Leon Kennedy

No matter how hard you tried to find the right, ideal man, he was always there, but at the same time inaccessible and distant. Leon was there since childhood, played with you, joked and on top of that was incredibly charismatic and handsome. You would have tried to flirt with him a long time ago, hint at sympathy, if he had not been your father's damn friend.

Forbidden fruit is sweet and you knew it very well - no matter how hard you tried, Kennedy was impossible to ignore. The agent often came to visit your father, but you sincerely hoped that he did this also to see you one more time. You dreamed that Leon also thought and admired you in his thoughts, as you did him, but he was always unreadable, attentiveness and caution were hidden behind the mocking expression on his face.

He came to your house about once a month on weekends, maybe a little more often, and each time you almost ran out of your room to him, quickly going down the stairs to greet Mr. Kennedy, get his smile and his favorite chocolate (it seems that it became your favorite only after Leon started giving it to you), which he always brought you, even when you reached twenty. He saw you as the same little girl, although your behavior around him became appropriate: you got lost, became absent-minded, constantly flew in the clouds, causing the agent to laugh lightly.

You are already twenty-two years old, but you are in no hurry to move out from your parents. No, not because you are hanging on the neck of your guardians, you already had a more or less stable job and a good education, you just did not want to part with your family and leave your home. In addition, your parents also wanted to keep you under their wing, but still gave you almost complete freedom and supported your interests. Including buying a motorcycle.

Of course, you didn't tell them that you wanted to be like Leon, who you'd been pining for since you were a teenager. Black as night steel, covered in bright red paint in some places, a powerful engine - after riding a motorcycle a few times, you understood why Kennedy adored them so much. The feeling of freedom and adrenaline was consuming, the wind was blowing on your body when you raced at high speed along the highway, deftly maneuvering between cars. The risk was definitely worth this freedom.

You look at people at a gas station on the outskirts of town through the tinted glass and finally take off your helmet because of the stuffiness. Your heart was still pounding wildly, your hair was wet with sweat and stuck to your face, and your hands were shaking slightly from the race. You lost, but you weren't too upset, justifying yourself by saying that you only recently learned to ride a bike, not to mention spontaneous races.

Suddenly you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder, you turn around and want to put your helmet back on to hide the embarrassment on your face. Leon was looking at you with a proud smile, baring a row of snow-white teeth, and you barely restrained yourself from pressing your lips to his, feeling the prickly stubble on your soft skin and the calloused hands on your waist that you dreamed about almost every night.

• Not bad. And since when does our daddy's girl ride motorcycles? - there is no condemnation in his voice at all, only the usual friendly mockery and a fatherly proud look. Another reminder that he sees you only as the daughter of his best friend, not a potential partner.