Work Text:
⊹ ࣪ ˖♡♡♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡♡♡₊˚⊹
It was a random Thursday night. You were huddled in your chair, eyes locked onto your laptop screen—the same screen you’d accidentally broken a part of last week Tuesday when you were rolling around on your bed and didn't account for the fragile it actually was. You were too embarrassed to say anything to your mom about it. You cannot look her in the eyes and tell her of your stupidity.
So now a corner of your screen was just a series of colorful vertical lines. You could still use it. You'd live. But still.
Your eyes skimmed through the pdf of your subject's book, comparing it to the notes you'd taken during your lecture earlier that day. You’ve been filling in the gaps in your notes for what felt like forever. Your eyes were dry. Painfully dry.
You blinked and winced at how rough it felt. Immediately, you scrambled for your eye drops, thankfully you remembered you had placed it in your pencil case. Small victories.
Just as you had finished placing the last drop on your eye, you heard a small sharp thud coming from your window.
Then another.
And another.
You probably should've been alarmed. Any normal person would be. But you already knew who was stupid enough to be throwing pebbles at your window late at night.
You carefully slid your window open, making sure it did not make any sound—your mom was a notoriously light sleeper.
With a stupid smile tugging at your lips, you looked down into your yard.
There he was. Your boyfriend. Wearing an equally stupid smile.
Leon S. Kennedy—your ridicously sweet boyfriend—stood in your yard holding a paper bag in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier with two cups in the other. He had on a soft grey jacket over a navy t-shirt and black sweatpants. He looked comfortable. Cozy. Like he belonged in a warm room instead of lurking outside your window past midnight.
“It’s late, loverman,” You leaned forward, elbows on your windowsill. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought you were studying too hard, so I came bearing gifts.” Leon grinned up to you, stepping closer. He lifted the paper bag up and gave it a little shake. “Brought you a few slices of your favorite cake.”
“No way.” Disbelief in your voice—not that you didn't believe him, just that this whole situation was slightly absurd. Cake delivery at midnight? Crazy work.
“Way~.” The sass practically dripped off his tongue. His blue eyes—the same pair you love to stare at for hours on end—sparkled with mischief. “Unless…you don't want it?”
The nerve of this man. He leaned back slightly, hiding the bag and drinks behind him.
“Don't you dare!” You jolted forward, half whispering, half hissing so you wouldn't wake the entire house.
“Let me in already.” Leon grinned triumphantly. He really was a gremlin disguised in a puppy’s body. “It's chilly out here.”
You shook your head, your faux anger dissolving immediately. Gesturing for him to come up, you stepped back from the window.
He set the goods carefully on the sill before hoisting himself through. He used to stumble the first few times he did this, but after years of late-night practice it was practically second nature.
His feet landed softly on your floor—then a loud rustle of paper followed when he shifted a bit.
His feet lightly thumped on the floor but then a rustle of paper when he tried to take another step. On the floor of your room was a mess of papers, reviewers, transcripts, loose notes, highlighted and annotated to death. All carelessly strewn all over, covering a great deal of the space.
Leon nearly jumped before immediately apologising to the papers like they could hear him. He slipped off his shoes and tucked them into a rare free corner.
“Well,” He muttered, surveying the chaos, “this is a…unique welcome mat.”
“You're too energetic this late at night, Leon.” You snickered, sliding your hands into his and intertwining your fingers.
His hands were bigger than yours. Rough from officer training, Warm, though. Always warm. Like him.
“Okay, rude.” He straightened up, giving you the perfect opportunity to press a kiss on his soft cheek. He smiled at that—but then it faltered.
“…Hey.”
You blinked. “What?”
He leaned in slightly, brows drawing together as he got a proper look at you. His thumb shifted against your knuckles, almost unconsciously.
“Did you cry?”
Your brain stalled. “What? No.”
“Your eyes,” he said quietly. “They’re red. And kinda glossy.”
Oh.
Right.
You let out a small huff, half amused, half touched. “I just put eye drops in. I’ve been staring at my laptop for hours.”
His gaze flicked over to your desk, to the wounded corner of your screen with its permanent rainbow streaks, then back to you. His jaw tightened just a little.
“You scared me,” he admitted.
Suddenly your chest felt like it was hosting an intense beyblade match.
“You think I’d cry and not tell you?” You teased gently, trying to nudge the mood back up.
He didn’t immediately tease back.
“…I think you would,” he said after a second. Not accusing. Just honest.
You softened without meaning to.
“I’m okay,” you murmured, squeezing his hands. “Promise.”
“Okay,” he said quietly. Then, softer, “But if you’re not, you tell me. I don’t care how small it is.”
“Don't you worry, I will.” You couldn't help it—you grinned at him.
Leon couldn't help but stare at your twinkling eyes as you smiled. He always did so. Like he was mesmerised.
“Now then…what brings you here, kind sir?” You teased, your voice snapping him out of it.
“Oh—uh.” He shook his head lightly, smiling. “I figured you needed a study break.” His gaze drifted around your room again. “You've been holed up in here for days, it shows by the way.”
“Okay, rude,” you echoed his previous words and tone, slipping your hand out of his. “You can see yourself if you're going to make fun of me.”
“After I came all this way and brought you food?” He grumbled, cheeks puffing out—how cute—as he grabbed the bag and drink carrier. “Unbelievable.”
“Drama queen.” You tried to stifle your laughter as you pivoted back to your chair.
“Well, excuse me for worrying about my significant other.” Leon grumbles once more as he tiptoes around the sea of papers. Trying his best not to crumple or step on your papers. He settled on the edge of your unmade bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He placed the bag and drinks on your nightstand.
“Fine, fine,” you sighed dramatically, rolling your chair closer to him. “I thank thee for thy generous concern.”
He handed you a fork and the paper container with your promised cake.
“You don't even sound thankful," He said, shaking his head, pursing his lips as he did so.
You noticed a sheen on them.
This man is wearing lipgloss.
Probably the one you gave him last week after he'd complained his lips were ‘criminally dry’. It was a ruse he just wanted a kiss from you but you naively gave him a tube of your gloss. You mentally pat yourself on the back. You did this world a service.
“I am, I swear!” You laughed, almost unable to continue your sentence. “I'm happy you're here.”
“That's right! You should be,” He huffed, but there was no real bite to it. “I got so worried for you when you've been dnd for a while. Thought you finally fused with your notes or something.”
He made himself comfortable on your bed like he belonged in its soft sheets—in a way he did—grabbing one of your pillows and tucking it onto his lap. His shoulders relaxed, like this room was safer than anywhere else.
“You need to take a break,” he added, softer this time.
“Right, right…I do.” You look down at your lap as you peeled open the container. Inside were mouthwatering slices of your favorite cake. The sight alone made a lopsided smile stretch across your face. It felt unfair how easily he could make you this happy.
“You’re the best, Leon.”
“Glad to be of service.” He beamed at that, actually beamed—shoulders straightening, eyes glimmering like you’d just knighted him or something.
You took a generous forkfull of cake.
For a second, you nearly keeled over and died right there. Days of denying yourself anything remotely joyful had finally caught up to you. Sugar hits your system like a blessing.
You made a small noise. You didn’t even try to hide it.
“The hot coco might get cold. Here.” Leon leaned forward, handing you one of the cups.
Your fingers brushed when you took it.
It was still warm—thank God. The heat seeped into your palms, grounding you. It was a nice change from the plain water you’d been forcing yourself to drink lately. You were on some self-imposed caffeine cleanse.
Arguably the worst decision of your academic career.
So now you were just raw-dogging your study binge. No caffeine. No joy. Just vibes and academic anxiety.
Leon watched you take a sip, eyes soft in a way that made your chest feel tight.
He didn’t say it.
But you knew.
And you hoped he knew too.
⊹ ࣪ ˖♡♡♡⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡♡♡₊˚⊹