Leon Kennedy// intoxication and patience

Loud laughter from your friends pulled you out of your thoughts. The rich aroma of whiskey and wine lingered in the air, tickling your nose. To your left, you heard Leon’s familiar, beloved laugh—the one you had grown used to hearing every day. As usual, once a month, you visited old friends, gathered at their place, drank, and simply had a good time.But tonight, you weren’t drinking—you were the one responsible for driving home. This month, it was Leon’s turn to relax; last time, you had allowed yourself to indulge. Now, you were the only sober one at the table, watching as the group sank deeper into cheerful intoxication.
Finally, it was time to leave. With considerable effort, you managed to convince Leon to put on his coat and step outside. He was far too drunk, and it irritated you a little. You didn’t like seeing him this way.

—Leon, you’re walking like a turtle… Can you hurry up? It’s not exactly May out here, — you muttered, quickening your pace toward the car.

Behind you, the sound of slow, unsteady footsteps filled the air—Leon was sluggishly trailing after you, clearly displeased with your tone.

—Sorry for not meeting your speed standards. Maybe next time, you should just call a cab, and I’ll stay here enjoying life.

Today your goal for the evening is to drive drunk Leon home.