Orphan

Part One:

-Under the Umbrella-

Chapter 14: Dissonance to Harmony

She dreamed of him. It wouldn't be the first time or the last and this one had her tossing in her sleep with more than discomfort from the drastic temperature drop that occurs in a desert at sundown. This one was from a fever in her blood that had Leon Kennedy's face on it.

She was half convinced she'd imagined the whole thing. She knew one of two things would happen now - he'd pull away, or he'd push closer. She was terrified of one, and petrified of the other. Her life was so far from what she'd been, that just thinking of him inside of her left her breathless and dizzy. Who were they here? They weren't who they'd been. They could just be...together. They could just be lovers. They could just be whoever they wanted.

They could just be everything to the other.

The romantic in the girl brought her out of her bedroom in the dark house to search for him and find the couch where he slept empty. She shouldn't be surprised. He never slept. He hardly ate. He drank and fought and fell further into whatever spiral of depression came from being a caged tiger covered in grief and regret.

He was wildfire with those feelings. He was all over the place. He was hurting, he was angry, he was determined, he was cold, he was hot, he was a whirlwind of want and need and misery. She wanted to soothe him. She wanted to heal him. She wanted to protect him.

She didn't know how to help him. She didn't know how to heal him. She didn't know how to do anything but watch him struggle and wish she could take his pain, for just a single moment, until it left him full of laughter and pride again.

He thought he'd lost that arrogant and beautifully prideful boy that had once saved the president's pride and joy from thousands of murdering monsters. Sherry could still see him. He was still in there. He was just lost under a cloying cloud of foggy failure.

Didn't he understand? The failure had never been his. He was just a child of a man who'd spent a life time failing.

Sherry found Leon sitting on the table by the window. The curls of smoke around him highlight his steely profile. The moonlight gilded his cheekbones and the slant of his nose. He was there, like a guard dog, watching the world beyond the glass like he'd stand between it and the girl he'd sworn to protect. Waiting.

He was always waiting.

For what?

She wasn't sure he even knew that answer.

She was about to see which path he'd take. He'd either reject her or he'd let her closer. She approached him like she might a wounded wolf, slowly, tenderly, and looking as non-threatening as possible. It might have been humorous, if she wasn't nearly trembling with fear of rejection.

She knew he was aware of her as she crossed the cool kitchen toward him. The moonlight dotted over his shadowed back, showing the scars to a surreal inspection. Her fingers hesitated and finally settled, sliding over one behind his left shoulder and touching the freshest one that graced his biceps where the bullet had winged him the last time they'd run.

So, it was closer after all. She knew..she was the only person in the world he'd let close enough to really touch him. Her heart filled with him.

Her voice trembled with something mournful and sad, "...so much pain...how do you stand it?"

She was surprised when he actually answered her. The rhetorical question hadn't really been an attempt to get a response. His tone was gruff and tired, "You just...you learn to disconnect it. You learn to just...finish the fucking mission."

Sherry's fingers skimmed the bullet wound on his upper chest. He let his eyes close for a moment as she urged, "This isn't a mission...it's your life...it's your life, Leon...and mine. You're my life. Let me be yours...just..."

He turned his head toward her. His chin settled over the top of his shoulder. His arms were wrapped over his knees where he perched. He watched her, his eyes shiny in the moonlight. He bounced his gaze around her face and he didn't say no. He didn't say stop. He just watched her.

Her hands were shaking. She thought she might pass out with nervous tension. Sherry pressed a kiss, tremulously, against the still pink scar on his arm.

He didn't stop her. He didn't encourage her. He just watched her.

She pressed another to one that flattened along his clavicle. He shifted his head to let her. Her heart started to flutter a little when she kissed another on the back of his neck. Her sweet kisses kept on going - the curve of his ribs on the right side, the smattering of old scars at the base of his spine. The moment she kissed at the edge of his left hip, she felt him shiver and his skin pebbled with goosebumps.

Sherry eased around his side. Her hands curved around his knees and tugged. His legs straightened and let her between, dangling toward the floor. Without a word, he watched her lips continue their journey. She kissed the bullet wound on his chest. She kissed the whitened stripe of claw scars that laced up the side of his neck. As she rose, with him sitting on the table, she was taller than him.

Sherry's shaking hands glided up his back and caught his face. He let her. He let her tilt his head back as her lips kissed over his chin. His voice was rough and deep, "...no scars there, kid."

And she answered, "...no...just pain."

Leon's hands finally moved up and skimmed the outside of her thighs under that big shirt she wore. He cupped them over her hips and those pink panties that haunted him. Sherry's lips skimmed over his nose and he had a moment to think about stopping it. He should stop it.

He didn't want to stop it.

Quietly, Sherry wondered, "...so what now?"

Her sweet mouth touched over his, tender and soft. Leon's hands slid down her butt and tugged. Sherry made a small sound and moved against him. He opened his mouth and urged, lips brushing, "...I think now you kiss me, kid."

Her fluttering heart nearly killed her with how fast it was beating. Sherry made a small mewl of want and obeyed. She pressed her lips to his until he answered the move. His hands roamed up under the shirt and over her naked back. They guided her forward as she licked the seam of his lips until he opened them and her tongue took a journey into the waiting warmth of his mouth.

Leon's met hers in a slow swirl. She whimpered and he sucked softly on hers until she almost collapsed against him. Jesus she was young. She learned his mouth like she eagerly learned the skills his taught her to keep her alive.

She followed his lead, looping the flavor of their joined tongues as he urged her into a harder battle of breath. When the kiss turned wetter, Sherry gripped his face to hold him to her as she sucked and savored him. It was, without a doubt, the best kiss he'd ever had. She was so goddamn desperate. She smelled like peaches and her skin felt smooth and silky.

When she drew back with swollen lips to breathe, his left hand circled her rib cage and cupped one of her breasts. She gasped, thrusting her body into the touch. Uninhibited, unbidden, just all feelings and flushed flesh. She wasn't trying to be anything here. There was no agenda. She just wanted him.

Leon's gruff tone accompanied a dizzy flush on her cheeks as he queried, "...what do you need?"

What did she want?

She didn't know. She only knew one thing. So she said, "...you."

It must have been the right answer because his right hand skimmed down her belly into her panties in answer. She had a moment to feel like she should flee in fear, and his whole palm cupped her over her damp panties. Sherry whimpered, gripping his face, and their mouths brushed as he offered, "...it's ok. I can stop anytime. Ok?"

Sherry shook her head desperately. Her hips rocked against the feel of him touching her. When she made a small gasp, he instructed, "...let me see you."

Nodding, she let go of his face. His hands caught the bottom of her big shirt and tugged it up. She lifted her arms and let him take it, tossing it to the floor. She wanted to object, but his hands on her hips guided her in front of him. He watched her face while he touched her, making her dizzy with need.

Annoyed with the darkness, Leon reached over to flick on the soft light above the stove. It cast a greater glow on her skin and made her gasp softly. He grumbled, "...I want to see you."

And she thought maybe, just maybe, it was the first time she'd seen anything but pain on him in a long time.

He cupped her breasts, weighing them, and her nipples peaked prettily for his thumbs that swept back and forth across them. She shivered, watching his face as he leaned over to taste each one. Wet and hot, the feel of his mouth made her nearly fall back against the wall behind her.

To spare her, Leon guided her to sit on the table and slid off it to move around her. Her hands braced behind her at the hips, his hands skimmed down her belly and parted her thighs, opening her legs to see her panties in the light. She flushed hot with embarrassment as he murmured, "...fuck...already wet."

Voice quick with shame, she told him, "...I'm sorry."

He laughed.

He knew it was wrong. The second it happened, he knew it was wrong. She looked like he'd kicked her puppy. Before she could close her legs in shame, his hand slid into her panties. She gasped, and he soothed, "...no...sorry? God no. It's good. Sherry...wet? It's good."

His arm scooped around her hips and lifted. Her legs looped around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom she'd left behind and laid her back on the mattress. His hands caught the hips of her panties and pulled, her legs bicycled to help him, and she had a moment to know this was it. This was it. It was the moment he stopped doing anything but letting the same crippling need she'd felt for years crush them both.

He wanted to taste her and show her, but he couldn't wait. His hand caught hers and guided it between her legs. He set the rhythm of her touching himself as his own shifted to peel down his sleeping pants. He watched her face flush with shy want when his dick caught the light from the bathroom and revealed itself like a filthy pervert looking for a show.

Sherry's free hand painted along his belly. Leon curled his fingers around the girth of his cock and stroked it. She watched, trembled, and couldn't hold the look. Her lashes lowered demurely over her pink cheeks. She was shaking. She was so nervous.

Her innocence was intoxicating.

He wanted to drown in it.

There was an urgency he couldn't define in him to just take her.

So, he answered that urgency. He climbed onto the bed, caught her hips, and tugged her forward. Her legs opened, her hands shot up to grip his biceps as he leaned over her. His hand guided his dick at the warmth of her.

He should ask her if she was sure. He knew she was pure. He should ask her to be sure it's what she wanted. Instead, his mouth told her, "...it'll hurt, baby. Just...stay with me."

Before she could ask what he meant, he showed her. His dick embedded itself of her. She stretched, she gasped, and he wasn't easy about it. He didn't sweetly slide inside of her - he claimed her body with a very determined thrust. Sherry's cry was musical somehow as he seated himself inside of her. Her hands scrambled and slapped a little at his chest with the pain that came when she ripped inside.

Her eyes pricked with tears. She wanted to command him to get out of her, but he looked so goddamn happy to be inside. His mouth lowered and nuzzled at hers. She whined sweetly and opened her mouth. His kiss soothed her. The burning of his invasion was softened by the sound of his voice, "...I'm sorry, sweetheart. Just-it'll-fuck."

His expression was part sorrow for hurting her, part joy of being buried to the balls inside of her. Her body just kept pulsing, squeezing, soaking, seeking whatever he wanted to deposit inside of it. He wanted to pull out and sink back in to feel it contract and accept him, a hot hug of her body simply surrendering to the plunge of his inside of her. When she whimpered, he did just that.

He went out. He went in. She gasped and resisted slightly, shaking beneath him. She whispered, brokenly, "...it hurts."

He knew that.

He knew it hurt.

He was hurting her.

He should stop.

His mouth lowered instead. He kissed her, sinking into the savoring taste of her mouth. She craned up toward him, drowning in it. His arms gathered around her, pressing her against him. He was inside of her...he was holding her to comfort her...he was inside of her.

Sherry's hands gripped his face. She turned it toward her to kiss him with everything she'd wanted for years. She was here. She was in his bed, but he was inside of her. It felt like a dream.

After a few moments of desperate kissing, he caught her hands to pin them over her head. She whimpered, submitting, even as her body burned a little with the first few thrusts. Their fingers twined, holding above her now as her body welcomed his weight. Her breasts jutted prettily as her back bowed, as her thighs spread to offer him more. Without all the hair, the sheer beauty of her face was haunting.

His arms gathered behind her to pull her up. She straddled into his lap, whimpering while he fucked her. Her arms and legs seized around him. She went up and came down on him without prompting. He surged beneath her, twisting her hair around his fingers to kiss her wetly while he tried to find out how deep he could go.

When she went impossibly wet around him, Leon lowered his mouth to help himself to the sweet taste of those pink, pink, pink nipples. Sherry gasped, her body sealed around the splitting surge of his dick claiming it, and he knew it was time. It was time.

He slung her to her back on the bed while she quivered. He pulled out of her and made her wince. She was still quaking when he painted her belly and pretty blonde bush with the hardest damn orgasm he'd had in years. His hand shot out to brace on the wall behind her where she lay. He leaned over and swathed her sweet skin in sticky ropes of cum. It looked like pearls woven among the soft hair of her pussy.

Sherry's hands slid up his belly, stroking and soothing somehow as he came all over her. When he finished, trembling, she caught his face to tug him down. They kissed over the sign of her surrender, his mouth making hers ache with its desperation.

He was aware she hadn't had an orgasm. He knew it. He'd wanted to give her one, but his own need had risen like leviathan and tugged him down into the depths of its own release.

After a moment, he rolled away to go into the bathroom.

Sherry lay on the bed blinking at the ceiling.

She wasn't a virgin anymore. She wasn't a virgin anymore. She wasn't a virgin anymore. It felt surreal. She'd given her virginity to the rookie who'd saved her in Raccoon City. She'd given herself to the only man she'd ever loved.

She wanted to feel anything but joy, but couldn't.

She was afraid he'd run now. He'd run away from her like he'd been doing for years. He'd just r-

He cleaned off his release from her with a damp cloth. She lay still as a statue watching him. He cleaned her up and took the rag back to the bathroom. She waited, wondering what happened now.

The bed springs squeaked. He crawled over it. Her arms lifted and down he came. He just...laid atop her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her legs parted, he moved between, and his arms curled around her back and body. She felt her eyes close with happiness.

No running.

He just laid there and held on.

He dragged the blanket up over them where they lay. His mouth turned into the bend of neck and shoulder. She turned her face, testing, and he met her mouth in a sloppy kiss.

Just like that - he was hers.

She would spend the rest of her life destroying anyone who tried to take him away.

She tried out her last test, "...I love you."

He snuggled his mouth against her again. His hand slid up under the covers to play with her breasts. He waited a moment and finally replied, "...ditto, kiddo."

Not the exact response she wanted, but he'd never been the type to shout poems from the rooftop. She'd take it. She'd take him. She'd keep him. She'd kill every last fucking person who even made him doubt himself ever again.

And she just laid there listening to him breathe while they both just kept holding on.

He was gone when she woke with the sunlight on her shoulder. Her eyes blinked. Her belly quivered and she remembered. She'd dreamed of him so often, for a long moment, she'd almost forgotten it wasn't one.

Sherry rolled to her back on the bed. She covered her mouth with her hands and just giggled. It wasn't the most grown up response in the world, no, but it was the right one for a girl who'd spent a long time waiting for the right boy.

The right boy? Nope. The right man. Even if he just...stopped. Even if he just stopped looking at her now. She knew he saw the woman she was and not the girl she'd been. She was a woman now. She was his woman...if he wanted her.

Sherry draped one of his t-shirts around her and eased down the hallway. He was strumming his guitar in the living room. She didn't smell any lingering cigarette smoke. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly nine a.m.

He hadn't smoked.

She didn't see a half devoured glass of Jack Daniels anywhere either.

He hadn't drank. He hadn't smoked.

Loving her had...what? Calmed him? Had she somehow found a way to help him after all? Was she better than any of his vices?

Her whole body warmed as if she'd stepped into the sunlight.

She listened until the music stopped and turned to get a mug from the cabinet to pour herself some coffee. He was leaning there on the arch between rooms watching her. Heart knocking, she offered, "You want some coffee?"

She dropped the mug as he simply over took her. It was aggressive, and very wonderfully alpha male, and almost too much for a girl still riding the romance from knowing she was the thing worth waiting for him too. He scooped her up against him. Her arms looped around his shoulders as he set her on the counter and she opened her legs to let him between them.

They clung, Sherry's fingers missing the fall of his hair to bury in. She closed her eyes and simply absorbed him. No words necessary.

His mouth murmured against her neck and shoulder, "...you sore?"

She blinked. Her body swelled with need as she realized what he was asking, "...nope."

His laugh was a little muffled. Her eyes squeezed with happiness to hear him do it. Laughter. He needed it. He was a man who thrived in humor. He was just that guy. He was funny and sardonic and witty. He punned and made bad jokes and was adorable when he was drunk.

She'd missed him. He'd been here the whole time, but not really. Somehow, he was here right now.

Testing him, Sherry turned his face up to her. She held it, he looked at her in a way that was just so...gentle, and she kissed him slowly. His mouth turned up into a grin, "...why do you look like you're waiting for me to fart on you?"

Sherry felt her mouth twitch, "...I wasn't sure how you'd be after -"

Leon shook his head. He stole her breath and simply palmed her naked groin with his hand where she was pressed against him on the counter. Her eyes flared and he told her, voice thick with emotion, "...not a coward, Sherry. An idiot, maybe, but not a coward. You want me?"

LORD. Her heart was hurting. She nodded, breathless, and he echoed it, remarking, "...then here I am. Where it goes..." He shrugged, and finished, "We could be dead in an hour. So, I'm done hiding from this...and you. I'm here...I want you..so..."

His hands slid up under the shirt and palmed her breasts. Her eyes crossed and she slumped into him. His laugh was like music to her ears, "...so, just let me have you."

Her voice broke as he kneaded her begging body while she squired, "...for as long as can?"

He leaned down. Their lips brushed, his voice was thick and hungry, "...for as long as I want...leave your door open...and just let me in."

She opened her mouth to accept him. She opened her thighs in acceptance. She opened her heart in desperation. Did he think she'd ever say no?

"Why don't you want to go...ya know...inside of me?"

He looked up from where he was flipping through pages from some reports Hunnigan had funneled him via a courier in town. His brows knit as he asked, "...what?"

"You...you don't..." Sherry gestured at her groin, "...you don't go..." Her face flamed pink with some kind of embarrassment that made him adore her, "...in me."

Leon tilted his head, "...I don't want to get you pregnant."

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

Of course that was why. She had a moment to feel like an idiot. Of course, that was the only reason. At first, she'd thought it felt bad inside of her or something. She shook her head, face still hot with embarrassment, "...I thought maybe you didn't - that I wasn't..." She blew out a hard breath and laughed at herself, "...I'm stupid."

He blinked twice before he returned, "...Sherry...do you think it's because I don't want to?"

Her face turned red as she assuaged, "...n-no. Hah. No. I'm being-I'm just being stupid. I'm sorry I brought it up. What are you working on there?"

He'd loved her three times since that first time. It had been a handful of the best days of her life. She was risking it on a stupid insecurity. She couldn't believe that he would want her in that very, very, very intimate way. She was just being a virgin, a dumb one. She was kind of afraid he'd turn away from her for it.

She turned on her heel and left him.

He woke her from a nap at sundown. He rolled her over, stripped the shirt off her body, and peeled the panties down her legs. She waited, breathless, for him part the folds of her and touch her. He watched her face while he stroked her, she held her legs open and gripped his forearms while he got her wet.

She knew what he'd do. She could see it on him. She warned, "...you-you don't have to...just because I-"

He guided her hand to his body and she stopped thinking. They worked him together, fingers curling until he was thick and hard in their milking fists. His face flushed, making her feel magical somehow. He leaned down to kiss her as he angled into her wet sheath.

She took him, her body made for it now, and her back bowed with the pleasure. Their hands caught over her head and held as her feet braced on the bed at his hips to open for him. He was so tall that he had to hunker down a little to kiss her, but it was worth it.

They watched each other. The soft music of her bodies surrender was quiet in the red and pink of a dying day. Gasping, Sherry gushed, "...I'm so wet...the sound -"

Jesus. She was the best thing he'd ever had his hands on. She was worried that...what? Her soaking pussy sucking him in might be disgusting somehow? Trembling near pumping her full of cum and dying there insode of her, Leon grunted, "...it's good, baby, it's so good. Look at me. Up here."

Her pink face, her flushed breasts, those pink nipples - her lips parted and wet - her desperate face collapsing with pleasure as she reached that edge...and he shoved her over, stroking her clit until she clamped, crying out high and loud, and humped wildly at his invading dick. Leon lost his rhythm. He fucked her hard and fast, her body squelching madly as it swallowed him down.

And he warned her, "...I can't..."

She thought...can't what?

And then? He did.

He grabbed her face to fuck her mouth with his tongue while she mewled and just erupted inside of her. Sherry thought - holy hell that's what he meant- not can't...can't wait.

Her hands grabbed his hips, she forced him harder with each thrust as his cock twitched and spit desperately into the sucking walls of her body, and Sherry whined sweetly with her own release still seizing her around him.

It was, without a doubt, the best sex he'd ever had.

He stroked his body into hers until they were both panting and sticky and still.

Sherry keened a little and confessed, "...it was hot. It felt hot in me."

Leon, hoarse, returned, "...yeah...hot...fuck you're so hot..."

Oh, her heart. She loved him. She was wild with it. Sherry gripped his ass to hold him inside of her. He was never eager to get off after they were done. He stayed there, twitching his dick inside of her body, and just let her feel him.

Part of her never wanted to leave this safe house. Here, he'd lost some part of who he'd been, but her? She'd found herself. She was a woman. She was a partner. She was a friend. She was a companion. She was just Sherry - just his lover. And him? He was just the man who'd given her everything.

They drifted off to sleep together - replete, content, and unaware that the dawn would bring with an end that neither could even begin to expect.