Archive of Our Own

"You see hope in dark places and defend true love. You're saving happy endings and giving them out because you believe in love, even if it's a hard road." — Tessa Dare

She frequent goes to a gallery whenever her schedule allowed, finding the quiet halls to be a therapeutic escape from the chaos of her daily life. Now, this stranger was offering her a job as his professional date, a role that required nothing more than her presence. She hesitated because it was entirely outside her description. Her actual work involved infiltration, espionage, and high-stakes theft, rather than playing the part of a socialite at a gala. The thought of being a man's arm candy left her feeling profoundly unsettled.

But at the end of the day, she had nothing to lose, so Ada accepted with ease. This mission promised a breath of fresh air. It meant she would not need to be on guard twenty-four hours a day, and more importantly, it offered the possibility of seeing Leon at the gala, as the President is the one who is hosting it. 

It had been eleven months since they last stood face to face. After their biggest argument, Leon had asked her not to come back, and she had respected his request even though it hurt her deeply. At first, she still kept tabs on him to ensure his safety, but once she confirmed he was doing well, she gradually stopped checking in until she stop entirely.

Four years of seeing each other without a label had been absurd, and Ada was well aware of the strain it caused. If she were in Leon's position, she likely would have grown tired of her, too—always drifting away and returning whenever it suited her.

"You look good, Ana!" Laurence complimented her, using her so-called alias for tonight.

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

She wore a bold, tight dress made of dark olive-green lace with hints of burgundy. The most striking part was a rosary necklace that connected to the dress as a halter strap, leaving her entire back completely open down to her hips.

Laurence offered his arm, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the cool fabric of his suit a sharp contrast against her bare arm. As they walked toward the grand entrance of the gala, the low hum of the crowd and the flashing lights of the paparazzi grew louder. Ada forced her posture to straighten, instantly melting into her persona. Tonight, she was Ana.

The transition was seamless, a familiar armor she pulled over herself to hide the restless unease beneath. She offered the cameras a practiced, enigmatic smile while her eyes scanned the room with professional precision. She moved through the sea of tuxedos and gowns not as an intruder, but as if she belonged at the very center of the spotlight. Laurence seemed to preen beside her, clearly enjoying the attention their pairing drew, but Ada remained detached, her senses tuned to the frequency of the room.

Every shadow and every shifting face was a potential threat or a potential lead. She played the part of the devoted partner perfectly, leaning into Laurence with just enough grace to appear affectionate, all while her mind methodically dismantled the security layout of the ballroom. She was here for the quiet reprieve of a simple job, yet the hunter in her never truly went to sleep.

"Thank you again for accepting my job offer," Laurence said to her, breaking her out of her sudden daze.

"You're very much welcome," she answered, forcing her focus back to her companion.

Laurence was a fifty four year old gay man. When Ada had first found out about his sexuality, she immediately asked him why he wanted her to be his date. His first reason was that this was the second time he had seen her at his museum which, as it turned out, he actually owned. The second, more heartbreaking reason was that Ada looked exactly like his late husband. She was practically the female version of him.

When she heard that, her reluctance had vanished. Seeing how deeply Laurence still missed his husband, she accepted the job, hoping she could help ease his grief even just a little bit for one night.

"Just remember," Laurence whispered, bringing her back to the present as they stepped further into the ballroom. "Enjoy yourself. You belong here tonight."

Ada gave him a genuine, soft smile, touched by his kindness. But as she looked up, her gaze accidentally drifted past Laurence’s shoulder and landed on the crowded floor.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Standing near the center of the room, talking to a group of high-profile guests, was a tall man in a flawlessly tailored tuxedo. The sharp jawline, the broad shoulders, the effortless way he commanded the space around him it was unmistakable.

It was Leon.

Her hand tightened instinctively on Laurence’s arm, her fingers digging into the fabric as Leon chose that exact moment to look across the crowded room.

Laurence led her to their table and turned to the waiter to order. "What would you like, Ana?" he asked.

"The same as you." she replied, her gaze already drifting.

She searched the crowded room until her eyes finally landed on Leon. He was already looking back, his stare holding her captive from across the distance. Her heart gave a painful twitch, forcing her to break the contact, and she let out a quiet, long sigh.

"That was a long sigh," Laurence noted, watching her closely. "Who is he, an ex?"

Ada looked at him, startled. "Is it that obvious?" she asked. "But no... not an ex."

Laurence chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It is incredibly obvious. Even from across the room, the air between you two shifted the moment your eyes met."

Ada looked down at the pristine white tablecloth, trying to hide the sudden heat rising in her cheeks. "It is complicated."

He tilted his head, his gaze softening with understanding. "If he isn't an ex, then he is someone who still holds a piece of you. And by the way he is looking over here, he knows it too."

They stopped talking when their food arrived and began to eat. As the silence settled between them, Ada found herself contemplating whether to ask Laurence about his husband. For some reason, she felt surprisingly shy bringing up the topic. She didn't want to pry or accidentally reopen a painful wound, but the quiet intimacy of their table made her genuinely curious about the man who shared her face.

She shifted her fork around her plate, trying to find the right words. Laurence noticed her hesitation and paused, setting his napkin down with a gentle smile.

"You have that look on your face," he said softly. "Go ahead, ask me."

Ada swallowed, her usual confidence completely failing her. "I was just wondering... about your husband. What was his name?"

Laurence’s expression softened, a distant, warm light entering his eyes. "His name was Julian. And you don't have to be shy about asking, Ana. Talking about him is how I keep him alive."

"Were you two together for a long time?" she asked, leaning in slightly, the noise of the crowded ballroom fading into the background.

"Twenty-two years," Laurence said, a small, proud smile touching his lips. "We met when I was just starting the museum. He was an artist, you see. Full of life, always moving, always creating. He had this habit of completely losing himself in his work, and I was the one who kept him grounded." He looked at her, his gaze sweeping over her face. "He had that same quiet focus in his eyes that you have. That's what I saw in the museum yesterday."

Ada felt a lump form in her throat. 

"I'm sorry he's gone," she whispered genuinely.

"Don't be, my dear," Laurence replied, reaching out to pat her hand. "But I was lucky to have loved someone so deeply that it hurts this much to lose him. Not everyone gets to experience a love like that."

Ada took a small sip of her wine, using the quiet moment to finally build up her courage. She looked across the table at Laurence, her voice dropping to a soft, curious whisper.

"Why.... do you love?" she asked.

Laurence paused, looking at her with a gentle, knowing expression. He understood the deeper question hidden beneath her words. She wasn’t just asking about Julian anymore, she was trying to understand the purpose of loving someone when it brought so much pain.

"Because it makes the world bigger," Laurence answered softly, leaning forward. "Loving someone is a risk, and it rarely makes logical sense. But when you find the person who sees right through all your walls and loves the chaos inside you anyway, you don't really get a choice. You just love them. Even when it's terrifying, and even when you know it might break your heart."

"Is it hard to fight for that love when everyone is against you?" she asked "I mean, you two were men.....society didn't want to accept that."

"It was incredibly hard," Laurence replied, a faint, melancholic smile touching his lips as he swirled the wine in his glass. "When we were younger, society wasn't nearly as accepting as it is now. We faced the whispers, the cold shoulders, and the doors slammed in our faces just for holding hands."

He looked up, his gaze locking with hers, full of a wisdom that only comes from surviving the storms of life.

"But that is the secret, Ana," he said softly. "The fighting didn't weaken us, it made us unshakeable. When the whole world is against you, you quickly realize what actually matters. The noise outside doesn't matter. The judgment doesn't matter. All that matters is the person standing right in front of you, holding your hand through the dark. If the love is real, you fight for it because living a lie is far harder than fighting the crowd."

Ada listened in silence, his words hitting a raw nerve deep inside her. She looked away, her eyes involuntarily drifting back toward the crowded ballroom, wondering if she and Leon had ever really tried to fight for each other at all or is she even actually tried to fight for him at all.

She stood up and gently kissed Laurence's cheek. "I'm sorry, Laurence. I think I need to breathe and get some air."

Laurence nodded understandingly, reaching out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Go on, my dear. Take all the time you need. The fresh air will do you good."

Ada offered him a grateful, fleeting smile before turning away from the table. The noise of the ballroom, with the clinking glasses, the low hum of chatter, and the sweeping orchestral music, suddenly felt suffocating.

Keeping her posture elegant, she navigated her way through the glittering crowd, weaving past groups of talking politicians and wealthy guests. Her heart was beating a heavy rhythm against her ribs, but she didn't look back to see if Leon was still watching her. Right now, she just needed to escape the heavy, charged atmosphere of the room.

She spotted the grand glass doors leading out to the balcony. Pushing them open quietly, she stepped out into the cool, crisp night air, letting the silence of the terrace wash over her.

"So, what kind of job do you have here, Ada?"

She heard the deep voice at her back. She didn't even bother to look at him, her gaze remaining fixed on the city lights below.

"Why do you care, Leon?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet night air.

He leaned against the balcony railing beside her, his presence instantly throwing the space into a tense, familiar lullaby to her. 

"Because you are here with a man who is old enough to be your father, wearing a dress that costs more than my car, and pretending you don't see me." Leon said, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur.

Ada let out a cold, humorless laugh, finally turning her head to look at him. Up close, the sharp angles of his face and the intense, dark look in his eyes still had the power to make her breath catch. But she refused to let him see it.

"Laurence is a client," she said, keeping her tone perfectly level. "And what I wear, or who I spend my time with, stopped being your business eleven months ago when you told me to leave."

Leon's jaw tightened. He shifted closer, his shoulder almost brushing against hers, bringing with him the familiar scent of cedar and expensive cologne.

He sighed in defeat, choosing not to argue with her anymore. Instead, he took off his suit coat and put it gently over her bare shoulders, and she didn't bother to remove it. The familiar warmth and scent of him instantly wrapped around her, combating the chilly night air.

"We didn't see each other for months and this is how we act," he murmured, his voice softening as he looked out over the railing. "The fact that we are already in our thirties. So immature."

Silence enveloped them, and neither of them bothered to speak. The heavy, loaded quiet of the balcony was broken only by the distant, muffled music from the ballroom and the faint rush of the city below.

Ada pulled his coat a little tighter, wrapping her arms across her chest to trap the lingering scent of his cologne. It was a silent admission that she needed the warmth, even if it came from the one person she was supposed to be running from. They stood side by side, watching the flickering city lights, two people caught in the wreckage of a history they still did not know how to leave behind.

"Do you believe in love?" she asked suddenly, her voice barely rising above the distant hum of the gala.

Leon shifted his gaze toward her. "Of course. Who doesn't? It is the most beautiful thing in the world."

Ada turned, positioning herself so she could look him fully in the eye. The cold air stung her cheeks, but she didn't look away. "Have you ever fallen in love?"

Leon stared at her for a long, heavy moment, his brow furrowing as if she had just asked something entirely absurd. He had not expected such a question from her. It was not like Ada to show interest in something as fragile as love, yet the vulnerability in her posture, the way she clung to his coat made his chest tighten. In the stillness of the terrace, the question felt less like idle curiosity and more like an indictment of the years they had spent dancing around the truth.

"You know the answer to that," he said, taking a slow sip from the glass of whiskey he was holding. He looked back out at the city skyline before continuing. "I already did. I loved my ex, but she wasn't someone I felt I could fight for. When she asked to break up because I chose that job in Raccoon City because she didn't want a long-distance relationship so I let her go. But the feelings were real. She’s the whole reason I ended up drunk that night, which made me late for my very first day as a cop."

Ada kept her gaze fixed on him, her expression a mask of cool detachment, though his words struck a chord she had not anticipated. Hearing him speak so candidly about the life he had before the world fell apart felt like peering into a ghost story. It was a version of Leon she barely recognized, the earnest, wounded man who had been defined by a heartbreak she had nothing to do with.

The realization settled in her stomach, cold and heavy. For a fleeting second, she had entertained the selfish, perhaps arrogant, thought that she might have been the architect of his sorrow. But he was speaking of someone else—a woman from his past, a life he had lived before she had ever crossed his path.

The weight of his confession hung between them, undeniable and strangely isolating. She had always prided herself on knowing him, on being the most significant thing in his orbit, yet here was a fundamental, formative piece of his history that had absolutely nothing to do with her.

"A tragic beginning to a tragic career," she remarked, her voice smooth, though a subtle edge of mockery hid her curiosity. "And here I thought you were just a reckless rookie who couldn't handle his alcohol."

Leon let out a low, dry chuckle, swirling the alcohol liquid in his glass. "Maybe I was. But it taught me a lot about what I'm willing to lose, and what I'm willing to fight for."

He turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto hers, refusing to let her look away. The air between them grew thick again, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the space separating them.

"My ex wanted an easy life, Ada. She wanted someone who would stay put. But some people... some people are worth the distance. Worth the chaos even if they keep running."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she pulled her eyes away from him, needing to break the intensity of his focus. The confession hit harder than any bullet she had ever dodged. He was no longer talking about the woman from Raccoon City, he was talking about her. He was mapping out the years of their history, the way she had constantly retreated and the way he had consistently, stubbornly remained.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. She gripped the railing, her knuckles turning white against the cold metal. She had spent their entire relationship convinced that she was merely a complication in his life, a shadow that drifted in and out, but his words suggested something far more dangerous. He hadn't just been enduring her. He had been waiting for her.

"How about you, Ada? Have you ever fallen in love?" he asked, his gaze never once leaving her.

Instead of answering, Ada reached out and took the glass from his hand, drink it in a slow deliberate sip. The burn of the whiskey was a welcome distraction from the weight of his question.

"I don't know if what I felt for John was love," she muttered, staring down into the empty glass.

Leon frowned, the name tasting foreign and bitter on his tongue. "John?"

"John Clemens," she answered. She turned her back to the city lights, leaning her elbows against the cold railing. "An Umbrella researcher. I used him to infiltrate the company and secure the intel I needed. We were together for about half a year. It was strictly a performance on my part, but he never realized it. Still, looking back at it now... he did hold a special place in my life at that time."

She traced the rim of the glass, avoiding Leon’s eyes. It was a calculated confession, a way to strip away her own mystery and present herself as something colder, something more pragmatic. She watched his reaction closely, waiting for the flicker of disgust or the familiar disappointment she had come to expect whenever she laid her true colors bare.

Leon remained silent, his expression unreadable as he studied her profile. The confession hung in the frigid air, far more exposing than any secret she had ever stolen from a vault.

Ada composed herself, straightening her posture as the familiar mask of cool detachment slipped back into place. "I think I need to go back to Laurence." she said.

Leon just nodded, his expression giving nothing away.

Her heart felt incredibly heavy, a rare and unsettling sensation that made her chest ache. She turned and started walking away, but after only a few steps, she stopped immediately. She couldn't just leave it like this. Turning around, she looked at Leon again. "Leon." she called out.

Leon looked up at her, and for a fleeting second, she saw a heavy, profound sadness carrying in his eyes before he masked it.

"Are you still in love with me?" she asked.

The bluntness of the question startled him, his grip tightening slightly on his glass. He stayed quiet for a beat before looking her dead in the eye. "What if I am?"

Ada smiled softly, a bittersweet curve of her lips, and shook her head. "I see. You're still stupid."

Before she could turn away again, Leon closed the distance between them in two long strides. He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as if she might vanish into thin air if he let go. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled but raw with years of unspoken longing.

"I miss you so much, Ada." he whispered, inhaling the familiar, intoxicating scent of her.

Ada froze for a split second, her hands hovering in the air before she slowly let them rest against his chest. The heat radiating from him was grounded and real, a stark contrast to the cold, phantom ghosts of the past they had just been discussing.

"Leon," she murmured, her voice losing its sharp edge, replaced by a rare, soft breathlessness. She didn't push him away, but she didn't fully surrender to the embrace either, caught in the delicate balance she always maintained between them.

Leon didn't loosen his grip. He held her as if the chaos of the world outside this balcony didn't exist, his breath warm against her skin. "Just for a second, Ada," he muttered, his voice thick with a vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else. "Don't run for just a second."

A quiet sigh escaped her lips, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his jacket. She closed her eyes, letting herself lean into him, just enough to feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

"You never learn, do you?" she whispered against his shoulder, though the mockery was entirely gone, replaced by a quiet, bittersweet tenderness.

"No," Leon murmured, his voice a low vibration against her skin. "Not when it comes to you."

He slowly pulled back, just enough to look down at her face, though his hands remained anchored at her waist. His eyes searched hers, desperate to find a crack in her armor, a sign that she wanted to stay just as badly as he wanted her to.

Ada looked up at him, her dark eyes reflecting the dim moonlight. The silence between them stretched, no longer filled with the heavy tension of their past, but with a quiet, mutual understanding. She reached up, her gloved fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead—a gesture so entirely uncharacteristic of her, yet completely natural in the safety of his embrace.

"Laurence is waiting," she said softly, though she didn't make a move to step away.

"Let him wait," Leon countered, his thumb tracing a slow, gentle circle against her waist.

Ada let out a soft, genuine laugh this time, the bittersweet edge finally melting away. "I'm still working, Leon Scott Kennedy."

"What job did you take this time?" he asked, resting his forehead gently against hers, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the rare closeness.

"To be his date," she replied simply.

Leon’s eyes opened, a wry, playful glint replacing the sadness from before. "How much did he pay you? I can double it. Be my date instead."

Ada’s eyebrows arched in amusement. "How sure are you that you can afford me?"

"Maybe if I pay in installments," Leon countered without missing a beat, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "You can come collect the payment from me every month."

Ada broke a genuine, unrestrained laugh, echoing softly in the quiet night. It wasn't her usual rehearsed, smoky chuckle and it was real, bright, and completely unguided by her usual defenses.

Leon couldn't help but smile, captivated by the sound. It was so rare to hear her laugh like that completely unguarded, stripped of the mystery and the spy games. For a brief moment, she wasn't Ada Wong, the elusive phantom, she was just a woman laughing in his arms.

"Installments, huh?" Ada said as her laughter finally subsided, leaving her breathless. She looked up at him, her eyes bright with lingering amusement. "That sounds like a very long-term commitment, Leon. I didn't think a government agent liked being in debt."

"For you, I'll make an exception," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips before rising back to her eyes. "Besides, it guarantees I get to see you every month. I'd say that's a pretty good investment."

Ada shook her head, the playful spark in her eyes softening into something deeper, more wistful. She gently placed her palms against his chest, pushing back just enough to create a sliver of space between them.

"You're impossible," she whispered, though there was no real bite to her words. She stepped out of his embrace completely this time, smoothing down her dress as the professional mask began to settle over her features once more. 

"You're going home with me, right?" he asked.

She smiled, a hint of genuine warmth returning to her eyes. "I'm going to collect the first month's installment later, Leon. See you at home." she said, before turning to walk away from him.

When she returned to their table, Laurence was occupied, speaking with someone else. Ada sat down quietly, picking up a fresh glass and sipping it slowly, letting the liquor steady the racing rhythm of her heart.

"I see you both talked, considering you are wearing his coat." Laurence remarked, his eyes twinkling with a knowing glint as he glanced at her.

A sudden, rare blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks the moment he pointed out the heavy fabric draped over her shoulders. She had completely forgotten she was still wearing it. She cleared her throat, forcing her professional mask to snap back into place. "We did." she answered, her voice steadying despite the lingering heat in her skin.

Laurence studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp but not unkind. He did not press her for details, sensing that the fragile truce she had just brokered with the past was still settling. Instead, he simply offered a small, knowing smile and turned back to his conversation, leaving Ada in the quiet sanctuary of her own thoughts. She looked down at the coat, her fingers tracing the fine wool, realizing that for the first time in years, she didn't feel the urge to run.

Laurence offered a wry, amused chuckle, looking past her toward the balcony. "Well, he's smiling now that he's staring over here. Earlier, I'm pretty sure he was trying to kill me with his eyes."

Ada glanced back over her shoulder. Sure enough, Leon was still standing by the railing, but the murderous glare he had been directing at Laurence all night was completely gone. Instead, a soft, incredibly satisfied smirk played on his lips as he watched her.

Taking a slow sip of her drink to compose herself, though the warmth in her cheeks refused to fade.

"He can be intense." Ada murmured, trying to sound indifferent.

Laurence smiled, a gentle, worldly look in his eyes. "Intense is one word for it. Devoted is another. I have lived long enough to know that a man only looks at a woman that way when she holds his entire world in her hands." He paused, looking at the heavy jacket resting on her shoulders. "You wear his armor, Ana, yet you act like you are still exposed to the cold."

Ada set her glass down, her fingers tracing the rim. "It is complicated, Laurence. My life does not exactly leave room for things like this."

"Because you choose not to make room," Laurence said softly, leaning in. "We like to think that protecting our hearts keeps us safe, that staying detached makes us invulnerable. But it is a lonely way to live. Love is not about finding a perfect, quiet life. It is about finding the one person whose chaos matches your own, the one who looks at all your flaws and your dangerous secrets, and still decides you are worth the trouble."

He gestured faintly toward the balcony.

"A man who can go from wanting to kill me to smiling like a fool just because you spoke to him? That is not just a crush, Ana. That is a man who would follow you into hell. Do not let your fear of being vulnerable trick you into running away from the only real thing you have." 

Ada looked back at Leon briefly, taking in the sight of him waiting for her, before she let out a quiet, heavy sigh. She might have sounded incredibly confident when she told him see you at home just a few minutes ago, but the truth was much more complicated. Inside, the familiar doubts were already creeping back in.

Her mind was a full of survival instincts, constantly telling her to be cautious, pulling her back and stopping her from going all out. She was used to operating in the shadows, always keeping one foot out the door, and the sheer weight of what Leon was offering terrified her. Her heart was a confused, tangled mess of wanting his warmth but fearing the vulnerability that came with it.

Laurence noticed the hesitation in her eyes and gave a small, understanding nod. He didn't press her further, knowing some walls took time to dismantle.

Ada looked down at her glass, her fingers tightly gripping the stem as she tried to quiet the war raging in her head.

When the party finally ended, Ada walked out toward the parking lot, her hand resting casually on Laurence's shoulder to maintain the appearance of being his attentive date until the very last moment.

"Thank you for accompanying me, Ana." Laurence said softly, offering a polite, grateful smile.

She smiled back at him, the professional mask firmly in place. But the moment they stepped out into the cool night air and reached the vehicles, the illusion shattered.

Leaning casually against a nearby car was Leon. He had his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed but his sharp eyes were locked onto them the second they appeared. The moonlight caught the steady, unyielding look in his gaze, making it very clear that he had no intention of leaving without her.

Laurence stopped beside his car door, looking from Ada to Leon, a knowing chuckle escaping him. "Well, it seems your ride is here. And judging by the look on his face, I shouldn't keep you a second longer."

He gently patted the hand she had resting on his shoulder, then nodded respectfully toward Leon. "Thank you for the wonderful evening, Ana. Take care of yourself."

Ada slipped her hand back, offering a graceful nod. "Thank you, too. Laurence. Stay safe."

As Laurence got into his car, Ada turned her attention to Leon. He hadn't moved an inch, still leaning against the hood with that same quiet, patient intensity. The cool night breeze rustled his hair, but his eyes never wavered from hers.

She walked over to him, the heels of her stilettos clicking softly against the asphalt. Stopping just a foot away, she looked down at the heavy coat she was still wearing, then up at his face.

"I thought I told you I see you at home." she said, her voice dropping into that familiar, teasing murmur.

Leon finally stood up straight, closing the small distance between them. The playful smirk from earlier softened into something much more grounded and real. "Why wait there? When we can go there together."

Ada didn't answer right away. She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but found only that steady, unyielding certainty. The doubts from earlier still lingered in the back of her mind, a quiet warning to turn around and vanish into the night like she always did. But looking at him now, standing right there in front of her, the chaos of the world seemed to fade into the background.

Leon stood up straight, stepping away from the car, and extended his open hand toward her.

"Let's go home, Ada." he said, his voice thick with a quiet, honest promise.

Ada looked down at his palm, then up into his eyes. The doubt in her mind didn't completely vanish, but for the first time, she chose to ignore it. A genuine, unguarded smile spread across her lips as she reached out, letting her fingers slide into his, her hand fully resting in his warmth.

Maybe this time she will try.