Warnings: no beta, OOCness, English is not my first language, inconsistent tenses, i am very bad at prepositions, sexual situations
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: gfdi why is every aeon fic i write practically the same i wrote and edited this in a day so please don't expect much
Ada's eyes were still closed, but she felt Leon's lips press against her forehead before the bed dipped. She opened her eyes just in time to see him pick up his boxer shorts from the floor before putting them on. She caught a glimpse of his back—his back that she made a canvas and painted on using her mouth and nails. There were the half-moon impressions from her sharp nails, the light scratches that ran the length of his back, and red and purple bruises scattered all throughout. Her work of art, she thought, before smiling to herself.
He headed to the bathroom. She heard the tap turn on and she imagined him smearing shaving cream across his jaw. She imagined him cursing her various cosmetics and skincare products that took up space on his bathroom counter—products which seemed to have stayed indefinitely in his bathroom. She came and went like a ghost, but she left indelible traces of herself in the various corners of his place.
Like that lacy red bra that she left hanging on his closet door handle a few years back. She left it there as a joke, but was surprised to see it still there every time she visited him.
"You never did get rid of that," she said when Leon stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered. He had a tiny towel slung across his waist and she wanted to get rid of it immediately.
He followed her line of sight and saw her staring at her old bra. He chuckled and towelled his hair dry, saying, "I don't see any good reason to throw it away."
She was lying on her side, the blankets pulled up to her chest. She stretched her arms in invitation, and in an instant, he was sitting on the bed, his back facing her and her arms wrapped around his waist.
"What would all the girls you bring here say when they see that?" She toyed with the hem of that infuriating towel and then reached under, brushing the skin of his thigh. She trailed a finger across his inner thigh and smiled impishly upon hearing his breathing grow heavier.
"I have never brought anyone here besides you." He parted his legs. "It's always either their place or a hotel."
Her fingers stilled. "Why? Why not bring them here?"
He snorted. "You know how our jobs are. We could never be too careful." He turned to face her and brushed the hair away from her face. He caressed her cheek and she leaned in to his touch, and he said, grinning, "What if one of them was a spy, huh?"
She returned his smile and placed a kiss on his palm. "Oh dear. That would be quite the conundrum." She reached up and gently tugged the towel hanging from his neck, bringing their lips together, and when they parted, she said, "Good morning, Leon."
He surged forward and opened her mouth with his. He let her finally undo the flimsy knot of the towel around his waist, but just as she was getting to the good part, he clamped a hand over her eager fingers.
"I can't. I have to go," he said, eyes dark and voice forlorn.
She vaguely recalled him saying something about leaving early last night because of a meeting, but she couldn't really think straight while his fingers were pleasuring her.
"Do you really have to go?" she asked, the irony of the situation making her inwardly laugh. How many times had she heard those same words from him? Usually, she was the one who left first. This time, it was the other way around.
"I'm usually the one begging you to stay." He carded his fingers through her hair, and then smirked and said, "How the tables have turned."
"And I'm the one left frustrated," she replied, almost pouting.
He kissed her nose. "Now you know how it feels."
He stood up and walked towards his closet. He removed the towels from his neck and waist and hung them on a nearby peg. For a moment, she just lay there on the bed, content in admiring his naked back(side).
He put on a fresh pair of boxers and trousers, and then took out a white button-down. She got out of the bed, wrapping his blanket around her chest. She walked towards him, the blanket trailing behind her.
Like a wedding gown.
She banished the thought from her head, but it looked like she wasn't the only one who had that treacherous thought; Leon was looking at her with misty eyes full of emotions that she didn't dare name. She buttoned his shirt for him, the cuffs following next. She brushed imaginary lint away and smoothed imaginary wrinkles on his shirt, letting her hands linger on his chest far longer than was strictly necessary.
He took her left hand, kissed her palm, the back of her hand, and her knuckles, his lips ghosting over her left ring finger. He looked her in the eyes and placed her hand over his chest, a few inches below the gunshot wound that he had sustained because of her.
"Do you feel that, Ada?" he asked.
She felt the thump thump thump of his heart and nodded.
"It's yours," he said, his eyes never wavering away from hers. "It's all yours. It's always going to be yours."
There was an ache in her chest, an ache that she felt every time she left Leon, an ache that always demanded her to stay for just a little bit longer. And she did, and the ache would temporarily go away, but it always came back stronger the next time. She wondered how long could she continue leaving him until the pain became unbearable, until she was forced to choose between two equally disastrous things—leave him, or stay with him.
Both choices led to a perilous life. They have been toeing the lines between safety and danger for more than a decade a now, but how long could they keep this up?
"You're not gonna be here when I return, are you?" he said with a certainty that only hundreds, if not thousands, of instances of Ada leaving him could bring. No matter how many nights they spent together, it was always a given that they would separate the following morning.
Ada removed her hand from his chest, away from the heartbeat that Leon assured her would always belong to her. She caught sight of her bra that still hung on Leon's closet door. She stared at it and it seemed to taunt her, as if saying, I'm always here with him. What about you?
She gave that to him as a joke, but now, it was the one mocking her.
Ada smiled sadly. "You know I'll have to eventually leave."
Leon shook his head. "You always do." He turned to his closet and took out a dark blue jacket that brought out his eyes, and then shrugged it on.
"I guess I'll see you next time," he said bitterly. "Don't forget to lock up, okay?"
She smiled at Leon's attempt at levity. She leaned up and kissed him on his lips, soft, chaste, and unhurried, but full of unspoken words. "See you next time, Leon."
He kissed her cheek. "See you next time, Ada."
And so he left, and Ada just stood there with the ghost of his kiss on her finger as a wedding ring and his blanket wrapped around her as a wedding dress. She stood there and felt her heart beat—a heart which constantly beat for him. She stood there and thought of all her belongings strewn about in his flat like she lived there. She stood there and felt that familiar ache course through her body with a violence that she had never felt before.
She stood there and stared at her bra on his closet door, mocking her.
She took that bra and angrily shoved it inside her duffel bag, intending to burn it. Over the years, she became the brunt of a joke that she had made, but it was high time that she ended it.
They both lived dangerous lives, and whether she left Leon or stayed with him, her past would continue to haunt her. If that was the case, then maybe she should just stay with him. Maybe she should just let him help her eradicate all the monsters that threatened to pull her back and permanently keep her in their world. He offered his help so many times before, and out of concern for his safety, she always declined. There was seemingly no end to their respective nightmares. She was not afraid of the literal and figurative monsters that chased her, but what was she so afraid of?
Was this how Leon felt each time she left?
She went to the bathroom and took a shower. Her body was covered with marks both old and new from Leon's hands and mouth. She sometimes thought of growing her hair out considering how much Leon loved leaving marks on her neck, and there were only so much turtleneck jumpers she owned, but a short hairstyle really was much more convenient.
She stepped out of the shower, did her morning skincare routine on Leon's bathroom sink, and dressed, ready to leave.
But did she have to? She didn't have a job as of the moment. No one owned her right now, no one but herself—no one but Leon.
So she stayed. She tidied up his place, washed his—their—clothes, changed the sheets, filled his fridge and cupboard with non-perishables, and checked the condition of the house plants he kept. She milled around the flat that she knew better than her own, thinking how domestic everything was and if this was what normal people's lives looked like. She waited for him to come home, and not knowing the exact time of his return kind of irritated her.
Was this how Leon felt while waiting for her?
She flopped down on his couch and channel-surfed while eating takeaway. Normal-people life was incredibly boring, and she itched to take on a new job. But taking on another job meant not seeing Leon for a while, and she decided just this morning that she would stay and wait for him.
After a few hours of alternating between a book and the television, she heard the door open, and along with it was Leon's shocked, "Ada?"
She placed the book she hadn't been reading on the coffee table and got up from the couch, then strode towards him and took the coat slung over his arm. "Welcome home, honey," she teased. "How was your day?"
His bewildered eyes tracked her every movement. "Ada? What are you still doing here?"
"What, you're not happy to see me?" she said in a mock-not-mock hurt tone.
"When am I not happy to see you?" His eyes, bright with something unsaid, bore into hers. "I may be a bit wary whenever I run into you at work, but I assure you, I am always happy to see you." He placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer. He asked, smile evident in his voice, "Why are you still here?"
She frowned. "I got jealous of my bra."
He snorted. "Your bra? The one that I keep on my closet door?" Leon didn't bother stifling his laughter. "You're the one who left it there."
Ada rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me." She inched closer to him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Leon ran his hand across her back, and she said, "It taunted me, like it was saying that it can stay while I cannot. Well, I never did like losing, so maybe I should stay with you a little while longer."
The hands on her back stilled before enveloping her.
"How long are you planning on staying?" Leon's voice was soft, and she could feel each breath he made brush against her ear.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Enough for you to get used to the idea of waking up beside me every day."
He kissed the crown of her head, and she felt his lips curve into a wide smile. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."
She pulled away slightly so she could look at his face.
His smile was threatening to break his face in half, and she couldn't help but mirror it.
Baby steps, but they would get there. Someday.
A/N: this was supposed to be one hundred per cent fluff but some, ah, pre-sexy tiemz managed to sneak in haha
ANYWAY that bra thing, as well as a couple of other things, was from "101 Most Romantic/Passionate/Sweet Things To Do For Your Girlfriend/Boyfriend." why do i know of this list? it's a bit of a long story, but the tl;dr version is fifteen-year-old me thought they made nice fic prompts hahaha