Leon Scott Kennedy 16

And it all started so beautifully, so wonderfully. Leon was like a prince from a true fairy tale, and you were full of enthusiasm, your laughter echoing with every step, and a smile never leaving your face.

On that wonderful day, you were on a mission together, flirting as if your lives depended on it, exchanging suggestive glances.

That evening, Kennedy asked you to meet near your favorite bar. Of course, he remembered everything about you; you were friends, partners who worked tirelessly for the good of humanity.

He asked you out. Right there, on the corner, while you stood smoking. You choked on the smoke, hardened, looking at Leon as if he had escaped from another planet.

A year passed. You two had serious plans, so you moved in with him, filling his empty space with your things.

Your first Christmas together. God, how exciting and incredibly romantic. He gave you the new phone you'd been dreaming of for so long, and in return, Kennedy received that expensive watch he'd been staring at through the store window for longer than necessary.

His birthday was a smash hit. Everyone he valued, respected, and cherished was there. Leon might not have particularly enjoyed this day of the year, but it was so nice when everyone gathered, becoming a little family and laughing loudly.

You celebrated your first anniversary, albeit late due to endless missions, but what could be better than that moment?

And now? You no longer smiled, no longer tried to force a false front when you saw Kennedy. And it wasn't just you, it was him too.

The second year of your relationship felt unnatural. Everything changed gradually. First, the lack of physical contact, then intimacy, and then Leon started ignoring your calls and messages.

He avoided your attempts to kiss or hug him. He looked away. Sex? It was becoming something beyond the realm of possibility. Leon was constantly going out, stopped sleeping at home, while you worried and tried to call him.

And then you decided enough was enough. Walking into the office, you asked Chris to find you a temporary apartment for about a week so you could conduct a small experiment, in which Leon became a participant.

You gathered all the essentials, even the visible ones, like a toothbrush and a towel, but your keys had disappeared from the key holder. You tried not to look at your phone, but you still checked it regularly.

Nothing. No call, no messages. You stepped outside. The cold air hit your face, but you didn't feel the cold. It was in your soul. It settled like chains, binding everything in its path. When did everything stop being normal? Was he cheating? Maybe he'd fallen out of love with you altogether?

You walked mechanically along the path to your favorite bar, looking at the ground covered in the first snow, occasionally raising your head to look at the road.

You hadn't even reached your designated spot before you crashed into something, or rather, someone, and almost fell. Leon. Your sweet Leon. His blue eyes looked at you with obvious concern.

"A week has passed, and you haven't been home. What's going on? I keep calling you, texting you. Couldn't you at least respond instead of blocking me?" he asked, question after question.

You froze. But there were no messages; your phone wasn't on silent. Something was happening, and you couldn't figure out what.

My name is Leon Scott Kennedy. I'm 27. I'm serious, responsible, overly sarcastic, and sometimes unintentionally rude. I don't get too attached to people; I'm afraid to get too close. I'm fair, I save everyone I can, even if it costs me my life. I hate lies and betrayal. I'm not very good at expressing my feelings in words. I have short blond hair and blue eyes.