#the redfields

Somehow Chris reads your mind.

“He is going to be here soon,” Redfield vows, although you don’t think that he is in a position to. Leon S. Kennedy should’ve been the only man to vow anything to you today.

“Where is he?” you ask again, this time with a specific accent at beginning of the sentence, and the more you eye both Claire and Chris with a searching glance the heavier the air. Claire gives her brother a dirty look, and only then Chris admits:

“Leon was called to work last night,” Redfield confesses. You blink once, feeling sick. This would mean that last night Leon lied to you. Chris seems to notice your thought process again. “He didn’t want to worry you. He was supposed to be quick.”

“He was supposed to be at his bachelor’s party,” you object. You can’t blame Chris for Leon’s assignment, but right now you have to blame someone. Redfield understands.

Claire makes a step forward, touching your shoulder, and then hugs you. You freeze for a second, but then hug her back, and Claire holds you tight.

There is still hope that he shows up. Sooner or later, and better late than never. Observing Leon for the past months, you are afraid of “never” being a real possibility even without his stupid job intervening. After all, he didn’t have a great track record of committed relationships, and he wasn’t himself since you’ve started talking about your engagement.

You pull away from Redfield after some time and take a deep breath, collecting yourself.

“He is worth the wait,” Claire says gently, and you show her a weak, but sincere smile in reply.

“He is,” you mumble. He is worth it indeed. This man is a walking problem, but you care about him too much to give up on him that easily. Also, he is lucky to be pretty.

So you ask the Redfield siblings for a favour, – to take care of the guests, – and you wait.

You just need him to get back to you alive. The rest is easy, no matter how hard the conversation is going to be.

***

Your wedding banquet is sacrificed in an attempt to make it up to the people who showed up for the wedding that has never happened. Leon is not just late – he is too late at this point, and your faith is running thin. Also, you are painfully sober for the sake of staying sane by the time he’s back.

He has to get back.

Chris, on the other hand, is a half way into the bottle of whiskey, although, considering his constitution, he needs a lot more alcohol to get drunk. You think that you’ve made a right decision sending him to entertain the guests.

Later you take it as a bad omen when Redfield approaches you with a concerned look at his face.

“His operator says that he’s off the grid,” Chris sees your confusion. He is quick to explain. “Leon isn’t responding.”

Redfield doesn’t like how your eyes widen, and he adds in the last detail; the one he would pay a pretty penny for not to say it out loud at your wedding.

“He was declared missing ten minutes ago,” Chris places his wide palm on your shoulder, but you resent his pity. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t respond, and it takes you a moment to decide on the course of your actions.

You attract everyone’s attention with the loud clink of an exquisitely looking silver knife on a thin champagne glass.

Then your voice breaks for the first time.