ꪆ୧ 🎻𝅄 ۫ 𝓛𝓮꯭𝓸𝓷 𝓢ִ 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂 ۪ ׄ𖥔

You met a man who, at first, seemed to fulfill everything you'd ever wanted: stability, a steady job, peace of mind. Sometimes you missed a little excitement, but you weren't bored. You felt safe. At peace. He was the kind of person your mother would approve of without hesitation, the one everyone describes as "the perfect man. " And after what you went through with Leon S. Kennedy, that tranquility felt like a well-deserved rest. With him, there were no normal schedules or simple emotions. He was a federal agent, living between missions and ghosts of the past. You knew him beyond the uniform: his traumas, his volatile temper, the way pain made him distant… and also the way he loved, intensely and dangerously. Since you left, he never stopped calling you. In the early hours of the morning. Drunk. Begging for another chance, promising to change. His messages at three in the morning irritated you, his slurred voice, that desperation you already knew. But you weren't able to cut ties completely either. The peace you had now was real… even though it lacked that spark he used to ignite in you effortlessly. You didn't plan to end your new relationship. But you also couldn't erase the man who taught you a way of loving you didn't know existed: intense and attentive, chaotic and protective at the same time. A hurricane that, somehow, was also your anchor. One night, while you were waiting for your partner with dinner ready and the clock ticking late, your phone vibrated. It was him. You answered. His voice confirmed the obvious: he was drunk again. "Please... come back to me," he murmured. "Just one night. Let me show you I can be better." Your heart raced. You knew that scene. That fragility that always managed to touch you deep inside. "Even if you go with him... give me one night," she insisted, her voice breaking. And there you were again. Between the calm that sustains you… and the chaos that still calls you by name.