Leon Kennedy

You loved Leon for everything. For his courage, masculinity, beauty, and so much more. How could anyone not love him? But one of his most valuable qualities was his honesty. He never lied. Almost.

You knew that Kennedy was lying when he said he wasn’t perfect. Strange, because you’d never noticed any flaws in him. Even when you strained and thought about it seriously, you couldn’t find anything you didn’t like about him. When you tried to explain this to your husband, he immediately started denying it. Modesty is a good thing too.

Leon claimed he wasn’t a perfect person. And once again, that was a lie: Kennedy was a real gift from fate. You literally blessed the day when you first met. You realized everything from the very beginning: he is your one and only. In fact, Leon was far from being your first man. And you sincerely regretted it. All your previous relationships with others, as you thought, made you feel corrupt and dirty. The very thought that before him you had been with disgusting, lustful men was horrifying.

Never before had guilt weighed so heavily with such overwhelming force. Kennedy, however, seemed not to care at all. First, third, or even the fifteenth — what did it matter to him? The main thing was that you were with him now. Maybe he was right. After all, he was your man. At some point, you even started to consider seeing other people as a betrayal, so one day you asked your husband if he would mind if you quit your job. You had to come up with another reason: You, unlike Leon, weren’t always honest. Kennedy asked if you were sure about your decision, and after you agreed, he said he would support any decision you made. Lord, how did you even deserve him?

Soon you stopped communicating with all your friends. They started to supposedly worry about you, calling your love unhealthy, sometimes even an obsession. You tried to convince them otherwise, but the girls just wouldn’t stop. They advised you to see a psychologist and stop fixating on Leon alone.

But how could you not fixate on him? Why would you even need anyone else besides your husband? That’s exactly why all the former “friends” ended up on the blacklist. Really, why didn’t you think about this earlier? You wanted to completely immerse yourself in him alone, but how can you do that when there are other people in your life?

After getting rid of the unnecessary anchors, you finally felt clean. And you could devote herself entirely to only the one who deserved it.

Household chores had never been a problem. But now, with Leon at work, there was nothing left to do but take care of the daily routine. you cooked dinner for your beloved, tidied up, and threw the dirty laundry into the wash — the clock showed noon. At times like these, even the washing machine’s drum seemed interesting.

Why does Leon have to go to that stupid job? What for? You already had plenty of money, so could it be that you’re not giving him enough? Something he’s looking for at the office or on assignments?

On the one hand, you understood how important his profession was. You understood that Kennedy couldn’t just quit and retire. But still...

It seemed as if you were spending less time together. Your husband would come home from work tired, have dinner, and then almost immediately go to bed. Daytime leisure became similar to nighttime: at both times of day, you just lay there and watched. Only at night was it not just aimless gazing at everything that caught your eye. You physically couldn’t take your eyes off Leon. And it was no worse than spending time together. In complete silence, in the moonlight, your beloved looked even more beautiful than usual. You began to notice the slightest changes in his face. For some reason, with each passing night, his cheeks became a little more and more hollow. It's strange that he was losing weight, because you always tried to make homemade food quite satisfying and rich.

You've noticed even the smallest things: how much stubble he's grown over the past day, how his lips open just a little in a dream, how he frowns slightly sometimes, and how even and deep his breathing is. you felt an indescribable feeling when I saw all this.

Such immense tenderness, such great love, that the heart was torn and hurt by its scale. you tried to describe her to you now‑former friends, but how could they possibly understand? Could they really grasp, understand you even a little, if they’d never known what it was like to love Leon?

You kissed him and wanted to cry from how much you loved him. From this pure, unspoiled affection. He really was perfect: caring, devoted, protective. And he ended up with you! What on earth did you do to deserve such happiness? You wanted to kiss every millimeter of his skin, not to leave your beloved for a single second, and you were burning with the desire to spend absolutely all your free time together.

Screw his job! To hell with those colleagues, random encounters, and young recruits! Why does he need all that? Why, when he has you? Especially since you’ve spent so much time apart because of his profession.

You didn’t want to hurt Kennedy, but... But he’ll just get a headache. You’d stocked up on sage of the soothsayers and were now brewing tea from it for Leon. It was thought that you husband would start staying at home due to his terrible health, but the plan quickly fell apart: he suffered from migraines and didn’t get enough sleep, but even when the dosage in the tea was increased, he didn’t care about his own condition and stubbornly went to work.

There was also a downside: after drinking the tea, Leon would turn pale for a while and become completely helpless, like a child. He would stumble as he tried to make it to the bedroom, cling to you, and mutter something incoherent, staring off into space. Oh God, you were practically coming from how much he needed you at those moments.

Your beloved was falling on you as he climbed the stairs, trying to get to the bed and fall asleep. Of course, you couldn’t hold on to such a man, and you had to lean against the wall yourself, trying to help Kennedy maintain his balance. His eyes are relaxed, and you can see them in minute detail: his pupils have grown to obscene sizes and almost completely swallowed the faded blue iris. And even though you adored her shade, you liked that look even more.

You can’t stand it, you call him by name, you kiss Leon right on the lips, but he doesn’t respond. It seems he didn’t even close his eyes during the kiss. It was as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. And the very thought that he was like this, right beside you, that he trusted you enough to stay in that state, filled you with indescribable delight. You were sure that your beloved also got pleasure from something like that.

Half an hour later, your husband would come to his senses — if he hadn’t fallen asleep by then — but he wouldn’t remember anything. He would complain of an unbearable headache and clench his teeth in a futile attempt to figure out how he, who had been in the kitchen, suddenly ended up in the bedroom. And then he would simply pass out after a series of unsuccessful attempts.

There was also one significant downside: the nighttime observations stopped, because Leon was apparently now haunted only by nightmares. You are not entirely sure it’s because of your “special” herbal tea, but still. Kennedy was constantly tossing and turning, changing his position every few seconds, muttering something with an incomprehensible intonation, or flinching. Now you didn’t dare sleep on his chest — I’d fall off anyway after about ten minutes — but on the other end of the bed, so as not to be accidentally hit by his arm in his sleep.

That night, Leon himself interrupted the tossing and turning by suddenly waking up and getting out of bed. The man was breathing raggedly and only began to calm down after you came into his field of vision. It was incredibly painful to watch your beloved suffer, but it was all for his sake. For your sake.

You brew him tea again using the sage of the soothsayers, adding a little more leaves than usual. You weren’t getting the expected effect, so you had to change something.

Carefully, you place the mug in front of your husband, stand behind him, put your arms around his neck, and murmur something affectionate in his ear. Leon doesn’t drink right away — he sniffs the bright aroma slightly, winks, and frowns.

“Did you brew spinach?” Kennedy smirks darkly.