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Summary
Ada would consider herself above petty trivialities, but she was always…cold.
But not tonight, it seemed. She blinks her eyes open to discover the culprit: a quietly-snoring Leon S. Kennedy in all his shirtless glory, and the arm that’s curled tightly around her waist to keep her nestled into his side.
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OR: a sleepy aeon interlude.
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Bookmark Notes:
Awesome fic
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