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“People can change, right?”
He feels the tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he looks at the man laying on the floor. Drops of blood standing out against the washed down wood. The sickly-sweet smell of cigarette smoke that threatens to cloud his lungs, as well as his mind. The warmth of the hand that he holds tenderly in his own.
He can’t let go now. Not after everything they’ve been through.
“Cmon, Luis, please,” He begs. He holds on tighter, pressing the pads of his fingers against each ring that adorns Luis’ calloused fingers. He’s taken the time to memorize the feel of each one. The way some are worn down, dust collected in the grooves, whereas others still hold the faintest shine. “We can get out of here alive, together.” His voice quivers when he speaks, and the tough-as-steel composure that he’s fought for years to maintain crumbles within seconds as he meets Luis’ gaze.
And then the cigarette falls.
Leon jolts up as his hands grip at the sheets beneath him. He doesn’t realize this until he feels his nails prick into his palms, the sensation of which forces him out of his daze for a moment. He wipes the sweat from his neck and sighs out defeatedly.
The same nightmare, again and again, every night. It’s been on repeat for the past month, and even though he wakes up time and time again with Luis right by his side, he can’t help but worry that maybe, just maybe, he might lose him again. That maybe the nightmare won’t end, that he’ll wake up alone.
He looks over to his left, to see Luis sleeping peacefully beside him. His chest shallowly rises and falls with each breath, ribs barely poking out amongst golden-tanned skin. He looks so calm when he’s asleep, Leon thinks, and he feels his heart swell at the fact that they’ve been together long enough for him to know that. He reaches over, arm resting on Luis’ waist as he buries his face into the man’s neck, smelling the faint presence of driftwood.
“Dios mío, amor, up this late?” Luis rasps, his hand sneaking over to hold Leon’s own. Leon hums in response, body pushing further into Luis’ back. Luis instead opts to turn himself, looking back into Leon’s glassy blue eyes. He brings his hand up and rests it on Leon’s cheeks, rubbing it with his thumb which coaxes one lone tear to run down. They both know how Leon is, the persistent night terrors and an ever-present insomnia that even the DSO’s strongest pills can’t combat. It feels Leon with a churning sense of guilt, knowing that Luis has to put up with his problems, but Luis doesn’t mind helping him if it means he gets to see Leon happy. It’s a dynamic that keeps them both going, for eachother.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Luis asks, noticing the downturn of Leon’s mouth at the question.
“It’s… it’s the same as always.” Leon murmurs. “The possibility that you died there, when Krauser stabbed you. It just feels so… so real,” he whispers the final part, as though it’s a secret he’s afraid to admit. It’s no surprise to Luis, as he’s grown to notice that Leon has always been very shut-off emotionally.
That’s something Luis has noticed isn’t exclusive to Leon’s excruciating line of work, rather, a mish-mash of the overall events of his life. Losing his only family left him bouncing between temporary homes, before finally finding belonging in the one thing nobody had done for him at that point, helping others. A dream cut short by the disastrous outbreak of the T-Virus, an apocalypse that Leon barely survived, only to be shoved into government operations of the same variant. As Leon had once drunkenly put it, “There’s no time for therapy when you’re keeping the world safe,” a sentiment Luis didn’t entirely share.
Nonetheless, he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Leon’s lips, relishing in the way he returns it in kind. Luis’ hands trail downwards, towards Leon’s chest, fingertips grazing the milky flesh there. This elicits a shuddering breath from Leon, who pulls away from the kiss to nuzzle his face into the small of Luis’ neck.
“You know I love you, mi vida, I’d never leave you,” he says, tracing small circles on the faded scars just under Leon’s pectorals. Shaking hands grab at his shoulders, and he faintly hears a cut-off sob from below him. He presses one hand back up to Leon’s heart, the other curling around his back and pulling him close. “The past is the past. We’re here now, alive, do you understand that?” Luis asks, and Leon nods, hot tears running down his face.
They lay like that for what seems like hours, Leon’s incoherent sobbing gradually being reduced to the occasional sniffle. Luis just keeps him close, patting his back and softly mussing his hair.
"I love you, Luis," Leon whispers, just loud enough for Luis to pick up, and he looks up, placing a small kiss to the man's cheek before burying himself back in his neck.
"I love you too, mi amor," Luis smiles, pulling him just a bit closer so that they're flush to eachother, before drifting off to sleep.
Right now, they’re safe.