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    Summary

    "Not caring what others thought or caring what my team thought. The only person I cared for was Leon’s and now it was time for the Nuclear Option."

    --

    Leon’s calloused hands reached his neck as he ran his hand along the dark bruise like lines that were growing up his neck. The navy blue turtleneck he was wearing barely covered it and well.. I could still see it anyway. He just shook his head, his lips pressing together as he grinned, just a touch. Gearing up to say something sarcastic, he always made the same expression. His eyes narrowed and he grinned further just enough to see his teeth. “Oh.. you know,” He paused, biting his bottom lip before starting to speak again, “Other than the impending sense of doom I feel every morning? Perfect.” I just scoffed at him, not trying to give away my amusement as his horrible and ill conceived joke. “You really think that’s funny?” I spouted finally, as I rose to my feet. Moving over to him and standing directly in front of his chair at his legs. He looked to be thinking, tapping his chin. Trying to seem like he didn’t already have an answer. He was messing with me. “I do, Chris. I really do.”

    Jokes can't save you from the inevitable, can they? Leon?

    Language:
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