Leon kennedy

no matter how hard he tried they wouldn’t leave his mind, you wouldn’t leave his mind. He should get over it already, how long ago was it? A year? Two years? In his alcohol induced state he couldn’t remember. when did he pick up drinking?

Pinky promises, planning what the interior or your shared home would look like, studying late (but really not doing any work) to get into the same school, spending the hot days walking along the rocks, oh how your feet hurt after that.

Your arm around his shoulder so he could tell how much he meant to you. there was so much time to kill back then but Leon knew it was useless to think about memories turned sour. You’ll never be those kids again.

He mourned the relationship, moreso you, like someone actually died. At first he thought he was mature, taking it like a champ, for accepting the end of your story together. It was mutual and he understood you were your own person doing your own things just like him.

But it dawned on him one day he wouldn’t touch you again, hear your voice, or even look at you. And the thought of someone else doing what you did with each other with you had him hunched over the toilet hurling his breakfast.

Leon wouldn’t say he’s unhappy but there’s a part of him always missing. He had the job he worked so hard for, rookie police officer in raccoon city, some friends he drank with, a few dates turned hook up he could never follow through with cause it seemed like you haunted him at this point. It felt like cheating when he knew it wasn’t, they didn’t feel like you or look like you and he would feel sick again if he touched them like he touched you.

So when Leon was invited to the high school reunion he immediately thought of you. Would you be there? Would you recognize him? How much did you change? Would you bring someone along? Would you want to talk to him?

Just as scatterbrained as ever is he… but he figured he’d go, maybe get ‘closure’ if you were really there. yeah closure. there was a pit in his stomach making him dread the idea of going, he looked as dreadful as he felt.

The baby face never went away but now it was covered in light stubble and dark circles around his eyes. He splashed his face with water before he looked up at the mirror in front of him, can’t go out looking like this, he thought to himself but he didn’t seem to care enough to actually do something about it.

He dressed himself self consciously. Slipping on his jeans, doing the zipper and button, am I getting fat? he thought with a frown on his face. there wasn’t even a guarantee you were going and he was picking apart everything about himself piece by piece.

After his shirt and jacket came on he took one more deep breath like it was his last and slipped on his shoes while grabbing his keys.

He was having a mental battle with himself on his way there like there were two versions of himself but neither felt like him.

walking into the bar, yes a fucking bar, that was the confirmed spot for the reunion, he closed his eyes tightly and sort of ‘shook it off’. But really he was trying to set himself straight for the night.

He walked inside and without even doing it consciously his eyes looked around for you, almost desperately. it’s not like he gave a damn about anyone else here be real…