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Chris knew he shouldn’t be there, waiting in the parking lot, contemplating whether to leave or stay.
It had been months, months of nothing but silence coming from Leon’s direction. No contact, no nothing, every single message either left on read with a dry response that led to nothing but a cul-de-sac. Claire was worried, always complaining to Chris about how he’s always busy.
“To be honest, I feel like he isn’t really telling the truth…” She’d sighed, exhaustion creeping through her features in a way that pained Chris. “Knowing Leon, he probably just needs some space.” She had said. “There are times where he just doesn’t want to talk… you know? So he just kind of… ignores everyone. Just like that.”
“Just like that?” Chris had asked.
“Just like that, yeah. No warning. He does that a lot.”
“Shouldn’t that be concerning?”
“I mean… it gets concerning at some point.”
Chris often thought about that interaction. It had happened some time ago, when things weren’t as bad as they were now. It was until later that he had enough of hearing these concerns that kept eating his sister from the inside out, that he decided he’d search for Leon himself.
Chris began his searching by calling the agent via his phone. To no surprise, he was left on voicemail, the same prerecorded message repeating after each failed attempts, only filling him up with a weird sense of humiliation. Then he decided he’d ask Claire himself for some advice and perhaps help. She had immediately accepted, despite the fact that she was currently abroad. They had tried to reach out in various ways. None seemed to work. Until Claire suddenly exclaimed through the phone, “His handler!”
She was right. His handler, which Claire said Leon had mentioned a few times before, was probably the only one to know his current location.
He’d asked Ingrid Hunnigan, after hours spent on trying to find her contact info, where he could’ve disappeared, and each time was left with the same answer, “confidential”. Though even the way she said it felt reluctant, like she knew doing this was useless, and that it’d end badly if she didn’t give in. Eventually, after a few more persistent tries, she gave up with a sigh that crackled through the phone.
An address was all he’d been given, along with a warning.
“If he wanted to be found, he would’ve reached out.” Chris had remembered her saying. His grip around the wheel tightened as his face scrunched up in something that looked like concern.
That was the problem, he thought, Leon never reached out. Chris knew he shouldn’t be there, waiting in this parking lot and contemplating whether to let someone burn themselves out to death or do something about it. He rubbed his face with a hand, a long sigh escaping his lips. Sure, they didn’t see each other much, aside from those awkward hangouts at underground bars and those collaborative meetings with the D.S.O. that seemed forced, but Chris had no reason to be this difficult. His ride might’ve been short, considering the fact that he was currently staying in D.C. for a few days, but that didn’t mean he could turn back. Who knew what Leon was on at the moment? He could be in danger for all he knows.
Chris stepped out of the car, or truck, something between these two. The door clicked behind him as he made sure it was locked, pressing the button on his car key with a thumb large enough to hide the tiny object that sat between his fingers. He huffed, remembering how Claire used to tell him his hands resembled those of an ogre. Stupid joke, he thought.
Chris’ feet subconsciously led him towards the elevator, as if he’d done this before in another life— in a life where he and Leon were close enough to give each other visits here and there without having to sit through uncomfortable silences. He checked his phone trice just to make sure he was pressing the right button, while also doing his best to ignore the loud thumping that resonated through his chest. The elevator then began its journey towards the top of the building, leaving Chris to listen to the dings that rung after each floor. He checked himself out in the mirror while he waited, tracing his eye bags with his gaze. Chris wondered if Leon looked just as tired as him, if he could even hold himself upright without stumbling over, or if he could think properly without his mind fuzzing up into a thick fog.
Eventually the doors slid opened and Chris turned around to walk out of the elevator. The hallway he stepped in contrasted with the old screeching of the elevator doors. It looked brand new and Chris could remember Hunnigan mentioning the top floors being reserved by the D.S.O.
His thoughts were immediately broken up by the realisation that he was just a few steps away from seeing the man he hadn’t heard from in months. Theories and ideas on how Leon might look and sound like hit him like a truck. While Chris might’ve seemed completely indifferent on the outside, his mind was erupting with regret and plenty of other feelings he couldn’t handle. It felt weird for Chris to be the one to check up on him… and the idea of meeting Leon after a long period of no contact didn’t feel so good. Yet here he was standing in front of the door, mentally slapping himself with how stupid that idea was. He should’ve asked Claire to find someone else to check up on him… someone qualified enough to do the job and who knew what kind of things they were getting themselves into. Yet his sister kept insisting that it was a good idea, and that he could do it. She said that they had something in common, and that it could help, yet she never specified what exactly.
His hands curled into fits, nails digging into his calloused palms before he let the tension go. He shook his head, warming himself up as if he were about to run a marathon, and knocked on the door in three swift blows.
No one answered. Chris cursed himself out. At this hour Leon was either asleep, or out somewhere else. In hopes of getting at least something, his fist met the door one more time. Once again, nothing.
Chris sighed. That was expected, he thought. Leon was a busy man after all, often out on missions that required his aid— which were probably the reason for his sudden disappearances.
Slowly, his feet turned, angling his body towards the elevator on the other side of the building. Yes, he thought, that was probably right. Hunnigan had been very subtle with giving out Leon’s location, she hadn’t mentioned anything about him being there or not. Chris had probably chosen the wrong night. That was it.
His shoulder tensed with the sharp sound of glass breaking. Immediately, his head snapped to the door. The sound came from behind, right? He approached the entrance, knocking once more.
“Leon? You in there?” He said as he stuck his ear on the door, trying to find any other sign of life. There was a lot of shuffling, something hitting a wall along with the sound of a muffled curse. A drawer opened, then another one. Unsteady feet approached the front door before turning back, as if the person wasn’t sure what direction they were going. The sound of a small click caught his attention. A weapon. Was someone else in there!?
Chris immediately stepped away from the door, which opened the second he had done so.
On the other side, stood a trembling gun, pointed directly at Chris, who was already in position, ready to fight whoever was holding it. His hands immediately pushed the gun’s direction away from him, before he recognised the yielder’s face.
“Leon.”
Chris simply stared. Leon looked horrible, worse than he had actually expected. His hair looked greasy and disheveled, as if it had not been taken care of in days, which was quite unusual for him. His clothes laid wrinkled on his body, along with a stain somewhere around the side of his shirt. His eyes were hollow and bloodshot from… oh god… the smell of alcohol hit his nose after a moment. The apartment behind him felt humid and reeked with whiskey and other hard liquors. Christ, how long had he been staying in a place like this? He thought— and just how long could he have been left alone before getting an overdose…
Leon’s expression faltered as he finally recognised the man in front of him, pushing his hands away from the man’s grasp and lowering the weapon he had in hand.
He stared back, his lips slightly parted in shock. “How…” He mumbled in a slur, bringing his free hand to his face and rubbing it before looking back at Chris.
They stayed there for some time, each taking in the person that stood right in front of their eyes. Chris could somewhat see Leon’s struggle to focus. Before the two could even blurt out another word, Chris watched as Leon’s face changed into some twisted expression. He didn’t have the time to react, before the agent’s body lunged forward, a hand catching the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself.
“Oh— fuck—“ Chris yelped as his boots came to ruin under whatever were the contents of Leon’s stomach. He quickly caught the man’s body as his knees buckled under him, the gun falling on the ground with the motion. His body was limp, his head falling between his arms as Chris held him by the pits.
“What the hell just happened.”
***
Leon was now laid down on the bed, washed away from the previous events that had happened just an hour before. Chris’ boots were clean, set on the empty shoe rack that occupied most of the entrance’s space, which had also been cleaned up. Never had he expected this to happen, yet it was so quick he barely had the time to even react before Leon was already lying sick in his arms, emptying his stomach on his shoes.
It was… weird, to say the least, watching him sleep off the booze, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead with a face drooping in exhaustion. He observed as the mattress dipped under his weight, despite the lingering concern that Chris felt with how light Leon was in his arms. He was changed to clothes found somewhere deep into the closet— a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt that felt clean enough under his touch and smell. The bedroom’s windows were opened up, letting in the fresh night breeze drift through the room. Chris hadn’t bothered actually going further into the apartment aside from the bedroom and the kitchen to grab a tall glass of water. He didn’t want to see the mess that it might’ve become, even though this was the first time he’d even set a foot in here.
Instead, he sat on the other edge of the bed, hands clasped together in a thoughtful manner. Patiently, he waited for Leon to wake up.
Each minute passed by and the rhythmic tapping of Chris’ fingers began to turn frantic. His thoughts kept turning back and forth to the passed out man just behind him.
Chris wondered what was actually happening in this head of his. What was causing all of this. What brought him to this. He sighed. With all the experiences he must’ve gone through, most of them only consisting of B.O.W.s and deaths, there was no doubt these missions were the causes of his misery. In a line of work like his, there are things you can never forget. So naturally… Leon might’ve turned to the alcohol as a way to escape these memories… Chris knew this type of copping all too well. He often did the same, relapsing on cigarettes to help settle his mind. Too bad he had left them in his car, he would’ve taken one right away…
He shifted on the bed, trying to turn and see Leon’s current state. Unfortunately the movement woke Leon in a snap, whose eyes had gotten wide open from his awakening. He looked disoriented as his mind slowly came to its senses, his hands reaching out for his head and his expression scrunching itself in pain. Leon squeezed his eyes shut, mumbling a curse under his breath before turning to lay on the other side of the bed. Instead of meeting the sight of cold and empty sheets, what Leon saw was a wide back and a pair of eyes watching over a shoulder.
His body immediately tensed up as he sat up, reaching for something under his pillow.
“Shit—“ He cursed once the tip of his fingers didn’t meet the cold metal of his pistol, which Chris had promptly taken away after the incident at the front door. Leon threw his legs over the bed, holding the nearby wall for support. His eyes narrowed towards the “mysterious” figure who was now standing up a few feet from him.
“Leon— calm down, it’s Chris.” He said, raising his hands to show that he wasn’t some kind of intruder, but actually the only guy who actually came to check on him. Even though Leon was drunk, Chris knew better than trying to put up a fight with him.
“Chris…?” He said, his voice barely comprehensible due to all the liquor that ran through his veins. “What are you… what are you doing…” He paused, turning his face away as if even through the alcohol, he could still feel a sense of shame. “Here.”
“I…” Chris began, before stopping. Leon was probably in no position for reprimands on how he was ignoring everyone at the moment. He was fucking drunk out of his mind, his brain wasn’t even functioning properly. Chris could see it from the way his eyes squinted, trying to recognise the new figure in his room. “Came to check on you.” He said, eventually. “But, judging from what I’m seeing here, you might need a bit more than just a check up.”
They stood in an awkward silence for a moment. Great, exactly what Chris wanted.
“…Check up on me?” Leon repeated, his body straightening though his hand still braced the wall. “Who…” He trailed off. “Where did you… get the idea that I needed a… Check up.”
“You should know how many of us wanted to check up on you, Leon.” The agent’s expression wavered, Chris noticed, before he took a small step closer. “And I was the closest to your location.” He added, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Where’d you get my location from…“ He pushed himself off the wall, his feet dragging on the ground as if the floor was tilting back and forth.
“Leon, you might want to—“
“Don’t… tell me what to do when I’m asking questions.” Leon pointed a sluggish finger in Chris’ face, his words dragging despite the serious tone. “Where’d you get it.”
Chris sighed, his patience already running thin. “I’ll tell you later, just…”
“Where—“
“Will you sit down for a second?” He almost snapped.
“Will you tell me if I sit down!?” Leon retorted, sounding just a bit childish.
“Yes!” Chris shouted. “Yes, I’ll tell you…” He repeated, quieter, approaching Leon to guide him back to bed. His hands found the other’s arms, pulling him in a surprisingly soft touch, that still held a hint of tightness from the previous short argument. With no choice left, Leon obeyed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, reluctantly accepting the glass of water that was being pushed in his face. Chris remained standing in front of him, arms crossed in a way that expressed his annoyance.
“I got it from Hunnigan.” He said, eventually.
“I thought I told her not to share my info to anyone…” Leon mumbled, setting the glass back on the nightstand in dangerously shaking hands. “Regardless of the situation.” He added after a moment.
“Look, Claire was worried,” Chris said. “And I guess Hunnigan was too.”
Leon didn’t say anything else to that. His eyes drifted towards the wall in front of him, unfocused. Gosh… Chris thought. Never would he have imagined to see him in such a state… From what he remembered from these small meetings they had, he had never looked this bad. He sighed, stepping closer to the bed.
“You should lay down Leon.” He said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Leon pushed it away.
“Fuck off. I can do it myself.” He rolled over onto the bed, lying on his side, showing his back to Chris. “You can leave now.” His voice was muffled with the pillow he was lying on. “I don’t need your… babysitting…”
“Sure you don’t…” Chris mumbled under his breath. He headed towards the bedroom door and opened it. “You tell me if you need anything, I’ll—“
“Leave my house, Chris.”
“What?”
“Leave my fucking house.”
“Leon, I can’t do that.” Chris retorted, jaw tightening as his eyes narrowed to Leon’s figure.
“You managed to get in, right? Then you can get out.”
Chris stared at him for a moment. His position hadn’t moved. Was he being serious? He couldn’t stand straight, and once he got the help he needs he didn’t even accept it. Well, he never asked for it anyway. His gaze drifted back towards the door.
He paused for half a second, considering his options. “Okay.” Chris turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him in a soft click. He turned left in the small corridor, walking in careful steps, to not accidentally hit anything in the darkness. Instead of touching the leather of his boots, his hands found the worn out leather of the sofa as he sat down on the living-room. As stupid as this idea was, Chris wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
***
Chris’ eyes opened, the moonlight illuminating his face with a soft glow. His head was resting the back of cushions in an awkward position, his body weighing deep into the couch as blood finally circulated back through his veins. He groaned, shaking his head in hopes of waking himself up once he sat in an upright position.
“Shit…” He cursed to himself, remembering where he was and why. Leon was probably asleep by now, judging by how high the moon stood in the sky.
He pushed himself off the couch with a strong hand, approaching the glass door that led to the balcony. Chris stared at the view for a bit before turning to check on the clock on the other side of the room. The wasn’t much light, but he could still make out the shapes of the clock hand that pointed towards the three. Three a.m. it is, he thought.
A sound caught his attention just as he was about to lose himself in his thoughts. On the other side of the apartment, near the entryway, where the bathroom stood. Chris looked around him, his gaze turning left and right to check his surroundings to make sure that sound didn’t come from anywhere else.
His head snapped back towards the hallway. There, again, he heard it. The noise sounded like some broken muffled cough that didn’t seem much like a threat. Chris walked around the couch and headed for the source of the sound. He already had his theories ready— the person he was most likely to find was Leon— since… this was kind of his apartment.
He shook his head once more. The bathroom door was slightly agape, bright yellow lights slipping through the crack. He quietly pushed the door open, relief washing over him as it didn’t seem to make any sort of an old creaking sound. Inch by inch, the space became more visible. The cupboards and towels right next to the door, the shower-bathtub at the far end of the room, a wrinkled light blue shower mat, a messy sink with a few pills and cosmetics and an openable mirror that revealed Chris’ own figure lurking by the door. Leon, sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall and a hand braced against the toilet, the other gripping his head in a pained motion, hair hiding half of his face and shoulders shaking in a way that spoke volumes.
For a second, Chris was scared to approach. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Leon had said it himself, he wanted him to leave. Yet the fact that he hadn’t even noticed him already brought up concern to his chest, and his position only worsened it. Chris’ goal was to check up on him. He was probably a bit more sober now, which could either mean a good, or a bad thing. Either he’d get kicked in the face, and without the restrictions of a drunk man, or he’d finally choose to open up, considering the vulnerable moment.
He knocked on the door softly. “Hey.”
The agent’s head immediately snapped up, before looking away. “‘Thought I told you to get the fuck out.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I couldn’t leave you all alone.”
After that line, silence. They didn’t move, not for long, before Chris eventually decided to step in further. He pushed the door behind him, but not fully, leaving it slightly open. He picked up a small stool from the corner of the room and sat down on it, just a few feet away from Leon, whose head was completely turned away. Chris rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs.
“You okay?” Chris said eventually.
“…Sure.” Leon answered, sarcastically.
“Sure? You—“ He sighed, running a hand through his short hair then dragging it down his face. “Leon, I’m worried.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you? Because that, I don’t call fucking fine.”
“Call it whatever you want, I don’t give a single shit.”
“Look, Leon, you can’t just… act like all of this is nothing—“
“Shut up, Redfield!” Leon snapped, still facing away. Chris could see the way his body tensed up, the muscles of his arms tensing along with his words. He gripped a bundle of hair before letting go in a huff. “I told you. I don’t want you here.”
“Looks like you don’t want anybody here.” Chris said, unfazed.
“I’m busy. I don’t have time for everyone.”
“But you have time to drink your ass out until you piss alcohol?”
Leon scoffed, shaking his head and bringing both hands to his face. Chris thought he was about to say something, another sarcastic remark, anything to piss him off, yet nothing came out. Leon just sat there, face in hands, doing nothing in particular but breathing. Chris watched him intently, taking in every single detail that he could, from the way his breaths shuddered to the way some strands of stray hairs trembled with the tremor of his body. He wanted to approach him, sit next to him and calm him down just like he had done to many others— but how would Leon take this type affection? Would he lean into it?
“Fuck…” Leon muttered under a shaky breath with wavering words. “Get out, Chris…”
“I’m…” Chris began before cutting his sentence off. A muffled sob escaped the other’s lips.
“Fuck!” He yelped, frantically wiping his facing in hopes of blocking the tears away. Instinctively, Chris approached him, sitting down on the floor and laying a southing hand on his shoulder.
“Hey…” He said, in a tone much softer than in their previous conversation. “Hey, Leon…”
“Get out— I don’t want you to… fuck…” He grunted, leaning his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling as the tears fell down his cheeks. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying his hardest to calm down. His face managed to ease out for a moment, before it scrunched back into sadness. Again, he hid his face away. “Damn it…” Leon muttered, his voice breaking in a way that made Chris’ heart ache.
Never had he seen him this vulnerable. Leon always seemed to be the type of guy who stayed strong no matter the situation, often cracking stupid jokes even when things got serious. Seeing him so… broken made something in Chris snap. His grip on the other’s shoulder tightened.
“I’m not leaving your side, Leon.” He said, his brows furrowing as he observed the agent with an intense gaze.
Leon let out a shaky scoff. “…Whatever.” He wiped his face, though that didn’t change anything about his state, now staring back at the ground between his knees. Chris’ eyes remained on his profile. Tears clung to the agent’s eyelashes, his eyebrows trembling yet remaining in a deep frown.
“You good?”
“Do I look good…” Leon spat. “Look— I…” He began before his voice broke into a quiet breath. “I’m just…” He moved his hand in a desperate motion, trying to bring the words to leave his mouth, or so it seemed. His head turned slightly, looking at Chris who watched him with worried eyes, before his gaze fell back to the ground. “Fuck— I… you’re making me real flustered, Redfield, you know that?” Leon joked in a sad chuckle, his voice cracking around the last words.
“What’s wrong, Leon.” Chris said, removing his hand from his shoulder. Perhaps he was making him uncomfortable? Maybe that was the reason he was struggling to open up? “You… I can help you.” He paused. “Or try, at least…” Chris added after Leon gave him a weird droopy frown.
Leon’s lips pressed together, contemplating whether to speak or not. He rubbed his face with a hand, brought it to his hair and messed it up even further. His eyes found the ceiling, then moved towards the door. He let out a deep breath. “Look I’m… I’m hungover, I don’t know what I’m doing.” He ran another hand through his hair. “You’re just worrying for nothing, ‘m just… a bit overwhelmed, you know, brain all fuzzy from the liquor…” Leon began pushing himself upwards to his feet. He wobbled slightly. “You should leave.”
“Christ, Leon, how many times am I going to say this!?” Chris snapped, immediately getting up to reach for Leon’s side. He grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, standing in front of his so close that he could smell the whiskey radiating off of his body. “I’m not leaving your—“
Chris was cut off with Leon roughly shoving him away. “Do I look like I give a single fuck about whether you want to stay or not!? Get the fuck out, Redfield! I don’t need your— or actually, anyone’s help right now!”
“Oh really!?” He stepped closer. “That’s helping you? Pushing people away? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, Kennedy?”
“I know how I look, and I’ve known for longer than any of you did! I know myself, what I need, and what I don’t. I—“ Leon stepped back, turning his head away. “You can’t help me. And even if you did, it wouldn’t work.”
“What?“
“Can’t you understand— it’s a fucking cycle! It’s the same thing each time! I’ll— nobody will ever break me out of it!” He looked back at Chris with eyes full of anger, his shaking hands turning into tight fists. The other approached him once more.
“Leon, I understand what you’re saying, but…” He sighed, laying his hand back to where it was on his shoulder. He watched as Leon froze in the touch.
“Get your hands off of me.”
“No, Leon, I’m trying to help you right now.”
“Well guess what, you’re not helping—“
“Leon!” He yelled, snapping the agent out of it. “Get yourself together and listen to what I want to say!” His hands tightened around his shoulder. “You can’t keep doing this. We’re worried.”
“I get that you’re worried.” Leon said in gritted teeth, trying to push himself out Chris’ grip. “But I am telling you, I’m handling it. I don’t need you.”
“Won’t you just tell me what’s happening!?” He pressed, moving his hands to squeeze his upper arms.
“Are you deaf!?”
“Fuck! Leon—“
Leon’s face twisted into an unidentifiable expression, both hands reaching and grabbing Chris’ collar. He turned both of their bodies around and pushed Chris out of the bathroom. His back hit the opposite wall in the corridor, knocking the air out of him, making him squeeze his eyes shut.
“What the fu—“ He wheezed. That was nothing like Leon. He felt as if the person in front of was a completely different person, a stranger impersonating Leon. His eyes opened, slowly, looking at the blurry figure in front of him, that was now leaning breathless against the doorframe, much like their earlier encounter at the front door. Chris immediately straightened up.
He took a deep breath, blinking a few times. “You okay, Leon?”
Silence filled the room accompanied by their heavy breaths. Leon stared at Chris, his expression filled with shock, disbelieved by his own actions.
“Sorry, I…” He huffed. “You should be worrying about yourself, I— shit, why did I do… Fuck!” Leon’s hand slipped with the tremble of his arm holding the wall, though he fortunately caught himself.
“Hey, Leon—“
“I don’t know what’s happening to me Chris, I…” He lowered himself to the floor, resting his shoulder against the doorframe. Chris followed, dropping to his knees in front of him, his hands hovering awkwardly, not sure whether to engage or not. Seeing Leon wasn’t leaning away, he took him in his arms.
“Im just tired.” The agent finally admitted in a sob, gripping Chris’ shirt.
“Calm down…” Chris hushed.
“‘M sorry… I’m humiliating myself—“
“It’s fine.” He rubbed his back in a slow soothing motion. “It’s fine.” He repeated.
“I just…” Leon’s voice faltered, rethinking his words. His grip loosened slightly. “I…”
Chris pulled away to look at his face. His eyes were red, tears flowing down his cheeks in a heartbreaking way. It felt so foreign seeing him so vulnerable, trembling in pain instead of standing strong in his feet with a narrowed pair of blue eyes. Now these eyes were glassy and blurred by the tears that prickled his eyes, full of a sadness Chris could and could not explain at the same time.
“I’m miserable.”
Leon closed his eyes shut, rubbing his face with both hands in a grunt. “I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I just keep… fighting. And for what? For it to happen again?”
His words lingered in Chris’ head, his features visibly softening as the seconds passed. He crawled next to Leon, through the space that was left between him and the bathroom’s door. The shoulders pressed together, and Leon’s hand slipped away from his face.
“I get it, Leon. Trust me I get it.” Chris said. “But we can help you. I can help you…”
“I don’t think that’ll do much. Like I said, in the end, nothing changes.”
“We can see still try, right?” He asked, trying to repress his hopeful tone.
“If I let you.”
Chris paused, breaking his gaze away to stare at the wall ahead where he had been just previously pushed. “If you let me.”
They remained seated in silence for a moment.
“Will you let me?”
Leon looked at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. He scoffed, looking away, his eyes fixed on the front door a few feet away from them.
“It isn’t that easy.” He finally opted for.
Chris looked at him. “You really are difficult…” He said in a sigh, shaking his head. “You still have my number, right?”
“Might’ve. Don’t remember.”
“Text me when you’ve changed your mind. Or really, if you need anything.”
He kept silent. Slowly, his head turned towards Chris, their eyes locking with each other. They stared. Leon’s expression seemed to soften, the corners of his eyes drooping in either tiredness or relief. Either way, Chris was glad that that frown wasn’t as prominent, and that those tears seemed to dry out. Leon broke the eye contact. Chris remained silent, waiting for whatever he had to say next.
His shoulders slumped in surrender, and with quivering lips, said, “I’ll think about it.”