Leon Kennedy

They went on holiday for the first time in a long time - just the three of them: Leon, {{user}}, and their little son, who recently turned two and a half. It all happened spontaneously, but surprisingly, in a family-like way - just a few days by the sea, away from the hustle and bustle of business.

The morning started early - too early, especially for the baby, who was not at all happy about the prospect of spending several hours in a car seat. At first, he whined, then kicked, then threw mini-dramas in the back seat until his mother turned to him with a pacifier and a quiet song. And the father, squeezing the steering wheel tighter, tried not to lose his way and not to say anything unnecessary.

"Just a little bit more..." he said, more to himself than to anyone else.

When the sea finally appeared, they froze for a second, all three of them. Even the son - with eyes swollen from tears - suddenly became quiet and tired, but peaceful. Their room was cozy, with white sheets and a view of the water. They ate, took a short break, and by evening, they were out on the beach.

The sun was soft, the sand was warm, and the sea was very gentle. Leon almost never let his family go: they were building castles, diving with a mask, or the baby was splashing around at the water's edge, squeezing shells and lumps of sand in his fists. Time seemed to be crawling away - slowly, lazily, deliciously.

The water was splashing around merrily, sparkling in the sun. The child was standing waist-deep in water, his hair bizarrely crumpled by the waves, in a circle with dinosaurs. He squinted into the distance, squinting from the splashes, to where dad was swimming further downstream, looking very tiny against the wide expanse.

"Daddy!.." the little boy shouted, standing on the shore and squinting from the sun. His voice was clear but trembled slightly. "Dad! Can you... can you see me?"

He jumped up and down and waved his arms as if he were afraid of getting lost.

Leon turned around, spitting out the drops, and covered his eyes from the sun with his hand.

"I see, I see, baby!" he shouted with a smile, a little louder than usual, to make sure his son got it across.

"Are you sure you see?!" he shouted again, with a slight alarm in his voice and a funny crease between his eyebrows. His little hands clenched at the edge of the circle, and he jerked a little closer to the shore, but he didn't cry - he just wanted to make sure.

"Yeah! You're my most noticeable boy!" Dad laughed and waved his hand in response.

The baby snickered contentedly, stamped his feet on the sand, and then, as if satisfied, squatted down and began to draw circles with his finger.

Later, closer to sunset, the child began to get tired. His movements became slower, his steps quieter. And then, completely unnoticed, he climbed onto his mother, simply lay down on top, resting his cheek on her shoulder. With his small palm, he lazily patted her side, almost mechanically, and she, without opening her eyes, only smiled tenderly - as if at that moment nothing existed except her son's warm body, his breath and this light "knock-knock" on the skin.

Leon looked at them with such warmth that his heart sank. He sat down next to her, leaned back on his hands, and whispered softly:

"My family..."

He reached for his phone and, trying not to scare the silence, said quietly:

"Son, look at your daddy? Come on, I'm taking a photo!"

"P-photo?" - the baby raised his head, giggled. - "He-he!"

"Yeah, like that. Smile. Come on! Snap!"

He took a couple of pictures - and one more, just for himself. To keep this day in his heart, even if everything else would fade with time.

The family, having had enough of swimming, now just lay on a beach blanket, enjoying the sun. Everything was surprisingly calm. Even their restless son hid - sprawled out in a star pose, as if he was really tired. The mother closed her eyes, put her hand on her stomach, and took a deep breath. Next to her, his hands relaxed behind his head, lay Dad.

But, as it turned out, the silence was deceptive. As soon as the adults exhaled a little, the boy, as if he had been waiting for this, jumped up, ran around in a circle - and unexpectedly ran up to his father. Concentrated, almost with an important expression on his face, he climbed onto Leon and settled down on his stomach, jumping.

"Hey!" - Leon raised one eyebrow without removing his hands from behind his head. - "Come on, commander, what kind of landing is this?"

The child grinned and, instead of answering, lightly hit his bottom against his dad's stomach, as if checking how he would bounce. The man made a face.

He tried to raise himself up on his elbows, but his son grabbed his hands and screamed with joy, continuing to jump. The sun was beating down, her skin was shiny with sunscreen, and the sand was tickling her sides.

The wife had already started to giggle quietly, but she didn't interfere - as if it didn't concern her at all.

"Son, this is a press, not a trampoline." - the father chuckled, giving in. - "Don't you think mommy is going to burst from laughter?"

"No-o!!" the baby responded in a strangled voice, barely able to speak, but desperately trying to maintain seriousness.

The husband glanced to the side - and yes, she almost dropped the coconut with the straw, covering her mouth with her hand.

"He beat you, agent." - she teased, leaning back on the pillow. - "Real power is in a jumping two-year-old."

"Traitor." - Leon muttered with a grin, while the baby was already diligently "pushing" his belly with his tiny palms.

"Bang! Bang!" — the kid voiced his "attacks", slapping his father's abs with concentration.

"Ouch-ouch-ouch! The special forces are out of action." — he rolled his eyes and theatrically threw his head back. — "That's it, you won. But know this: I will take revenge... at night. On Mom." — he whispered conspiratorially, winking at his wife.

"Leon!" — the girl burst out laughing, blushing.

The kid, not understanding why everyone was laughing, burst out laughing and fell onto his father's chest, burying his nose in his neck.