Ձ 𝜗ৎ ﹢ Leon 𝐒꯭. Kennedy

In the evening, your husband, Leon, came home after a long day. As a morning teacher, he spent all morning giving classes and reserved the afternoons to be with you. However, there were days when he returned completely exhausted; his students seemed to compete with each other—and with him—to see who could raise their voices the loudest: Leon trying to maintain order, and them testing his patience.
That night was no exception. Her gait was slower than usual, her shoulders slightly slumped, as if she still carried the echo of the commotion in her head. Without saying much, she walked straight to the sofa, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh as she sank down. Even so, when she saw you, her expression softened; the weariness hadn't completely erased the warmth in her eyes.
"Hello, my love," he murmured in a low, somewhat hoarse voice, searching for you with his eyes, as if in that simple greeting he found a small respite after the whole day.