FEBRUARY PROMPT: ROSES/CONFESSION/ONE HELLUVA FIRST DATE/LETTERS/ROMEO & JULIET/FORCED SEPARATION
OPTIONAL GENRE/THEMES: FANTASY/ROMANCE/TRAGEDY
Synopsis: It's a titbit that unveils the downfall of the two people. The internal death will shape their affinity in the future. And they didn't even know it.
#Not Beta Read #Post-Resident Evil: Darkside Chronicles #Post-Operation Javier #Pre-Resident Evil 4
Note: This is sort of Romeo & Juliet theme. I... not fully say it is, cause no way in hell I'm going kill two of my favorite characters. My little heart cannot handle that. Sorry.
Scene 1: Amalgam
An aggravated guttural grunt escaped from Leon's mouth the moment the car he was in abruptly ceased to move as it rudely awakened him. He was found dozing at the back of the cab that was sauntering in the midnight through the concrete jungle of New York. He passed some bills to the cabbie groggily. The cab scurried away to its next client as soon as he proceeded to exit the vehicle. His soiled combat boot soaked wet in the water puddle he landed into, ebbing away the sand that clung on its sole from his recent mission.
He could attest that New York was indeed the city that never sleep. When the cab chose to glide through the city, Leon's face was bathed with a myriad of neon lights coming from the buildings whether from the roadside or up afar. The driver wanted to amuse him with his city and Leon did not take it well. At some point, it irritated him. A lot of things irritated him these days. He should have taken the direct flight to La Guardia instead of Newark but for the sake of being discreet, he chose the latter. One thing that he wanted to keep for himself was her. The government could get all they wanted out of him for all he cared. If he was unwilling, they still had him. But not her.
Considering the place that he standing right now was part of a bustling neighborhood, he could say that Claire's apartment was located somewhere a lot quieter than the vibrant downtown Flushing. A surprisingly cold weather accompanied by a strong petrichor emanated the damp air indicating heavy downfall during the day. His duffle bag was slung on one shoulder with his hand gripping the strap while the other hand took refuge from the cold inside the side pocket of his jacket as he looked up at the two-story apartment building in front of him. He recognized the Ford Explorer that was parked on the roadside; the same car that he saw she drove around campus and the same car she took to visit him while he was in boot camp. Unmistakenly, this was her place.
The curtain of the glass sliding door of her balcony failed to blind the light that coming from inside as it dispersed outside the apartment unit. The occupant of that unit was still awake. The balcony was empty in comparison to the next door which was full of lively plants. Beyond any doubt, it was hers since she mentioned in her email that her neighbors made her balcony look like an arid land in comparison to theirs.
He hoped that she was not with a company. Selfishly so, he decided to call her and let her know his presence. Her refusal to believe that he was in fact in front of her home evoked him a playful grin. He moved away from the sidewalk advancing closer to the building upon seeing her push her body out to the balcony to search for him. He could hear her smile through the phone; the moment after he made himself visible near the balcony under the dimmed light from the post lamp.
Immediately right after she buzzed him in, he made his way to her unit with his sore ankle and batted body. The trudging sound of his steps climbing the wooden staircase sounded ominous. Yet, he could not be bothered if her neighbors were upset by it. He just wanted to get to her, to see her; this was what the late-night visit was all about in the first place. Whereas he was supposedly flying back to D.C., his route was diverted to New York.
His heart swelled with warmth because she was as elated much as he was when she greeted him at the door. The expression she usually wore every time he was around. Somehow, he felt proud that he made her happy. The other of him was bunched up with pride because he knew even on what time he wanted to come to see her, she would always welcome him with open arms.
They sit on the love seat, next to each other. He looked around the studio apartment, it was rather small. Much smaller than his rented apartment in government housing in D.C. At least he had a bedroom. It did suit the current image of Claire who just graduated last year and was still green working in the big city.
The interior was nothing special, it was more practical and minimalistic. The place was barren of any sort of entertainment considering it was missing a T.V. or a cassette player. The study desk situated ahead of her bed was crowded with stacks of papers, piles of files, and rows of books so thick as a brick. He guessed she must haul all the books from her time in college. A notice board hung on the wall next to the desk was decorated with papers of articles and pictures; with strings that connected one pin to another.
His eyes landed on the small dining table, which was scattered with papers and a running laptop indicating she was indeed awake. Making it worse, she was doing work instead of getting rested. This place was not less than to be called home, rather it was an extension of her office. He grimaced over to the whole scene. Leon realized Claire was nowhere different from him. They both have surrendered their life to this whole biohazard fuckery more than they expected.
"Done snooping?"
He sheepishly lowered his eyes to the floor and inwardly smiled at his rude behavior. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. It's messy anyway. Although, I managed to dump all the dirty laundry in the washer on your way up."
Small burps of laughter from Leon upon hearing Claire's admission. "How are you, Claire?"
"I'm good. Now no more classes. Just working."
"Did I disturb you?"
"No, no. I was going through some reports." She smiled thinly.
"At midnight?"
"What to do...I married to the job."
"Yeah."
Pressing his lips, he stared at her beautiful eyes. However, her sunken eyes telltale indicator that she did not procure enough sleep and rest that she needed.
"How about you? How are you?"
"I'm..." His sharp intake could be heard clearly by Claire who fully faced him.
Her eyes attentively studied his expression; a slow, comprehending smile flitted across her mouth, "You come straight from your mission?"
And he answered with a melancholic nod. A year passed since South America and he has been deployed from one mission to another non-stop. The government saw how effective he was, that they used him in his full capacity. Like automated machines, with no care or concern. Dare to say he became the slave for them. Rumors of a mole inside their operation team, resulted in suspicion snaking in which led to a constant observation between them. He knew he was spiraling down; his new partner was the one to bring it forward. He was heedless tonight, he hoped Robert Dekker kept his promise of providing him a window to regain his sanity. He had to see her.
"Are you hungry? I can fix you something, all I have is takeout Chinese." Claire was already on her feet, about to head to the kitchen.
"Claire-," His call was sullen and numbing, beginning to tweak concern in her; unbeknownst to him. "No need. I don't like Chinese."
"Hurm..." She looked at him with utmost endearing gaze.
It was lifeless shook his head; Leon responded this time. "Don't feel like eating either."
A lump formed in her throat as Claire came sitting again at her previous seat. Her brain was running void on how to delegate him. However, she noticed questions boxed him into impassiveness. Questions seemed to burden him. If she had to wait for him to come forward to her, then she would wait.
"How about you clean up first before turning in the night?"
It was no question; Claire helped Leon and ushered him to the bathroom. His acquiescent behavior relaxed her a little. They were by the small bathroom door, right after Claire switched on the light he was drawn by the sight of a bathtub. Nothing unusual but a sudden image of him being hugged in warmth intrigued him. His thought was voiced out in a fleeting second.
"A bath-" His remark was filled with ambiguity, the nuance between words and timbre.
A glint of cheer lit in her eyes. It was a request, not a question. It was his sign of interest to converse, therefore she corresponded with ardor.
"You wanna a bath. Sure."
This was the little thing that he liked about Claire Redfield. She had the knack to know what he felt and how he felt. She walked past him into the room further and twisted the faucets. The water gushed out gradually filling the tub as the steam started to dance in the air. He, on the other hand, stopped by the sink counter and propped his duffle bag there watching her. A slight smile bunched on his lips; seeing her made his chest feel lighter again.
She looked back at him with cautious evaluation, "Do you need help with your clothes?"
The worst injury that he had right now was his broken wrist. Besides the bruises and scrapes, he still could manage to get out of his clothes regardless of difficulties. A smirk played around the edges of his mouth; he wanted to test the water.
"If you can."
To his surprise, she advanced towards him and said, "Let me help."
An offer that he could not decline. Under the shadow of the cap, looking down he met her stare.
"Is this a new look?"
"Do you like it?"
"I wouldn't say it bad."
She removed the cap that donned his head and placed it on the counter. His neck was sprinkled with sand that caked between his hair and the fabrics.
"Did you roll in the sand?"
"Not just rolled, ate some of it."
A ripple of laughter went through them, although it was short-lived. Leon tried his best to suppress the wave of violent coughs that followed. He braced one hand on the counter while the other cradled his chest.
He explained in a shaky voice, "Got shot to the chest. Lucky got my plate."
"Jesus Christ.", said Claire apologetically.
"Hurt like a bitch.", added Leon as the coughing fit subsided.
She smoothly disrobed his jacket however, put a little effort when helping him to free himself from his skin-tight shirt. Her face became etched with sadness the moment her cerulean orbs spotted the angry bruises marring across his chest. Her lower lip was the victim of her abuse to cope with her overwhelmed emotion. Unconsciously, she ran her dainty fingers on the exposed flesh of his wounded pectoral.
She said his name brokenly, "Oh Leon..."
Leon bit down the feathery sensation she endowed. His hands slacked on his sides as his body stood still. After regulating breaths, he whispered. "Not that serious, just a bruise."
A white lie for her easement. But she surprised him with her broad spectrum of knowledge in mission aftercare.
"Did you get x-rayed?"
"Yes. All are in the right place."
"That's good to hear."
Claire mumbled at the same time her hands were working on his belt which got his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Looking down without uttering any words, he let her continue with the button of his pants. A crooked puckish grin started to form on his face as her hand unzipped the zipper. All kept to an abrupt stop assuming she realized what she was doing. Looking up, she met his roaming eyes with the playful grin still frozen on his face.
"Why stop, babe? Keep going.", said Leon hotly as his breath fanned her cheeks.
"Nice try, hotshot.", replied Claire, managing to keep her cool and denying his coquettish demeanor.
"Ah...Dang it."
Claire shifted her attention to what was behind her when the water came raining down from the edge of the tub. Mindlessly, she whirled back to take her leave but was awestruck when she was feasted with the sight of Leon Kennedy in a brief boxer only. She had seen Leon shirtless before, back in that dangly motel bathroom when she tended his wound. She was well aware of his lean body, however admittedly, 6 years on the job had given the man some changes in his bodily features. His physique was more honed and muscular now which caught Claire in a predicament between wanting to admire and not to look.
"Like what you see?"
This time it got her sought-after attention. He smiled triumphantly as he witnessed her prized reaction in clear view under the bright light of the bathroom lamp.
Her face turned scarlet as she tried to sort out whatever she had left in her brain. Her face was flaming hot, not just by the steam from the hot water that danced in the thickest air in the small bathroom. Too embarrassed to return his stare, her shoulder brushed his naked chest when she marched her way out. She shyly barked her order with eyes glued to the floor, before shutting the door closed.
"For the love of God, do not sleep in the tub."
Scene 2: Advertence
Goddammit! He fell asleep in the tub.
It had been 30 minutes; the stillness was all she collected. Her focus on the reports was lost after 10 minutes since she exited the bathroom. Every line that she reviewed needed to be read two times at least in order to grasp what the writer trying to convey. When it passed 20 minutes, she was pacing the room, contemplating to seek news from the other side. At some point, she even placed her ear by the door just to snoop on any form of sign or sound that might ease her worry self. When passed the mark of 30 minutes sharp, she decided to intrude whether he liked it or not.
After a couple of knocks, her head slowly peeked between the small gap in the door and she queried. "Leon?"
"Hurm...um."
Lazily he turned his head to face her. A slow smile spread across his flushed face. His long body was doing its best to fit into the dinky bathtub that ob was too small for him. Whilst he managed to submerge a good portion of his chest, his shoulder was exposed to the air and so were his jutted-out knees. Bruises marred on both elbows and knees, and his arms were covered with fine scrapes. Now, she saw what his profession had done to him, forget about physical because it was deceiving. Lying there with a wounded body, he looked so vulnerable, feeble, and impuissant. It was an intimation of relinquishing himself to her, not just because of his copious trust in her, but also deep affection for her.
"I told you not to sleep in the tub."
"I didn't."
His eyes stayed on her as she made her way to him. Claire sat on the closed-lid toilet bowl close next to the tub, looking down longingly at him with softness and tranquillity that balm Leon's tormenting heart.
"You didn't wash your hair."
"I didn't get the chance to ask since you bolted out the door."
She chuckled, "You can just holler."
"Claire." He gave her a charming toothy grin and added, "Can you help me clean my hair?"
"Alright."
Her lips curved in a faint smile; she shook her head enlivened by his jesting query.
When she snagged the shampoo from the rack, Claire noticed his boxer brief was by the rest of his dirty clothes. The water sloshed as Leon pushed himself to a sitting position, his knee submerged under the water. The realization that he was buck naked in the tub, caused her to dig her nails into the plastic bottle. The water was soapy and adorned with shallow bubbles so she murmured her gratitude quietly for not having to encounter another embarrassing moment with his bold bodily spectacle. And hope that he would not make any sudden move; cause it definitely would make his other-self known.
Leon leaned his head out to the side of the tub as Claire brought the adjustable shower arm to him. His eyes automatically fluttered close when she ran her hand through his locks. The warm water washed away the dirt and sand that caked in his hair to the drain. The moment she brought both soapy hands to massage his head, he elicited a small moan that set Claire abashed.
"You're very talented with your hand.", said Leon candidly.
She cleared her throat, "Thank you."
He turned slightly at her as her hand stopped working. A knowing smile plastered on his face while she tilted her head pretending not to know what he on about. A scintillating chuckle slipped out from him as she continued washing his hair. Her cheeks rose demurely as a defined wrinkle ran from the sides of her nose to the corners of their mouth. She let him celebrate her awkward disposition. If this raillery furnished him with solace, then she let him have it.
Done rinsing his hair, she patted the excess water with the towel and asked, "What time do you need to leave tomorrow?"
"I have to be at the airport by 9."
"Breakfast with me? I got eggs."
"Yumm...sound delicious." He acceded to her request with a nod.
"You got spare for tonight yeah? I gonna put all the dirty clothes in the washer."
"What if I don't?"
"I guess I have to fit you with one of my nightgowns."
"The one like you're wearing? I won't mind. I think I gonna look fabulous in it."
He did not expect someone like Claire would don a cotton white nightgown during her nighttime. He pictured her to be wearing something like a baby t-shirt and flannel pants, or maybe just plain pajamas. It was a new sight of her, so demure and ladylike; he loved this. Not the fact that he was fond of the style but the fact that he got to see them, intimately.
"Good God. You are ridiculous.
"I think that's why you love me."
"Okay, that's your queue. You need to wrap your tub time. It's been more than 30 minutes."
There was no denying coming from her and he engraved that moment in his mind. His feverish stare lingered on her, a winning smile on his face.
"Okay."
Meeting his eyes, she announced her leave. "I'll be outside. Called me if you need something."
He gifted her a wink which got her shaking her head bracing his relentless antics as she collected all his dirty clothes by the sink counter.
Scene 3: Affliction
"You not going to bed?"
"You sleep. I need to finish reviewing this report."
His stare at her small backside was mixed with concern and uneasiness. Leon retained silence watching her from the bed. His mind sailed deep with the thought of her. Upon her arrival from Antarctica, he made time to contact her. Ready to offer her succor if she needed it. Alas, it was drowned in by her undertow of reticence. He could see clearly her masking of happening there under that cheery voice and upbeat self. In the end, he had to seek the BSAA reports to inform himself what actually happened in her journey to the South Pole.
Not until the following year, did all crumble down when he drove her to her brother's house after spending the evening with Sherry a day before Christmas. That night, midway on his brother's driveway, under the full moon and frigid snow, tears fell as she retold how much guilt she had to let Steve Burnside die and the growing compunction unable to do anything. She felt hopeless, as a student since it allowed her to do so little in the war eradicating bioterrorism. Her announcement of her willingness to leave college did not surprise him. He had the feeling that she would reveal it to him sooner or later.
With gentleness and compassion, he consoled her and talked her through. He joked that if they were a team, he the brawn and she the brain. They complete each other. So, she had to stay for college because she was the brain. And she laughed. He got her laugh that night. Overjoyed by his small victory, although his heart was stung with bitterness knowing that she was crying for another man. He knew what it was like to have someone save you and die for you. He wondered; did she have something the same as he had with Ada Wong? Or was it something more? The thought got him groaning in resentment, his chest filled with unsettlement and discomfort.
After a while, as if like she had another eye attached at the back of her head, she said. "Stop staring at my head and go to sleep."
"Come on. Can you see, I inviting you to come sleep with me?"
In slow motion, she swiveled her body, facing him with a vertical wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows.
"Oops...that came out wrong. Let me rephrase, I invited you to come to bed and go to sleep."
"My, my, my. Where is this confidence coming from?"
"From nowhere. I thought we passed being strangers."
"Yes, we're. But, is this what normal friends do?"
"So, you wanna be more than friend?"
She was struck in disbelief at how laidback he spoke about it. As if it was a joke and not any serious at all. Pervaded with his ambiguity, she decided not to take heed of the matter and keep quiet. Claire pouted, as Leon grinned. And she sauntered toward the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight and she sat on the bedspread with her back resting on the headboard and leg extended and crossed. She still got the report booklet, with a pencil on the righthand for scribbles.
"Happy?"
"Very." She let out an amiable laugh when she heard his short reply.
"New case?"
"Humm..." She nodded, eyes still on the report.
"Care to share?"
"It's the government. We have suspicion, but got no proof.", said Claire vaguely.
"About me?" Immediately her eyes veered to him. Now she noticed that he was lying on his right side fully looking at her.
"Why do you think it about you?"
He pressed his lips together and averted his gaze from her.
"No, it's not you." When Leon remained quiet, Claire continued, "Something happened?"
"There's talks."
"About?"
"Leaks. Everyone watching over everyone's shoulder.", mumbled Leon as his eyes threatened to close.
"Does it mean you're being here makes you suspicious?"
His half-lidded eyes were fully open again. A sly grin on Leon's face as he cited his explanation to Claire which got her to roll her eyes bewildered.
"I told them I gonna be with a girl."
The truth was he did not tell them anything, he just bailed. Their conversation about their work was less descriptive. That was the only way they could communicate about work without causing either of them harm. Mostly causing her harm. He knew that his line of work and hers did not meet eye in eye. Even though their aim was aligned, their procedural approaches were different. Their backers were on two different sides. One always challenged the other. And it began to concern him since his patronage over the affairs was lacking in such many ways.
"You do investigations now?"
"TerraSave's investigation units are still new. They work with skeleton teams. I offered the help."
The last he checked she was in charge of monitoring regulations for drugs; more paperwork and meetings. Her job description must expanded due to the growth of biohazard threats. Her playing detective did not sit him well.
"You work too much Claire."
"Look who talking now?" With raised eyebrows, Claire retorted condescendingly.
He groaned at Claire's remark. "Point taken. But, our job gonna kill us if we're not careful."
Claire leaned down toward him; her right hand cupped his face. Lovingly she spelled it out for him, "Then...you and I...need to promise...to be careful."
The pad of her thumb felt the roughness of the shallow scrape that embellished the high bone of his cheek. Her gentle voice lulled him from wakefulness to unconsciousness.
"You need to sleep. Take a rest."
Leon snagged the pillow under his head, getting comfortable as he ambled to the awaited dreamland. Claire hung about by his side for a good 10 minutes before returning back to the messy dining table and continuing the work where she left off earlier. The night picked up its pace with the soft sound of Claire typing under the only light coming from the kitchen area.
With a violent jerk and huffing air, Leon shot up from his lying position completely awakened from his restless sleep. His fingers were digging into his palm, gripping the bedspread that was covering him like his life depended on it. While his other hand cocked a Glock-19 that he accidentally grabbed from under the pillow. This was Claire's because he remembered his P226 was still left in the holster by his duffle bag. She had forgotten to mention to him her secret -not so serious- sleeping habit. Leon hastily thumbed the safety switch that he automatically released when he got it in hand. Checking the chamber, as expected it was loaded.
Jesus Christ.
The back of his mind flashed with the recent memory of his duel with 4-legged B.O.W. monsters that got into his dream. He leaned back against the headboard, the heel of his palms pressed on his tired eyes, trying to expunge the heaviness nestling in his darkened heart. He sighed; his inner self destitute of consolation. The clock by the bedside displayed the current time, it would not be long before the sun came up and postulated its reign starting this early morning.
The sight of a hunching body by the dining table, Claire pillowed with her arms on top of the piles of papers and laptop slumbering what remained of the nightfall. He shook his head in regret for letting her fall asleep on by table. He set his foot on the floor and automatically flinched off the cold surface. His short excursion toward her was in guarded steps. He then shook her shoulder; light and endearing, his voice was above from whisper as he called her name.
"Claire."
She only stirred weakly from her deep slumber, murmuring her rebellious objection in response to his rude disturbance. Leaning forward, he positioned himself by her left side ready to hold her body weight. From the side, he had one arm enveloped her back while the other slotted under the back of her knee. Throbbing back and constricted chest be damned, he heaved her with all his might. Stood still, he adjusted his holding for his dear life. If it was not for his wounded body, this would be trouble-free. Thanking God, he regarded her as still caught in her dawn of dreamland. Her soft breath tickled the bare skin of the crook of his neck. Catching a glimpse at her, her palatable lips a mere inches away from him. He could kiss her but he tried not to rob her memories. If he dared to kiss her, he would do so when she was fully aware of him doing it.
Mustering his strength to carry out his wants, therefore he padded his steps lightly to the bed. Gently he laid her down on the soft mattress leading her to let out a soft whimper acknowledging the comfort she received now in comparison to before. He tucked her small body in under the bedspread that was emanating his scent would later be mixed with hers also. His eyes tensed together in a vague imitation of concern. It was evidence that she was having trouble sleeping, her eyes were dark and weary. He did spot the sleeping pills tube by the sink counter in the bathroom. It gladdens his heart that she sought a professional to deal with her trouble.
He too had taken effect of the horror that engendered by biohazard terrorism. In contrast to her, he sought comfort from alcohol, which began to concern him in these growing days. He felt himself smaller and more cowardly to Claire because he refused to open up about his demons to others. He wondered how Claire would react to what he did to himself. Probably, she would lash anger and disappointment since how much she despised any association with alcoholism. He did not blame her; due to alcoholism, in the blink of an eye, her parent was taken from her. He was well aware, but why he did do it anyway? Did he do it just to seek her attention? He was not sure, but if it was true then there was more reason for Claire to be livid at him.
Sitting on the edge of the bed next to her, he carefully freed her hair from the loose ponytail. Unconsciously crowding her, his finger swept the strings of hairs that annoyingly obstructed her beautiful face. His hand hovered, his fingers traced her jawline. When the thought that he could not have her come invading his head, a great pang gutted his heart. His expression turned icy and dark as he balled his palm in frustration. Tears welled in his eyes, he inhaled the air sharply and removed himself from the bed carefully without waking her. He had to move away, break away from this. He went to his duffle bag, he intended to leave. Yet then came to a halt upon remembering his promise to her to stay for the morning. They promise to have a morning together. Strings of curses were muttered under his breath; he was caught in the tide of conflicting feelings. He could not go. His devoted heart would not do that to her.
Scene 4: Abandonment
Leon spent the rest of the hour sitting outside on the balcony, nursing his lamented self with packs of cigarettes. Usually, he turned to nicotine when alcohol was not feasible for him. He did not want to be shitfaced when they parted. The horizon started to change shades when Claire roused from her transient slumber. Their promised morning was brief and filled with a few words. He was certain that she could smell the acridity of cigarettes on him, even his teeth were brushed and his mouth was doused with the mouthwash. Nonetheless, she said nothing and offered him her morning radiant smile.
They sit across eating their simple breakfast of scrambled eggs. Even bacon was out of the menu. Claire's fridge was no different than his, absence with fresh groceries. Only had a half dozen eggs and a week old of opened orange juice. It could be worse considering he got only bottles of beer packed in his compacted refrigerator.
"Finish your report?", asked Leon, trying to start a conversation.
She timidly nodded, "You didn't snoop?"
"Privacy should be respected."
"Thank you."
"Although, can I still ask you to be...how to say this?" His head tilted upwards; his index finger was tapping on the chin. "Cautious?"
She snickered watching him acting inquisitive, alas her voice was fortified when she answered him. "I can take care of myself. Stop treating me like a kid."
"I cannot." The lingering smiles on her face died as he conceded his words, "Stop treating me like a kid."
She put down his fork and folded his arms against her chest. Her eyes were zeroed on his. She leaned back on the dining chair; a rough exhalation escaped from her to express herself that she was in exasperation.
"Well, I don't need another person to tiptoe every action I take. I already have my brother."
"Maybe you need another. You never know."
A direct steady blue regard from deep-set eyes wielding over hers. Her annoyance was doubled by the look of how trained he was. Calm and collected, the mask that he always had when he dealt with others. Claire thought she had become one of the others. When their stillness was interrupted by Leon's phone, she took that moment to duck her head to focus back on her food in order to shield her expression. She did not want her emotions to be examined by him like he always did during cross-questioning others.
He reluctantly answered, "Yeah."
Leon's gaze danced over her throughout the whole phone conversation. Being self-conscious, the food did not interest her anymore as Claire averted her eyes to view outside through the sliding door.
"Got it. I'm on my way."
He ended the call with harsh disapproving grunts. He shoved the rest of his breakfast and chugged the orange juice clean from the glass.
"I have to go."
"Oh okay."
Immediately she sprung to her feet, mirroring his actions. Despite their brief heated exchange, she still wanted to see him out. She did not know when he would drop by again. She followed behind him quietly as they exited the building. There were words at the tip of her mouth, she was stuttering to say her gratitude for his visitation. Meanwhile, Leon was battling with himself. Oh, he wished to stay with her. Even just for a fleeting moment. However, if he did that his feelings lingered and this parting would be inevitably difficult.
Is this how you felt when you had to leave me 4 years ago?
Leon was raging war now. His presumption was his slight instigation just now would make things easier, but her adherence toward him set him in amazement. He underestimated her and the bond that they forged years ago; was indeed well grounded as it was. One part of him shot down any hope while the other part did not want to hear her goodbye because of his hope that this would not be the last time he met her.
"Goodbye Claire."
There were no kisses, no hugs, no handshakes. Leon quickly got into the cab without waiting for her farewell. Claire stood on the sidewalk, astonished and suppressed. Currently, the goodbye that he proffered felt more than just words. It felt like it was his motion on what to come in between them in the near future. She tried to brave the prospect of not seeing him again, but it was too much to bear for her fragile heart. Emotion washed over Claire, the tears inside her eyelids that she had been holding cascaded onto her cheeks as she watched the cab escorting Leon further away and away from her.
Under abysmal circumstances they were on two different sides, that would clash in every part of their way. One fighter and one a rescuer. This was the beginning of the tragic fall of two innocent souls as they succumbed to the callous corrupted world.
