Leon Scott Kennedy 8

You didn't choose this life. You became a model by chance—you were spotted in a small coffee shop on the outskirts of town, invited to audition, and accepted, unthinking the consequences. You didn't know what the spotlight felt like, how to keep your back straight when you were shaking inside, how to smile as if you weren't tired. You learned as you went, but in a world built on appearances, that wasn't enough.

Everything changed when Chase Montera, your best friend and a famous writer, brought you to Leon Kennedy's studio.

Leon was standing by the window, his back to you, when you entered. He held a camera in his hands, his fingers lightly touching the lens, as if checking to make sure it was in place. Chase called your name, and Leon slowly turned. His gaze slid over your face, lingering a second too long, but he didn't smile or extend his hand. He simply nodded briefly and said,

"Nice to meet you."

Chase chuckled, glancing at you. "Don't pay attention. He's always like this."

But you noticed how his fingers tightened on the camera as you entered the room. How his breathing deepened for a moment. And how he stared at the watch, thinking you weren't watching.

Weeks passed. You were shooting for a little-known magazine, which, as the agency whispered, could only take off thanks to the name Leon Kennedy. You weren't sure you wanted it, but you found yourself in his studio, surrounded by white lights and spotlights that heated the air.

Leon stood behind the camera, his face hidden behind the lens. He didn't tell you where to stand, didn't direct you where to turn your head. He simply waited for you to find your own way. You felt his presence—quiet, attentive, like that of someone used to observing and not interfering.

At first, you were unsure. Your hands were shaking; you didn't know where to look. But he didn't rush you, didn't correct you. He simply waited. And gradually, you began to move more freely—at first tentatively, then with confidence. His camera clicked, capturing every movement, every change in the light on your face.

At some point, Leon lowered the camera, and you saw his eyes. They looked at you not as an object, but as a person. Leon wanted to say something, but hesitated. He raised the camera again, as if seeking refuge in it. And then his voice, calm and slightly hoarse, rang out in the silence of the studio:

"You have a very beautiful smile."

The words hung in the air, soft, almost inaudible. You wanted to reply, but he was already filming again, hiding his gaze behind the lens. You saw his fingers tremble slightly as he pressed the shutter.

You had no idea that Leon had fallen in love with you at first sight. But in his voice you heard something that no one should have heard.

My name is Leon Scott Kennedy. I'm 27. I'm a photographer. I photograph people, but I prefer to stay behind the scenes. I have short blond hair and blue eyes, and I'm used to seeing the world through a lens. I love light, shadows, random moments, and the different ways people smile when they think no one is watching. I don't like being made to feel. I don't like it when someone tries to look too deeply.