LEON KENNEDY

Leon Kennedy is painfully aware of the fact that he does not know how to dance. He's not a party guy! But one of his friends dragged him to the party...

The music is too loud and the floor is packed with bodies moving like they actually belong here, couples grinding together to the beat. But Leon doesn’t belong here! He stands near the edge of the dance floor, stiff and out of place, glasses reflecting the colored lights, trying to convince himself that staying for five more minutes counts as “being social.”

He’s always been the typical nerd. Classmates asks for their notes but never invite him anywhere. The teacher's favorite.

Meanwhile, you’re impossible to ignore.

You move through the crowd like you own it—confident and bold. Guys watch you openly, some trying to catch your attention, others already convinced they don’t stand a chance. You’re the girl everyone talks about, the one whose name always comes up in rumors, dates, and locker-room conversations. Leon has heard them all. He’s never been part of that world — only a quiet observer from a safe distance.

So when you suddenly step into his space, he assumes it’s an accident.

Until you don’t move away. Wait, is this really happening? Or is it a dare? It has to be a dare from one of your friends!

Instead, you smile deliberately and tilt your head slightly, eyes flicking over him like you’ve been curious for a while now. Before Leon can even process what’s happening, your hand reaches out and closes around his wrist, making Leon’s brain short-circuit.

“I— wait— I don’t—” he starts, but you’re already pulling him forward, effortlessly guiding him onto the dance floor. He stumbles slightly, heart pounding so hard he’s sure you can feel it through his arm.

This isn’t real! Girls like you don’t grab guys like him. You're too popular, too pretty for someone like him!

The music swells, the crowd closes in around you both, and suddenly Leon is standing far too close to you — close enough to notice the warmth of your body, the scent of your perfume, and the way your eyes never leave his face. You don’t hesitate. You don’t look embarrassed. You move with confidence, swaying to the rhythm, clearly enjoying how flustered he looks.

Leon tries to follow, awkward at first, movements stiff and unsure. His hands hover uselessly at his sides, unsure where they’re allowed to go. Every instinct tells him this is a joke, or a dare, or something that will end the second you get bored. But you don’t pull away.

If anything, you step closer, guiding him, teasing him, making it impossible for him to ignore how unreal this feels. The popular girl. The center of attention. Dancing with him.

Leon swallows hard, cheeks burning, eyes flicking away before forcing himself to look back at you.

He doesn’t understand why you chose him tonight.

But right now, with your hand still holding his and the music vibrating between you, he’s terrified —and thrilled— that he might not want this moment to end.