different to how he came across in that moment. Standing there in her home -innocently dabbing up rainwater from his body- and a looking a little unsure of himself. Nervous almost. For that she guessed she should be grateful.

As if she was reading him right, he wanted her as much as she wanted him in that alleyway, and both of them were mere seconds away from acting on it, but she couldn’t entertain the possibility of following through now they were alone inside.

She didn’t need the analytical skills that she had honed through years of working in criminal investigations, to know all that was evolving between them would lead to nothing but problems.

Yet her heart still rebelliously whispered convincing, hope-filled, counter-arguments that she tried to turn a deaf ear to. Getting angry at herself for letting her defences falter for him, when she should have done a better job of distancing herself from the kind of temptation he represented.

She’d learned how to read people through her career, understand what they were thinking without them saying a word, analyse their motivations too, and but understanding herself and the actions she blindly took was a whole different skillset that she hadn’t sharpened quite as well.

He was doing something to her that she hadn’t experienced before. Unravelling her in a new and unique way with his subtle charm, good looks and the energy about him that emanated through to her, and said if anyone in the world was going to understand who she was and what she’d been through – it was him.

Afraid of how the feelings she’d felt in the alley were threatening a resurgence at any second, she made her move to the fridge in the corner of the room. Pulling open the small freezer compartment at the top, and letting the cool air soothe her heated face for a moment or two before she felt the chill too harshly against her damp clothes.

She inhaled deeply to gather herself, before taking a few ice cubes from a tray, elbowing the door closed, and returning to the counter to drop them into the glasses. Turning her attention next to a bottle of fancy brandy on the kitchen counter and cracking it open to free pour out a shot into each glass.

Being aware that adding more alcohol to the mix was likely a mistake, didn't stop her needed something to settle herself. Feeling jittery from the heady cocktail of emotions that were still parading through her body - leftovers from fading adrenaline, unresolved tension and simmering lust.

“Well,” she spoke out, needing to fill the cavernous silence that had formed around them before the weight of it crushed her. “...on the list of bizarre nights I’ve had, this has gotta rank in at least the top ten.” she joked as she returned to Leon’s side, holding out a glass to him.

He chuckled softly, and accepted the drink. “Same here.”

He clinked his glass with hers in a silent toast to their survival before they took sips in tandem. Enjoying the burn of the brandy as his mind screamed at him to walk away, before temptation got the better of him, but he didn’t want to listen. He’d come too far now - he had to see how it played out. Knowing that if he stayed or left, he’d likely regret it either way.

The atmosphere between them relaxed as they stood at the point where the kitchen, living and foyer areas merged. The warmth of the soft light from the sconce by the front door, and the under-cupboard kitchen lighting filled the space as the gentle hum of the fridge-freezer, and tick of the clock on the cooker provided an ambient soundtrack to the moment. Allowing them to reset and let their uncharacteristic sense of nerves settle some.

Both determined to not think too hard on the situation they were in and the directions it could take now they were completely alone. Knowing logic wasn’t likely to come out triumphant, regardless of how much it tried to steer them both clear of temptation.

Jules was not in the habit of inviting strangers into her space at any point in her life, but she couldn’t deny the thought of seeing him walk away that night was too bleak for her to fully see the risks of what she was doing – let alone the potential repercussions.

She couldn’t comprehend in that moment why she trusted him enough already to let him know all she’d revealed to him and let him into her home, but there was just a particular quality about him that felt so comforting and secure. Even among all the risky and foolish urges that were swelling through her.

As she stood besides him sipping her brandy, she reached back to the mantra that had fallen silent in her head again. Reminding herself of the ring he wore, and the fact there was a good chance the so-called ‘friend’ he’d mentioned in hospital was wearing a matching one.

Sure enough her sense of guilt prickled again, feeling a gyre widening in her stomach at the thought of what her desire for him might make her become.

However, she'd already accepted that no matter how the night ended, his company had meant a lot to her. Chatting and laughing with him, and even the fight, had reminded her of who she really was, after isolation and lack of security pushed her personality into a box so she could remain hidden and safe in the world.

She wasn’t quite sure how to thank him for giving her that brief escape, at least not without having to explain too much about her past. She hoped somehow he understood what it meant to be reminded of who she could be in the right company, and that despite the unwelcome -potentially damaging- feelings building between them, the thought of his presence leaving her world at any moment left her colder than the icy rain had.

“You’re welcome to hang out here...” she suggested cautiously. Not wanting him to leave, even if she was afraid of where things could lead should he choose to stay. “...Until the rain stops, I mean...” she added quickly, to clarify what she meant. “...Weather app said it’ll get worse before it gets better.”

Her offer surprised Leon to the point he had no vocal response to offer at first, and he simply nodded a couple of times. Realising that she must have been checking the weather on her phone when she kicked off her boots at the door.

Considering the invitation for a moment, he glanced through the apartment again, to the large living room windows where fat raindrops were still lashing angrily at the squares of glass, making the outside world seem even less appealing.

“That’d be good.” he got out, his voice low, almost sleepy with a sense of comfort from the environment around him. “Thanks.”

Crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t regret making him the offer, Jules gave him a small smile that only served to remind her of the bruise forming on her face.

Wincing, she bought the cold glass in her hand up to the tender patch on her jaw. Closing her eyes and feeling the coolness soothe the welt the bikers ring had left. Hoping the chilled sensation would also chase away the heat inside her that was still defiantly calling out to him.

“You sure you’re okay?” Leon asked, a cold chill nipping at him with just the thought of her hurting in any way. A bubble of barely settled anger suddenly rising up, full of a wish to have got his hands on the man who clipped her.

“Yeah.” she nodded, letting her eyes fall open on him. “It’s nothin’...had way worse than this.” That look of curiosity crossed over his eyes again, showing her he was mere seconds away from asking her awkward questions.

To avoid him digging, she began to mentally scramble for a suggestion of something to say to defuse his intentions and make things feel a little less awkward. Opening her mouth to invite him through to the living room to sit, when she suddenly noticed his forearm.

“Shit, Leon!” she cried out, taking the glass from her face.

The sound of her saying his name again instantly made his skin flush, and swept away the questions that popped up in his head in response to her. His brow setting into a confused but curious furrow, as he watched her quickly step over back to the kitchen counter, where she placed her glass down before turning to face him again.

“You’re bleedin'!” she stated, gesturing to his left forearm. She’d noticed the war wounds he carried earlier in the night when they first started talking, but to see him bleeding hurt her somewhere deep inside. Especially as it appeared that the split skin was a result of the bar fight they’d just had.

The odd sense of fuzziness in his head seemed to be slowing his reactions, and it took him a beat connect the dots. Having completely forgotten about the cuts and bruises he’d acquired in the battle for his life back in Raccoon City.

His reactions slowed further still, as she drew up close enough to him that he could feel the heat of her body against him again. While the sensation of her soft fingertips gently pressing against his skin -assessing the wound on his forearm- spread glowing warmth up through his arm and into his chest.

“It’s nothin’.” he dismissed, his voice a low purr. Hating that his default was to deny any pain or need for care, while the reality was he actually craved touch and attention like she was providing.

“Doesn’t look like it to me.”

“Just another souvenir from Raccoon City” he returned, struggling to hold onto her gaze for the way the concern in her eyes made him feel.

“Let me guess?” She cocked her head at him sassily, waiting a beat until he focused on her properly. “...I should have seen the other guy, right?”

Leon gave a soft, breathy chuckle at her teasing, but he felt a lingering sense of dread beneath his amusement to recall his battle with the missile throwing tyrant. “Well, yeah. He was a big bastard.”

“Oh! Humble brag, huh?” she joked, making him snicker. He liked that she was confident enough to challenge him like that – it was refreshing.

“Maybe...But the fucker was throwing burnt-out cars and missiles at me.”

Jules expression fixed into a shocked stare, studying his face to suss him out. Unsure for a moment if he was teasing her right back, with the casual way he made his claim, or if he was serious and so used to such deadly situations that it didn’t phase him any more. The latter concerned her.

“You’re shittin’ me?”

Leon shook his head softly. “Wish I was.”

Jules’ brow furrowed, trying to build a clear picture of the scenario he’d just put into her head. “He couldn’t have been human?”

“He was at some point.”

Jules sighed heavily, her heart and head feeling unsettled by what he’d been through in the hours before they met - making her forget that she was still holding onto his arm.

Leon however, was acutely aware of it, and just how nice it felt. How pretty her eyes were too, how kissable her full lips looked, and how badly he wanted to pull her close, hold her and breathe her in.

Feeling her skin flush hot at the intensity of his gaze she let her hands fall away and she stepped back. “Lemme get you somethin’.”

“It’s fi-” he tried to argue but it was too late. By the time he’d caught up to himself through the haze of desire and arousal - she’d disappeared into the middle door in the hall. Leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

Trying to blink away the fuzziness in his head, he ran his hand through his damp hair, scratched the back of his neck and inhaled deeply. He wasn’t certain if it was the comfort of her apartment, the adrenaline wearing off, or just something about her that caused it, but he felt a little swept away.

It wasn’t like him to feel anything but grounded in the most challenging of situations, even when alcohol involved, but there and then he felt like he was drifting out to sea. Further away from the buoy of self control he tried desperately to cling to.

He shook his head softly, trying to bring his military-grade focus back online. Covertly rubbing his thumb against the underside of the ring he wore again, using it to ground him and help keep it together. Knowing he needed to maintain a clear head in the given situation and tune out the twisting emotions that seemed so determined to unravel him.

He couldn’t let himself give in, no matter how much he wanted to get lost in all she was - body and soul. It simply wasn’t right or fair to either of them to let himself slip.

In the bathroom Jules panicked.

Scrambling to pick up her discarded clothing that was littered around the tiled floor, quickly hiding it in the laundry basket, before tidying up the counter too. 

She wasn’t expecting company, and she was messy at the best of times. The army discipline and organisation that had been drummed into her -a few years shy of two decades ago- was the first thing to fall apart when she crashed out of service.

It especially didn’t help that she’d spent the last three days fighting to avoid slipping into a familiar depression. Which in itself hadn’t been the best prelude to that evening, but it had at least resulted in her meeting him.

Which in turn had helped her temporarily forget the darkness that had loomed over her for two years. Even if the threat at her back had now met a new rival in the ‘Leon-shaped’ problem, that had the potential to ruin her.

Once she was confident the room looked half-way acceptable, she grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink, and quickly headed back out to Leon. Who she found still standing where she’d left him, still looking oddly lost.

“Sit!” she said, gesturing towards the small kitchen table as she rallied preparations to tend to his wounds.

“Yes ma’am” he returned. Making his move across the kitchen and pulling out a chair -as instructed- while she set up on the kitchen table beside him.

Groaning faintly, he sat down, trying not to wince with feeling the solid rungs of the back digging into a bruise he didn’t realise he had. He didn’t want to consider what state his back would be in, and how he’d likely have to sleep on his front for a few days due to the tenderness there.

Settling into his seat, he sipped his brandy and watched her intently with simmering desire, as she moved across the kitchen to toss the towel from her shoulders onto the counter, before necking the rest of her drink, and taking to removing the rings she wore and washing her hands at the kitchen sink. Drying them on some paper towel then returning to his side again quickly.

His eyes studied her closely, as she put what she needed to the edge of the kitchen table, then stepped around him to settle beside his left leg and crouch down, before reaching up and across him to take some cotton wool balls from the pile she’d made, and a small bottle of antiseptic liquid with it.

She didn’t seem to notice how her body pressed up so firmly against his outer thigh as she reached for the table, but he did. Concerned with knowing the sensation that the light friction stirred was likely to throw him back into the state he’d been in the alley earlier.

He knocked back another sip of iced brandy, and reached again for his self control.

It was stupid to be so reactive to such an innocent touch, but it felt like every part of him was hyper-alert and way too eager to give into her.

Not wanting to risk letting his mind fall back into the lewd images that had chased him through the latter part of the night, he tried to recall the last time he’d had someone patch his wounds up - who wasn’t a trained medic or fellow agent.

He couldn’t bring a time to mind, which only made the fact she cared even more encouraging. Filling him up with a profound sense of warmth and comfort. One that threatened to pull him even deeper into his blossoming feelings for her.

Yet as she drew back across him and settled her butt on her calves, on the floor at his side, he was reminded of a pressing issue.

“Don’t get too close,” he spoke out, instantly realising after the alleyway it was too late for that. She looked up at him - her pretty eyes both worried and curious for a beat. “...I stink.”

She scoffed in relief, dismissing his concerns with a tender smile. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Leon gave a faint, almost nervous, smile in return, as she took her eyes from his again and began her work. Gently assessing the severity of the deep scratches with tender fingertips as she had before. Her touch sending tingles curling up through his arms and around his shoulders, sliding way down his spine and through to his abdomen.

Fuck!

Was he that touch starved that a beautiful woman tending to his wounds was cutting through the walls he’d built so easily, and stirring him inside?

The familiar voice in his head reminded him he was treading a hazardously thin line by allowing such close quarters again, but something shifted inside him. Stepping up and tuning the warnings out. Allowing him to enjoy the compassion and gentle warmth that radiated off her in waves.

His head tilted to the side slightly to watch her work, fixated on her face as she wet the cotton wool with antiseptic and wiped away the streaks of dirt and blood on his forearm carefully, before focusing on cleansing the cut directly. Her full lips parted just a little as she focused on him fully. Her eyes soft and caring, but worried at the same time.

A loving kind of expression that resonated with him deep inside, in a way he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain or understand in that moment. Yet he instinctively sensed it was alluding to the things he’d craved for so long. Tenderness, comfort, contentment – a perfect mix of all three from one source. 

“I’m gonna need to dress this.” she said worriedly, keeping her eyes on her task. Doing her best not to consider how alluring his thick, veiny, and tautly muscled arms were, or how chunky and strong his thighs appeared.

Trying harder still to not notice the way the sensation of his gaze made her skin tingle. Calling back the familiar pulse between her legs that grew more intense every second his longing eyes remained fixated on her.

“Nah, it’ll be-.”

She cut him off, her eyes flicking up to catch his. “Fine?” she parroted what he’d already said in a bid to stop her fussing, but she couldn’t. Even though he was little more than a stranger, a voice in him called to the softest parts of her that had laid dormant for so long.

“Yeah.” he assured, his voice raspy as his throat fought to contain the desire that was speedily filling up his chest - spurred on just by the warmth she radiated into him.

“Alright, tough guy. Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

Leon scoffed faintly, at her relenting but instantly noted how her eyes pulled to his cheek where she noted the scratches amongst the stubble there.

She’d seen them earlier, of course, but close up they looked red and angry. Not bleeding like his arm but clearly needing attention too.

“You have er…” She gestured to her own face, feeling so uncharacteristically coy with the way he was focused on her. His eyes so intense and brimming over with a look of yearning. “Can I?” She raised a clean piece of dampened cotton wool to show her intention.

His throat felt hot, and it wasn’t from the brandy. It was all the effort it was taking him to keep his hands to himself, and suppress all the emotions and urges surging within him.

“Yeah, sure.” he forced out, his voice gruff and tight, knowing there was no way to refuse without making it awkward. 

Reacting entirely on instinct, he turned his head away slightly, as she raised up on her knees a little to reach him. Refusing to acknowledge her lower abdomen brushing against the outside of his thigh, and her breasts grazing his upper arm, as she did so. Closing his mind to the warm shiver the ghosting touch brought to his body.

Praying for strength from the ‘Dutch courage’ she’d downed at the kitchen counter, Jules fought hard to keep her fingers steady. Every part of her tingled frantically with the sensation of his body brushing against hers. The sensation threatening to tip her over the edge into acting reckless.

Setting her focus away from her inner desires, she reached out to softly touch just under his stubbled jaw. Gently supporting his face, as she dabbed carefully at the cuts.

Leon’s eyes fell closed under her tender brush of her fingers, as a contented moan threatened in his throat but he bit it back.

To his surprise, he couldn’t feel the sting which he knew should have come, for the warm glow that was swelling through him. The softness of her long, delicate, fingers against the coarse stubble on his face, set a fleeting thought in his mind that wondered what it would be like to have his stubbly jaw rub against more tender parts of her body.

His head began to swim again with the intoxicating feel of their body heat mingling. The soft rise and fall of her chest in perfect sync with his. Her breath whispering against his cheek and ear, sending with the faint smell of brandy and her perfume to warm him through and firmly set a subtle discomfort in his crotch.

It was all wearing him down like a sandcastle falling to the rising tide.

Feeling her so close against his side -even closer than they’d been in the alley- should have sent more lustful images galloping through his mind, but the tenderness she showed him held those thoughts back - kept him in line. If only because he didn’t want her touch and attention to end, and he couldn’t be certain of how well he might contain the devilish impulses within him that threatened to surface and dominate if he let his mind drift any closer towards lust.

Her fingers were so whisper light but deeply soothing, making him crave her more and more as the seconds ticked past. He could feel his composure slipping with the desire to rub his face against her hand. Nuzzle it like a lonely stray cat might, but somehow he resisted. He was a man who was practiced in not outwardly showing what he was truly feeling inside; a skill which allowed him to find a place of control amid such temptation. Yet a strange sense of melancholy befell on him, as he wondered if he might ever get to feel something so simple yet so pleasurable again

Jules kept her mind straight, focusing on the task at hand rather than how her heart was calling out to him, enamoured by the contented expression on his face. His eyes softly closed, letting the deep set lines in his brow fade away, making him look almost boyish.

She continued to clean his face gently, taking more time than it truly required, not wanting to quit tending to him, since it was so clear he both enjoyed and needed her touch.

She couldn’t believe just how dirty he was now she was so much closer to him and in better lighting. There were three different shades of grime on his face alone, and God only knew what imbedded into the fabric of his shirt and pants.

Still, it didn’t matter - he looked so handsome it pained her. The size of his arms, the strength in his broad chest and shoulders. His stubbled jaw, and the prominent Adam’s Apple that she felt her lips yearning to press against.

Even the way his hair fell against his neck seemed to call to her in a way she tried so hard not to hear. Yet she helplessly envisioned running her fingers through his soft locks, warm shivers brushing up her back as imagined herself kissing his jaw and neck. Wondering how the prickly stubble against her fingers might scratch against her lips, neck, and inner thighs.

As images and sensations stormed her mind, she tried to keep her breathing steady and even in time with his. Drawing on her years of training for covert ops, so as not to give herself away in the intimate silence.

Refusing to let her mind relinquish control and allow temptation to pull her towards him. Forcing hers focus away from how attractive he was and more on how damaged he appeared. Knowing she was in no place to help heal him when she herself was so broken.

She considered for a moment all he must have been through that night. The stains and wounds only told a tiny piece of the story, but her investigatory skills were already building an image of the battle he may have fought. Hoping that he at least didn't go through it alone. 

It hurt her heart to think of what must have happened to cause the lashes on his face and arm. Aware too, of how lonely it felt to be beaten and wounded in such a way and to have nowhere to go for comfort in the painful aftermath.

“You got a place to stay tonight?” she asked out softly, breaking the silence and tension to stop herself slipping deeper into her feelings for him, as she continued to tend the wound on his face.

She assumed he wasn’t anything close to a local. There wasn’t a branch of the DSO for miles and she couldn’t imagine he wanted to remain living as close to Raccoon City as that town lay.

His eyes slowly opened, and she saw him swallow hard before softly clearing his throat, like he’d just woken up. “I was gonna check into the motel.” he said a little flatly, his conscious mind somewhat afraid of where she was going with her line of questioning and where exactly he’d be willing to follow.

She mulled that over for a beat and found herself troubled, which made her pull back from tending to his face scratches. Letting herself sink back down to the point her butt met her calves beneath her.

“Might not be a good idea. I don’t think those bikers are local, so they’re probably stayin’ there tonight.”

“Shit! Yeah,” Leon sighed, almost sleepily. Feeling cold air curl around him now she’d pulled away. “...Didn’t think of that.”

Her protective instinct suddenly overrode her sense of self-control and she spoke out again before she could consider the impact of her words properly.

“You can crash here, if you want?” she offered, not processing what she’d actually said before the words were hanging in the air. Finding herself shocked that no ounce of regret came tumbling after. “I can confirm my couch makes for a good bed.” she added quickly, trying to clarify it was an innocent, casual, offer - even though they were both wise enough to subconsciously sense it wasn’t.

Leon gave a soft, breathy, laugh. Surprised to be afforded such a kindness. He was already having visions of himself sleeping in his car, or going back to the hospital and napping in a rock hard chair in the girl’s side-room. Neither was appealing, but then he wasn’t sure it was wise for him to agree to stay with her either. Not when her presence was eliciting such a reaction from him and threatening to fully undo what little remained of his resolve to resist temptation.

His hesitation in accepting unintentionally knocked her confidence and she looked down at her hands. Fiddling with a piece of dry cotton wool as she sensed his eyes studying her face. Hating how she felt so girlish and nervous under the heat of his gaze. It wasn’t anything she was used to, as she’d never felt such a way about a man before.

She didn’t know what it was about him that had her feeling and doing all she was, but no matter how hard she tried it felt impossible to put herself back from him.

Leon was taken with just how beautiful she looked in the soft, ambient light of her home. Her thick, dark -almost unruly- curls loosely framing her face. She seemed so much more innocent and gentler now, as if she was showing him a side of her that few ever got to see.

For as much as he hungered to kiss and caress her, he was rapidly becoming enamoured with just being in her energy. Enchanted by the way her persona had shifted so many times across the course of the night, showing him many different sides to herself that he wanted time to explore and get to know better.

The interest and care she’d shown him through the whole of that night too, had both satisfied and stimulated parts of him that sat neglected for so long. Making the thought of letting her go hollow him out inside.

Yet he still mulled over her offer, becoming aware of the ring on his finger again, and he swallowed a dejected sigh.

The weight of the titanium reminded him of how he’d promised not to let alcohol and vulnerability push him into the arms of the first pretty woman to pay him any attention. It was percarious for him to accept her offer -foolish too- knowing how things could easily play out if he didn’t hold strong, but he couldn’t bring himself to decline.

The dying embers of his rational brain told him everything he felt for her was nothing like any of the women who had stepped into his life temporarily before. It was already more intense -deep and oddly complex- not shallow and feckless. It was a cliché to say this time was different; that she was different. Yet there was no denying she was – in so many ways.

He studied her for a moment longer as she lingered at his side. Sitting back on her heels looking almost dejectedly at her hands where she stretched and twisted the cotton wool – quietly awaiting a response.

He recognised her fiddling was showing nerves and that only served to push him closer to her. Hating the idea that he was the thing making her feel that way, especially when she’d taken a leap of faith and offered him sanctuary for the night.

“You in the habit of invitin’ strange men to stay over?” he asked out in a low rasp.

“Yeah,” she said immediately and to his surprise. Her sultry, siren eyes rolled up to lock onto his steely blue gaze, holding for a beat long enough to make him tingle in all the places he was trying so hard to ignore. “...but only on the second Saturday of every month.”

That wickedly playful glint twinkled in her eyes again, leaving him with no control over his reaction. With a warm shiver washing through him he gave a deep chuckle, and shook his head softly. Both amused by her quip -knowing that it was in fact the small hours of the second Saturday of October- and disarmed by her allure again. Feeling the sweetspot within him fall to her again.

He was in awe of how she kept managing to inject humour in exchanges that shouldn’t have allowed for it. He couldn’t seem to get over how much she’d amused him and how many different things she’d had him feeling in such a short space of time. It was as if his head could start spinning at any moment with the twists and turns she pulled on him.

A sensation of yearning began to root deep in his chest as he watched her slowly stand up, gathering the medical items and discarded cotton balls, before going back to the table to pack up her first aid kit.

A comfortable but weighted silence blanketed them again, as he considered his options. He didn’t want to leave, he was certain of that much, but he also knew he was teetering so close to the edge of destroying the vow he made to himself, to resist one night stands and beautiful women who promised oblivion between their thighs.

He desperately didn’t want to put her in that category, or risk hurting her by pulling her in only to let her down, but the thought of tearing himself away from her and going back into the cold night alone crushed him.

“Alright, if you’re sure?” he returned, before he could talk himself out of it.

She nodded, reassuringly but didn’t look back at him, afraid of what she was going to see in his eyes.

“You’re welcome to take a shower too, if you want?” she offered carelessly, immediately kicking herself and following up quickly with a joke to mask her panic. “It’s an all inclusive package.”

Leon gave a faint scoff, as he almost melted right there in front of her. The thought of hot water soothing his bruises and aching back was almost as intoxicating as her touch.

However, even though he didn’t want to make a bad impression with over twenty-four hours worth of sweat and filth clinging to him, it still felt strangely wrong and risky to accept her offer.

Considering the options he had again, his conscience started to yell and stomp. Telling him that he should make excuses and head for the motel, like he’d always planned. Deal with the bikers if they noticed him, and forget about all the fantasies she’d been unknowingly filling his head with.

Yet no matter what the little detractor at the back of his mind said, or how heavy the symbolic ring felt on his finger, he couldn’t tear himself away from her.

Turning to look at him again, and as if she could see into his tormented head, Jules added - “There’s a lock on the bathroom door, you know?” Her voice in that light, almost teasing tone he’d become familiar with over beers at the bar. “Just in case you’re worried I might bust in and take advantage of ya.”

Yet again she had managed to break the tension and make him chuckle, by bringing the potential awkwardness to the light in order to defuse it.

The way he was feeling, all warm and kinda tingly, his head fuzzy with desire made him feel like he wouldn’t mind all that much if she did do such a thing. Yet he feared, should she dare to take such an initiative with him, there was no way he was going to be able to resist.

“Alright, that sounds good.” he accepted, in spite of himself.

The worst part of her wanted to ask if he meant the shower, or her taking advantage of him, but she didn’t want to push it.

Not only because she knew it was wrong to tempt a potentially married man more than she already unwittingly had, but something about him  -despite his powerful appearance and intimidating aura- said he simply longed for a place to rest every part of him - body and soul.

It was easy to see he was warring inside too, with emotions and thoughts that she was afraid to consider in both him and herself - so she didn’t push.

Besides which, even she had some morals when it came to seducing an ‘assumed-to-be married’ man. Telling herself he couldn’t be hers for the taking, and even if he was honest about the ring being a joke that represented he was married to his job - it seemed that in itself would only bring problems she didn’t need as well.

There was no denying he was a nice guy, of course. With an appealing dichotomy of stoic calm and cheesy wit. Kind of intense in some ways; the ‘cool waters run deep’ type, but there was a vibe about him that also said -given half a chance- he had the potential to become one of the most loving and fun people she’d ever met. 

In any other scenario she would have told herself she was crazy to not jump on what she felt for him, but it was all too complicated for her already.

He’d clearly been to hell and back that night too, which suggested he just needed somewhere soft to rest a while. She wanted to give him that so badly, with no strings attached.

As she turned herself away from the table, looking to where he remained fixed to the chair, he covertly scanned her face again, trying to read her while he struggled to understand himself. Where his head was, what he was really feeling, why he’d agreed to stay, but his brain was too full to offer up any straight answers or concoct a plan of action to save himself.

A shower would clear his head, that much he was certain of.

“I’ll grab you some towels.” she offered, feeling his eyes too intensely again and needing to force some distance between them, before the moment evolved in a way neither of them would be able to control.

“Okay, thanks.” With that, he knocked back the last of his brandy, put the glass on the table and got to his feet.

“It’s the middle door.” she told him, stepping backwards towards the kitchen counter to give him plenty of room to escape. Afraid if she remained any closer to him she might be urged to reach out to him in a way that would finish them both.

Leon glanced at her again, giving her an almost shy but grateful half-smile before he headed off to the bathroom. Covering the distance across her apartment quickly, and stepping inside the dimly lit room, to close the door behind him.

Relaxing into his first moment of true solitude since he’d stepped into Pandora with Grace ready to unleash Elpis - he breathed in deep and closed his eyes.

Holding in the breath for a few beats as he tried to settle the percolating desires at his core, and the chaos in his heart and mind, before exhaling heavily and chastising himself for ending up where he stood.

Opening his eyes, he whispered out into the darkened room, like he expected a response to return and offer him some guidance on how to steer his way clear of oncoming disaster.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, Kennedy?”