#... my bad

but things have started to wane; leon has been gone more often, you've been left alone in your apartment more often than not over the last few months, and you love him but how much longer can you realistically compromise before it becomes too much?

when you'd voiced this, it had resulted in a pretty explosive argument and leon had left just like that. he left without saying goodbye, without a kiss, without an apology. he'd given you nothing and for the next two weeks, you worried that this was over, that he'd come back and tell you that he thought it was better that you break up and that you needed to pack your things and move out.

that's not what he's done though. when he walked in the door an hour ago, you'd been pacing in your shared bedroom, debating for the fourteenth night in a row if you should just pack your shit and be gone before he got back; you'd been almost certain that would be his decision.

but he'd stepped into the bedroom, dropped his rucksack, and captured your face in his hands, kissing you without even a hello. there was no prelude, no words exchanged; there was just his lips on yours and his rough hands on your cheeks and suddenly the mattress under your back.

now, you're reclined against the pillows with leon situated between them. his hands capture yours, pressing them into the pillowtop, your fingers intertwined, as he keeps an even, slow pace. two weeks and you forgot just how good his cock fills you, hits all the right places because he knows you better than you know yourself.

"i'm sorry," he says against your throat, breath hot at your jugular. "spent that whole mission beating myself up about what i said to you. i worried i'd come back and you'd be gone."

"i'd never leave," you stutter out, arching your back at a particularly well aimed thrust. "i thought about it, but only because i worried you'd come back and tell me to get out."

he pulls his head from your neck and looks down at you, eyebrows knit together. even though he's fucking you so good, his eyes are still sad and your heart bleeds.

"i'd never tell you to leave," he whispers, breaking off the last word when you squeeze around him and he hisses in pleasure. "never. i'll prove it to you, pretty girl."

and prove it he does.