Chapter 22 - Guarded Feelings

----

Quick note but thank you so, so, so, much for over 100K reads. It's unreal! I appreciate each vote, comment and read! <3

Enjoy!

----

- 6 Days Later -

6:26 P.M

"Ava, this is the fourth voicemail I've left, for god's sake. Where the hell are you?" Your frustration reverberates through the phone as you pace inside your living room with one hand on your hip, showing your apparent annoyance. "You said you'd be back by Friday. Today is Saturday. I have to get to work in two hours, and I can't leave Irene alone." You pause, trying to calm down. "Please call me when you get this."

With a sigh, you hang up the phone, tossing it onto the bed. No matter what, she will always be irresponsible with her promises. You try to understand her, but she has to understand you too. You don't have the luxury now to take a day off since you work outside the family's hospital.

Suddenly, Irene, still in her pajamas, makes her way into the living room. Her hair adorably tousled, and her hand into small fist, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Your irritation leaves instantly at the precious display.

"Oh hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Did you have a good nap?"

With a lazy nod, she groggily utters in her small, high-pitched voice, "Auntie, I'm hungry."

"I made you some macaroni with tomato sauce and oregano. Let's go and eat, okay?" you say with a faint smile as you start to walk towards the kitchen. You hear Irene padding behind you as you hear her small yawn. 

The past week has been a blur, operating on autopilot—taking Irene to school, then going to work for your shift, then picking up her from school, helping her with homework, having to cook for her, and squeezing in your piano studies. It has been extremely challenging, making you feel like a single mother. Still, you are quite saddened she'll leave.

Because Irene's company gave you a comforting escape - playing, drawing, and spending time with her also gave you the experience of the childhood you wished to live. Along with the innocence she casts, it acts like a magical shield, momentarily pulling you away from the troubles that have torture you lately, especially the unresolved situation with Leon.

The abrupt silence from him after that fateful night is boiling within you. The memories replay like an endless loop—the tender kiss, the harsh shift in his attitude the morning after, and his failure to even offer an apology. It's disheartening to realize that instead of softening, he grew harsher, especially towards you. After everything you've been through together, it's difficult to comprehend...

You're extremely disappointed in him.

Upon reaching the kitchen with Irene, you open the cabinet, grabbing a neat white plate before adding a small portion and placing it before her. A napkin and fork follow, placed within Irene's reach, and she eagerly digs into her meal. Fingers wrap around the fork's metal, savoring the first juicy, doughy bite.

"Do you like it?" you ask softly, and Irene nods as she chews. "I'm glad."

Seated, you observe your niece with tenderness as she enjoys her meal, while your ears automatically focus on the clock's ticking. You want to call Ava again, but you know she won't answer.

"What do you want to play after I eat?" Irene asks, looking up at you. Turning your attention back to her, you gently take the napkin and wipe away the saucy mustache formed around her mouth.

"Ah...I wish we could play, Irene, but I have to head to work soon."

"Why don't you ask aunt Claire to work for you?"

Claire Redfield. Ah. This girl is a real fucking angel. You couldn't ask for a better and such supportive friend. Not to mention she also picked up Irene from school when you couldn't. Without her, you're uncertain how you would manage.

You chuckle at Irene's innocent suggestion. "It doesn't quite work that way. Claire has her own job. Besides, your mom will be here soon to pick you up and take you home."

Hopefully.

Irene's expression unexpectedly drops at the news. "Can't I stay here for one more day?" she murmurs, clearly disappointed. Surprisingly, she appears sadder about leaving than you expected. You thought she would miss Ava and Aiden by now and be eager enough to return home.

"I'd love to have you stay here for as long as you want, trust me. But with my job, I won't be able to look after you, and I don't want to leave you here all alone."

"But I want to stay here..." She insists. Fuck. How can you reject such a cute child? Especially when it's your own blood? But work is work. You're running low on funds, and blowing this job isn't an option. Until you find something better, you need to stick to the bar and adjust to its demanding hours since it pays the best.

Clearing your throat to redirect her attention, you lean in closer to her. "Mom and Dad have missed you so much, though. Aren't you happy they'll be back and you'll get to spend time with them?"

"Daddy is all day at work and mommy goes out with her friends," she casually states, oblivious to the weight of her words. Her innocent, yet sad confession breaks your heart. You don't know what's going on behind closed doors, but hearing from a 6-year-old saying that, means that she's really being neglected. A lot.

"Okay, how about I come over to your home on Sunday and we will play all day together?" you suggest, eliciting a spark in Irene's eyes. It's the only day you can study in peace, but sacrificing it for one day won't hurt anyone...Right?

"All day?"

"All day," you affirm with a hopeful smile. "We'll even go to the park and grab some doughnuts to eat."

"And we'll visit the lake to feed the duckies?"

"Doughnuts?" you tease playfully, earning a giggle from her.

"No, we'll eat the doughnuts, and the duckies will eat the duck food."

"Ohhh, that explains it. Of course, then, we can do that," you say, satisfied with the change in her demeanor. "Now eat up before it gets cold."

Irene nods, returning back to her dinner with a different mood, while you rise and head to the fridge to grab a bottle of cold water. Opening it, you find it depressingly almost empty. The bills keep piling up, and your food supplies are lowering. Never knew what struggling financially meant, till now. Thankfully, tomorrow you will get half of your monthly paycheck.

If you don't get fired.

Glancing at the time, you sigh almost impatiently, frustrated that Ava still hasn't called. It's only been a month since you started this job, and you've already caused problems to Julia. Today, you can't afford to be late.

With no other choice, you have to ask for Claire's help. Again.

"You sit here and finish your meal while I make a phone call, okay?" you softly instruct Irene. She nods before you slip away from the kitchen, pulling out your phone. Dialing Claire's number, you can't help but hope she will answer and be able to help you.

Thankfully, after a few beeps, Claire's voice comes through the other line. "Hey, I was just about to call you."

"Guess we have some type of telepathy," you joke. "You busy?"

"No, I'm getting ready to leave the base with Carlos and Luis. We were thinking of coming to your bar, so we can all catch up."

Great. She can't look after Irene...Unless...Shit. You're left with no alternatives.

"You're welcome to come over. I'd love to see Carlos and Luis," you pause, contemplating how to broach the subject delicately. "Claire... I hate to ask, but I need a favor."

----

Chris gently pushes the sheets off of him, swinging his legs to the edge of the bed. With a subdued groan, he retrieves his boxers from the floor. In the quiet of the room, Ava stirs, sitting up with a sheet wrapped around her naked form.

"Leaving so soon?" she asks, her gaze following his movements.

"Yeah, duty calls. I've got to get back to work," Chris replies, slipping into his underwear. His fingers move and linger at the edge of the bed, and Ava inches closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I've missed this," she murmurs affectionately. "Missed you. Even though you were a bit distant today." Chris offers a weary smile, cupping her hands against his chest.

"I missed you too, you know that," he reassures her. "And I'm sorry... Let's say my job has been keeping me on my toes a lot, lately."

"I understand. No need to excuse yourself," she slowly leans back, pressing against the headboard as Chris' resumes to get ready. His eyes soon fall on a photo of Ava and Irene on the nightstand. Tenderly taking it in his hands, he smiles at the miniature version of Ava captured in the frame.

"That's your daughter, huh?" he asks as he looks down at the photograph.

Ava smiles and nods. "Yeah, that's her. My Irene."

"She looks just like you."

Ava acknowledges with a nod, cradling the photo in her hands. "I know. And if it weren't for her, I would have ended things with Aiden a long time ago. Maybe not even married him in the first place," she adds with a hint of bitterness as she lets a light chuckle.

Chris's smile fades slightly as the conversation shifts. Standing up, he begins to put on his shirt. "Are you sure about this? The divorce?"

"Mhm. It's done. We signed the papers yesterday. All that's left is waiting for the divorce to be finalized," she says, settling the picture frame back on her side of the nightstand. Chris takes a deep breath, reaching for his pants.

"I hope you won't regret it, Ava."

"The only thing that I regret doing is cheating on him. I may not love him but- I wouldn't want to be with someone else behind his back," Ava looks at Chris. "But I won't regret taking that divorce." she slowly stands up, the sheet still draped around her as she looks at Chris. "The ball is in your court now."

Chris' eyebrows twitch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that I'm clear from my part Chris. I need to know if..."

"If what?"

"If we can be what we used to be in the past."

Chris looks away, wrestling with internal conflict. Balancing work with personal life was always a challenge for him, especially now, as the captain of the B.S.A.A., a role that demands unwavering dedication to global safety. Though...how can he choose between saving lives and the woman who had held his heart for years?

"Ava-"

Their conversation comes to an abrupt pause, as Ava's phone buzzes with numerous notifications. Chris sighs in relief as she picks up her phone, finding seven missed calls from her sister.

"Shit.." Ava mutters, running her fingers through her hair before listening to the voicemails.

"Everything alright?" Chris asks, sliding on his coat.

"I don't know, but call it an upcoming sisterly drama," Ava replies, walking toward her chair to gather her clothes. "Think you can drop me off at my sister's house before you go? I'll give you the address."

----

Leon flicks the switch off, stepping out of his bedroom into the expanse of his luxurious apartment. Navigating to the living room, his eyes sharpen in on a bottle of whiskey and an already-used glass from earlier drinking.

Approaching the coffee table, his gaze shortly fixes on the empty glass before reaching for the bottle. Pouring a small amount, he takes a deliberate sip, savoring the rich warmth of the whiskey as he settles onto his couch.

Each gaze at his scarred palm, chest, or subtle lick on his lips is a reminder of her presence. The most recent memory of her intertwines with the gray recollections of his traumatic past. The desire to see her grows stronger as the days pass, yet a stubborn resolve urges him to let things remain as they are—complete silence from both sides.

Clenching his jaw, he downs the burning liquid in one swift gulp, his head lowering. Eyes closed, and a persistent thought continues to echo in his mind.

"You're not going," he mutters to himself defensively, his fingers lightly tightening around the glass.

----

Stepping out of his car, Leon stands right outside her house. Both hands gradually relax by his sides, and he takes a deep breath through his nose before launching towards the front door. Before long, he finds himself standing in front of it.

Lifting his hand, his pointer freezes right at the ringing button. A moment of hesitation after their last encounter creeps into him once again. The kiss, the harsh exchange of words the morning after, and the fear of possible betrayal overwhelm him, along with other obstacles: the effects of their current relationship and his trust in her.

But she needs to know that he actually remembers. Resolve any misunderstanding before feelings escalate any further. Pushing aside further contemplation, he presses the doorbell. Seconds pass in total stillness, and as expected, the door never opens. Leon sighs, looking down, and without overthinking, he presses the doorbell again. Still, he waits over nothing.

He huffs, glancing at the window. All lights are off. "Story of my life."

Turning on his heel, he begins retracing his steps towards his car. Suddenly, his phone rings. Lowering his brows, his instincts go on high alert the moment he sees Claire's contact calling him.

"Claire, everything okay?"

"Aye, Sanchooo! It's Luis, my friend." Luis' voice echoed from the other end, accompanied by background chatter. "Admit it, you missed me."

"Will I get the death penalty if I say no?" Leon stoically jests, unlocking the door of his car.

"Always a jokester."

"What is it, Luis?"

"I'm with Claire and Carlos at a bar. We wanted to relax and catch up. Care to join?"

The invitation seems tempting, not necessarily because of the company but due to the attraction of alcohol. Leon felt he needed it at the moment.

"I'll be there. Just give me the name of the bar."

"I will—first, let me ask you something. Do you have any work experience with children?"

Leon frowns in slight confusion, holding the car door open as he freezes. "What are you talking about?"

----

8:40 P.M

In the dimly lit corner of Ben's bar, an almost private silence envelops the four members of the group. While Irene chews her bite from the club sandwich, her full attention is dedicated to her drawing. The sound of the colorful pencil rubbing through the paper mingles with the background lively 90's music and chatter. 

To Irene's left sits Claire, offering assistance with her meal, while Leon occupies the seat to her right. Across the table, Carlos and Luis share a spot, observing the scene before them.

"Sooo... didn't know señorita became a waitress." Luis initiates a conversation, his eyes drifting towards (y/n) as she takes orders, a cigarette poised at his lips, ready to be lit. "And oh my, oh my. Doesn't she look fine?"

"Not in front of the kid," Leon responds low and defensively, snatching the cigarette away from Luis' lips with a deft motion.

Luis arches an eyebrow, chuckling and raising his hands in mock surrender as he leans back in his chair.

"You found the bar easily," Claire questions Leon, changing the topic. "Did you come here before?"

Leon, his gaze drifting towards the bar counter, recalls a faint yet intense memory, maintaining nonchalance. "Just once," he replies casually.

Curiosity then turns to Irene's artwork as Carlos points toward the drawing. "Who did you draw here, pip-squeak?" he asks Irene.

"This is you, my auntie, uncle Leon, and aunt Claire," Irene points with her small pointer on each figure.

Luis, eager to inspect the drawing, leans in, only to be met with a surprising revelation. "Let me have a look, pequeña dama." However, his amusement turns into slight disgust as he points to a distorted figure. "Who's this ugly pendejo

"That's you, Uncle Louis!" Irene with innocence clarifies.

Carlos and Claire snort into laughter at Irene's exclamation as Luis' smirk fades into a grumpy expression.

"You asked for it."

--

As you approach the counter, where Clay stands crafting drink orders, you steal another glance towards Irene's table to check up on her. Serendipitously, your eyes meet Leon's at the corner of his table, and an unintentional connection lingers for a few seconds before he diverts his attention to Irene, responding to her address. An hour has passed, marked with only meaningful glances and stares between you two.

This unspoken tension becomes unbearable.

Letting out a sigh, you set the tray before Clay. "One white wine and an orange juice."

Clay acknowledges with a nod and begins to skillfully craft the ordered drinks. Julia joins you with empty plates from customers.

"I'm so tired," she exhales, taking a seat on a stool for a moment's reprieve. Despite Clay's obvious attention directed towards Claire's table, he unexpectedly chuckles.

"Tough time with the handsome blonde over there?" he teases you, jerking his head towards Leon's table.

Your response is a puzzled, "What do you mean?"

Clay, wearing a smug grin, elaborates, "He's been shooting death stares over here ever since he walked in." How do you explain to Clay that this is simply Leon's default expression? 

Julia, overhearing the conversation, turns her head to join the banter between you and the bartender. "Who?" she asks, glancing around.

"The one where Claire sits," Clay replies.

As soon as her eyes land on Leon, Julia smirks, recalling his last visit to the bar. "Oh, would you look at that? Didn't expect the 'alcoholic' to be acquainted with your friend," she remarks, casually resting her elbows on the counter.

"Come on, don't label him like that," you interject, focusing on wiping the leftovers off of the plates to avoid making eye contact with Leon. Although...he is considered as an alcoholic.

"Yeah, you say that because you haven't seen how much he drank before you arrived. Downed a whole bottle of Heaven Hill in two hours."

Your eyes widen at the amount you hear he drank. And when you got at the bar, you also served him...yep. That kiss was surely a mistake. Your dad could be right in front of him that night, he'd kiss him too.

"Can you just please hurry with the drinks?" you plead Clay, feeling the need to get off from view. Julia catches on to something, her eyebrows furrowing as she looks at you. Though she remains silent, her expression changes.

Just as a customer raises their hand for service, making you stand up from the stool, Julia intervenes with a reassuring hand.

"I'll take care of this one. You go grab the clean glasses before you take the order." You nod at Julia's instructions before heading to the kitchen to gather the necessary supplies.

As you exit the kitchen, you spot your sister entering the bar, her eyes filled with anger as she searches for Irene. Under different circumstances, you might empathize with her frustration. While you're not thrilled about having Irene here either, it wasn't your first choice. But fuck no, she's not one to criticize, when she made it clear Irene would stay with you only for five. Fucking. Days.

Her another broken promise fuels your irritation as you approach Ava. "Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence," you greet her, your tone filled with irony. "Did you finally find your way back into town?"

"Why the hell did you bring Irene here, (y/n)?" Ava asks, ignoring your sarcasm.

"Because her mother was once again being irresponsible," you retort with frustration, your fingers tightening around the tray. "You promised five days, Ava. My days off were over, and I couldn't leave Irene alone. You have no right to be mad at me."

"You could have left her with a nanny, you know?"

"You know well that I'm tight with money right now."

"I'd pay her once I'd go to pick her up from your place."

"Oh, really? How was I supposed to know you'd be back today when I repeatedly called you, and you didn't bother to answer once?" you raise your voice at her. 

"I-..I was busy, okay?" Ava stammers from annoyance in response.

"So busy that you couldn't even give me a call?"

Ava sighs, her gaze scanning the room in search of Irene. It's then that you notice it—two exposed hickeys on the left side of her throat and just below her jawline. You huff in disbelief.

"Oh, now I get what you meant by 'busy'," you say, looking at Ava with a mixture of incredulity and anger. "Busy cheating on Aiden again." You point towards the marks on her neck.

"Aiden and I broke up, and soon, officially divorced," Ava responds, crossing her arms. "But if I was a virgin at 23, I'd act like a bitch too."

You clench your jaw at the remark. At least it makes you both even to this turned-to-be insulting competition. "Fuck you, Ava."

"Fuck you too." 

Both of you avert your gazes, Ava heading towards the table where Irene is with the rest, while you make your way to the counter bar.

Another one added to your list, where you had a fight. Though this, is the calmest argument you ever had with her.

Returning to your duties, you discreetly observe Ava reuniting with Irene and engaging in a conversation with the team. The minutes pass by peacefully, yet an unexplained nervousness dwells as you notice her standing in close proximity to Leon. Surprisingly, the atmosphere remains calm, with Luis smirking and rising slowly from his seat. He extends his hand to your sister, activating his charming smirk. Jesus Christ—

--

"Luis Serra, mi hermosa," Luis charmingly stands up, taking Ava's hand and offering her knuckles a knightly kiss. "Why is everyone in this family so breathtaking?"

"She's married, hold your horses," Carlos interjects, firmly grasping Luis's arm and guiding him back into his seat.

"Ah, the older sister is taken too, eh?"

Ava furrows her eyebrows. "Why? Who else is taken?"

"That rose between us thorns," Luis poetically remarks, gesturing with a gaze towards (y/n). Ava follows his line of sight, bursting into laughter as she realizes who he's referring to.

"Are we sure we're talking about the same person? Because the girl I see over there dates only mentally," Ava shamelessly exposes, causing Leon's eyes to instinctively shift toward Claire. Although caught by her gaze, Leon remains stoic and unmoved. Luis raises an eyebrow.

"Nonsense! When she first treated me, and I asked her to get dinner with me, she said—" Luis's words trail off as realization slowly dawns on him. Claire's lips curl into a smile, which she tries to conceal, while Carlos sighs and shakes his head. "Dios...ah!" Luis dramatically places a hand against his chest, pretending to be in pain. "I got...rejected?"

"You'll live." Carlos gives Luis a consoling pat on the back. "Ava, will you stay for a drink?"

"As much as I'd love to stay, I have to take this little Picasso home," Ava smiles warmly at Irene. "Come on, let's go." Irene nods, carefully gathering her pencils and papers. Leon steps in to assist, slowly helping her organize her belongings and slipping her small backpack onto her shoulders.

"Thank you, uncle Leon." 

"You're welcome," Leon cracks a gentle smile as Irene reaches for Ava's hand.

"Thank you so much for looking after her," Ava expresses her gratitude.

"Don't mention it, Ava. Don't be a stranger," Claire adds.

"Buh-bye!" Irene waves cheerfully at everyone as Ava holds her free hand.

"Goodbye, Irene," Claire coos, the rest of the group joining in the farewell. A faint smile briefly appears on Leon's lips, disappearing the moment he sees Ava walking away with Irene.

--

"Bye, auntie! See you on Sunday!" Irene's enthusiastic farewell reaches your ears, and you chuckle in response, nodding and waving as she leaves the bar. Turning your attention to the teams' table, and drinks on the tray, you are ready to serve them now that Irene is not around. Six days after separation, you are going to face Leon for the first time today.

The moment you reach their table, you begin to hand the Gin Tonic to Claire, and two nice frozen beers to Luis and Carlos. 

"That's what I'm talking about," Carlos grins, fingers drum before he takes the offered drink, while Luis finally gets to light up his cigarette.

"Gracias, cariño (thank you, baby)," Luis teases, taking the second bottle with an unexpectedly flirty wink. You nod as 'welcome' before your attention then shifts to Leon, extending the glass of neat vodka in his direction. All these looks from afar, yet up close, not a single glance is made to his direction.

Claire, noticing the tension, smiles at you before redirecting her gaze to Leon. With his head lowered and eyes fixed on the dark chocolate brown table, she playfully remarks, "What happened to hello?" You hum in question. "Leon's here."

Your eyebrows twitch uncomfortably at her observation. Gathering courage, you steal a glance at Leon and manage a strained, "Yeah. Hi."

"Hey," Leon stoically greets back, still avoiding eye contact, accepting the glass into his hand.

The awkward exchange doesn't escape the notice of the rest of the crew. A heavy silence settles over the table, amplifying the tension between you and Leon.

"Anyways, uh... if you guys need anything else, just call me," you finally say, gathering Irene's half-empty plate and glass and heading back to the counter to serve the next orders. The discomfort in the air is just too much to handle.

Before you can retreat completely, the same guy who called for Julia lifts two fingers, motioning for you to approach. Placing the empty tray against your stomach, you walk towards the small group at the table. An accidental eye contact is made with Leon again until both of you break away—Leon turning to Claire and Carlos, and you to the group that has summoned you.

"What can I bring you?" you ask, forcing a smile.

"Get us two tequilas," the man requests kindly, though his hand slowly reaches and touches your lower back, causing your smile to vanish instantly at the unwarranted contact. "And get something for yourself to drink as well. You seem to overwork yourself," his hand discreetly lowers just a bit. Your face flushes red, and you feel extremely uncomfortable. Julia's warning about those...'wandering' hands wasn't an overstatement.

The urge to kick this guy in the fucking balls boils in you. 

Instead, you deftly move backward, causing his hand to drop. His other two friends seem to giggle like idiotic teenagers. Clearing your throat, you wrestle with how to respond to this inappropriate situation. "I'll go get your order."

--

Leon's fingers gradually tighten around the rim of his glass as he observes the uncomfortable interaction. His body stiffens, sinking deeper into his seat. Before long, he watches her hurriedly enter the kitchen. Shifting his gaze to the tipsy yet arrogant customer, Leon barely pays attention to the ongoing conversation between Carlos, Claire, and Luis. The earlier, inappropriate exchange plays out in his mind, and his gaze remains unwavering as he focuses on the guy's hands, meticulously calculating each move as he reaches for his drink.

"Leon, are you okay?"Claire's concerned voice interrupts Leon's silent scrutiny. "You seem off today. Barely talked."

"It would be surprising if he talked." Luis jests, triggering a chuckle from Carlos. Leon disregards their banter, adjusting his jacket before unexpectedly rising from his seat. Their laughter cuts sharp to his sudden movement. 

"Where are you going?" Carlos inquires, but Leon disregards the question, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes fixed on the man at the specific table. Without much hesitation, he begins to walk towards the group's table. Luis, Claire, and Carlos follow his actions with curious gazes.

"Not a very gentlemanly way to treat a woman, you know," Leon's voice cuts through upon reaching the table, grabbing the small group's attention. The guys turn around slowly to look up at him. "Especially at her workplace," he remarks, his disapproval evident.

The man remains silent for a moment before dismissing Leon by ignoring him, turning to his friend, and laughing. Leon clenches his jaw.

"I'm talking to you!" he raises his voice, grabbing the man's arm with force, compelling him to stand up immediately.

"Keep those fucking hands to yourself, or we will have a problem pal," the man threatens, prompting his friends to stand up as well. Carlos and Luis mirror the action, ready to intervene the moment they see Leon dangerously close to the guy. The sudden tension captures the attention of a few people in the bar's crowd.

Leon, however, remains muted and composed. He shows no signs of intimidation by the customer's ineffective threat. His gaze speaks volumes, though the guy seems oblivious to the unspoken warning.

"Now that the lady will walk out of that door, you will apologize," Leon demands.

"Leon—" Carlos begins, placing his hand on Leon's shoulder, but his words are barely acknowledged.

"Be the one to 'keep those dirty hands' away from the waitresses, and walk out this bar peacefully. Is that clear?"

"You want them on you instead?" the man taunts, shoving Leon hard enough to make him and Carlos behind him stumble backward a bit. "Come on. Get out of my face," he pushes Leon away again, this time with more force. It's all it takes for Leon to snap.

Leon after a brief glance away, exhales sharply through his nose and his jaw clenching. In an instant, he grabs the man by the collar of his jacket, shoving him against the table. The drinks spill and crash on to the floor, gasps of shock and surprise echo in the background from the onlookers. Luis and Carlos immediately take action to rush after Leon and intervene before things get much worse.

"Leon, stop!"Carlos shouts, wrapping his arms around Leon's torso in an attempt to pull him away. Simultaneously, one of the man's friends seizes an empty beer bottle and strikes it against Leon's face.

----

"Oh what an asshole." Julia exclaims, clearly unimpressed, as you try to collect yourself.

"Right in front of everyone. And his other two brainless friends were just laughing." you mutter, burning with quiet rage.

"And I thought him whispering dirty shit to me was bad," Julia says, placing the glasses into the sink and wiping her hands dry on the apron. Meanwhile, you carefully place the tray beside her on the counter, your hands trembling.

You should have punched that guy. But of course, once again, you froze. Always on the worst times.

"Hey relax..Just stay here. I'll tell Clay to kick them out." Julia reassures you, giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze. You nod tightly, watching her shed the apron as you start swapping the dirty glasses with clean ones, preparing to take them back into the bar.

As Julia heads towards the door, the sound of shattering glass and uproar echoes from outside the bar. She pauses, and you exchange puzzled glances before hurrying outside, with Julia trailing behind.

You burst through the kitchen doors and are met with a chaotic scene. Carlos wrestling with Leon, who has a death grip on the guy who thought your ass was too good to not touch. Leon's face is wearing some scratches, blood dribbling from his lips. Meanwhile, Clay attempts to pry the customer away from Leon's wrath, blood decorating the guy's nose.

Your body freezes, eyes widening in shock, and Julia rushes toward the huge commotion, trying to intervene. You're left speechless and clueless about what to do.

"What in the actual hell..." you murmur in disbelief.

"Get away from me, dipshit!" the guy slurs, as one of his buddies shoves Julia to the ground. Claire gasps, rushing to Julia's aid, and you move to join them, utterly lost for words.

"Shut it!" Leon snarls, landing another punch on the guy's already battered face.

"Who did you just push, you coño?!" Luis chimes in, slapping the friend on the head repeatedly. "Let me take you out for dinner later to help you recover!" he suggests, looking down at Julia. Is this guy serious right now?

"For crying out loud, Luis, read the room!" Carlos shouts as he finally succeeds in pulling Leon away from the slightly beaten customer.

----

9:01 P.M

You elicit a restrained hiss from Leon as the wet gauze makes contact with his split lip, tracing the line of a deep scratch that faintly extends to his cheekbone.

"Luckily, the cut is not severe. It will be bruised for the next few days, but you'll be alright by the end of the upcoming week," you state clinically, tapping the gauze against the small yet painful wound. Your other hand cradles his face gently, fingers supporting his chin. Leon remains motionless, eyes lowered, fixed on the counter across from him, maintaining a stoic silence. You discreetly glance at his lightly fisted hand, stained with blood. Without a word, you return your focus to his lips before moving slowly to his cheek and cheekbone.

You want to ask what happened back there, why was he beating up that asshole, but will he even tell you? You know him well by now. Plus, you're still mad at him for how ungratefully he treated you almost a week back at your place. If you were a total bitch, you would kick him out in this messed-up state. But after all this, you're not a person to come to that position to do this.

Breaking from your reverie, you discard the bloody gauze as Leon subtly licks the inside of his chin, wincing in mild pain. "All ready."

"Thanks," he grunts lightly. As Leon leans back, you start stowing away the medical supplies. His thumb grazes lightly over his bottom lip, gaze fixed on the floor, back pressed against the wall. "Thought you wouldn't want me around, after last time."

You pause your movements, scoffing softly. "After all those months working together, it seems you really don't know me at all."

Leon lifts his eyes and looks at your figure. For a moment, the stern mask sputters as he contemplates your words. Then, he shifts lightly, his hands dangling between his knees. 

"Maybe I don't," he responds quietly, a hint of irritation stirring his voice in response to your pointed remark. "Because things change. People too, and it's been a while since we saw each other."

"It's been only six days."

"Doesn't matter. It can take even a minute for someone to change."

He's not entirely wrong. In your case, it only took one mission.

Your gaze drops to his lap, head bowed. "...Does it hurt?"

"Had been worse. Nothing I can't handle," he rasps, his palm lightly rubbing his thigh. His gaze averts, and a deep sigh escapes through his nose. "Sorry for...this. Shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"You really shouldn't, but," you say, your fingers slowly closing the small first aid kit. "I'm actually glad you kicked this dude's ass. Idiot was asking for it with such behavior..." your words fade, not wishing to tell him further. Although you believe that this is the reason Leon attacked him in the first place. It can't be such a coincidence.

But why go so violent at him?

The box clicks shut, and an uneasy quiet settles between you. Neither of you can find the right words, trapped in a space where discussions about Cuba, the team, his struggles with alcoholism, or the confusing incident of the kiss seem..impossible. It's obvious that this is eating you inside. But you can't do anything about it.

Only this usual stillness with him is the only conversation you can have with him now on.

"Anyways, thanks again," Leon's voice breaks the tense silence, slowly reaching for his jacket and standing up. "I should let you get back to your work."

You nod, your eyes not leaving the small white, metallic box, while Leon approaches the exit. Another time where he leaves, without giving and getting any explanation. You're not mad about it. Better for this to stay buried...

As his hand reaches for the kitchen door, his steps abruptly cease. His face drops to the floor, and after a brief pause, he releases the handle.

"Look, we need to talk," he declares suddenly, causing you to look up in surprise. "About that night at your place."

Your palms start to sweat at the unexpected mention of that night, barely a week ago. Your blood seems to drain from your head, but you attempt to maintain a facade of confidence.

"Listen, all I did was offer you somewhere safe to stay the night because you were extremely drunk. I got the message: you don't want any help, and it won't be repeated," you say, deliberately steering the conversation into shallow waters. The kiss? Not mentioned once. 

"That's not what I want to talk about," he pauses, his eyes briefly glancing at your lips before returning to your gaze. "I might have drank a lot, but I wasn't that drunk. So I sure as hell remember everything that happened before dawn."

A frown creases your forehead, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. He can't remember, can he? "What do you mean? Because other than that, nothing—"

"I shouldn't have kissed you," he boldly cuts you off, his words struggling to find their way out. An awkward pause lingers before he continues, "It was wrong of me to do that. We both regret it, but don't feed me the crap that it never happened."

The hot red heat rises to your cheeks, and you desperately avoid meeting Leon's intense gaze. The direct confrontation sends a wave of discomfort, making you feel as if you're suffocating. You swallow hard, realizing that he remembers. He actually remembers—it.

But you both regret it? Or he regrets it? Because from your side, you surely don't.

Internally, panic sets in for a moment. Your mind races through scenarios of how he might further confront you about the kiss when he was intoxicated. And can't allow that to happen. You want to protect your feelings.

"What are you talking about? We didn't kiss, Leon," you say, though you're not sure why. Your denial is too obvious for Leon to believe, and it only serves to make his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

Moving closer, he stops a foot in front of you. His expression drops, and his face hardens, questioning your blunt statement.

"Look at me and say that again."

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest, your mouth suddenly dry. The seconds pass, each one feeling like an eternity, as you hesitate to utter a word about that damn moment. "Leon..." you begin as you rise to your feet, but your voice trails off when you meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes pierce through you, and for a quick moment, his features soften as he scrutinizes every single detail of your facial features. You stay silent, not noticing how close he gets with his gradual steps.

"Say it," he demands, though the order comes out weaker this time.

His eyes undergo a drastic transformation, conveying guilt, need, pain, and internal conflict. Both of you lean in slowly, until his lips ghost onto yours. Without hesitation, you close the remaining distance, pressing your lips on his swollen ones. The metallic taste of blood coats the corner of your bottom lip. Your mind spins, but the intoxicating moment overrides any logical thought in you.

The kiss deepens, and you feel the tension slowly melting away, replaced by a raw, unfiltered desire. A silent confession between you and him. In that moment, the bar, the fight, and the world outside stop existing, leaving only the two of you. His head angles, both lips beginning to move in slow and sweet synchronization, stirring a tornado of butterflies in your stomach and lungs. But just as you feel the magnetic pull of the kiss consuming you, Leon gently pulls away, eyes open to study your reaction. Silence. The only thing you hear is the chatter outside, the music, and the fridge's buzzing sound.

Your fingers instinctively touch your lips, and as you meet Leon's gaze, a nervous swallow follows. Leon, too, seems momentarily taken aback, a hint of surprise evident in his eyes. Slowly stepping back, he breaks eye contact once more, trying to grapple his own actions. 

"W-what was that?" you whisper.

"I don't know," he confesses, his words barely audible over the outside ambient noise. The atmosphere between you becomes charged with an awkward tension. "Do you?" he asks quietly.

You find yourself troubled to respond. You were not prepared for this. Leon's cautious shell struggles to keep up, you can clearly see that, but you also battle to let go of yourself. Stay guarded.

"We should wonder instead why did it happen...again?" you murmur, raising a question that hangs in the air, making Leon step back. He looks at you troubled, his walls begin to crumble gradually, each brick succumbing to the weight of the moments that keep on unfolding with you. A nervous swallow traverses down your throat. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, the kitchen door opens, having you immediately put a safe distance.

"You're good now, Clay kicked the group out-" Julia's words cut off abruptly as she notices the awkward silence and tense body language between you and Leon. "Did I interrupt something?"

Leon wearily turns to his side, resuming his quiet demeanor, seemingly processing your question. His facial features betray nothing.

"No. No, we were done. He was just leaving." You say, not giving Leon the chance to react. Not that he would, either way. He looks at you, not a single muscle of his face moving, though you can see the disbelief and disappointment in his eyes since you literally kick him out after what just happened, leaving the important question hanging. His gaze, familiar and unforgettable, lingers on you for a moment before he silently exits the kitchen. With a heavy sigh, you lean against the counter.

"Well, well, well would you look at that," Julia comments with a smirk, her arms crossed as she leans against the counter. Your movements become slower as you stash the first aid kit back into the cabinet and return to the sink.

"What is it?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You seemed pretty.. close with that customer when I walked in." Julia observes with a hint of amusement.

"Well... I used to be a nurse, as I've mentioned before. I had to treat his wound; being close was part of the job,"

"That's not what I meant. First, he can't take his eyes off you at the bar, then he goes and beats up the guy who groped you," Julia purposely pauses, teasing her nails along the tray's edge. "And now you seem all...flustered."

Clearing your throat, you look away momentarily. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just did my job."

Julia nods knowingly, satisfied with the answers she's gleaned.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Just... make sure to wipe the blood from your lips before you head out," Julia teases, pointing at the corner of her lip. Embarrassed, you quickly swipe it away with your thumb as she gracefully exits the kitchen.

Oh, Leon...

Turning back to the counter, your fingers lightly tighten around the cold steel. An indescribable sensation flutters inside your chest, sending shivers down your spine. You can't ignore it any longer. No matter how hard you've tried to resist, every encounter with him strengthens the inevitable truth.

You're falling for him.

----

Leon strides out of the kitchen, each step echoing with a heavy weight towards the table where Claire, Luis, and Carlos sit in awkward silence, the earlier enjoyable atmosphere completely shattered by the escalated fight.

Upon reaching their table, Claire's eyes light up with an unusual glimmer of hope.

"Senorita patched you up good, eh?" Luis remarks, taking a swig of his beer, only to get ignored. Claire's hope fades the moment Leon wordlessly pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, tossing a few crumpled bills onto the table.

Carlos arches an eyebrow, looking up. "What are you doing?" he asks.

"Leaving." Leon firmly says, shoving the wallet back into his back pocket. Without bidding a farewell, he begins to stride towards exit of the bar. Passing and bumping by the crowd, while Claire, Luis, and Carlos remain seated back at their table, changing looks of confusion.

Claire's gaze shifts to the kitchen door where (y/n) appears, not casting a single glance at their way. Carrying a tray towards the bar's counter, she seems to be troubled. Claire quickly grasps the tense situation that probably transpired between them and stands up, following Leon towards the exit.

"Leon...Leon!" Claire calls out as she hurries behind him.

"I have no clue what's going on." Carlos sighs, taking a pull of his beer.

"Isn't it obvious?" Luis asks, his playful demeanor vanishing. A genuine, lopsided smile briefly crosses his lips as he directs his attention toward the bar. But, all too soon, it disappears, his fingers hugging the glass in a meditative manner.

Claire rushes out, catching sight of Leon pulling out his keys as he heads towards his car. Following his way, she positions herself just as he's about to open the car door, placing her hand against it to keep it closed. "Where you're going?"

For a moment, Leon pauses, his fingers lingering on the cold metal handle. With an inaudible sigh, he turns to face her expectant stare.

"Does it matter?" his gaze remains fixed somewhere over her shoulder, unwilling to meet her eyes. "I just need some air." Not waiting for Claire's response, he attempts to open the door again, but her hand on it hampers his movements. His wounded lips press thin, revealing impatience. "What?"

Claire tilts her head. "What happened with (y/n) in there?"

"Nothing happened," 

She slowly crosses her arms. "You told her?"

"Told her what?"

"That you have feelings for her." Her blunt question strikes Leon. "Even Luis figured. When are you going to realize and admit it to yourself at least?" she asks, taking a small step closer.

Leon looks away, going silent for a second. "Feelings?" he scoffs. Claire shakes her head at his constant denial.

"Leon, come on-"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Leon cuts her off sharply. "There's nothing between me and (y/n), so let's drop it, yeah?"

Claire shakes her head, her hands dropping in surrender as she takes a step backward. "Okay. You're free to go," she says, jerking her hand towards his car. Heading back into the bar, she stops just inside the entrance, and turns around to his direction. "You keep clinging to the past, and you'll never move forward. Goodnight, Leon," she adds with a touch of coolness before pushing the bar's door to enter.

Leon watches Claire slowly disappear into the crowd, becoming indistinguishable among the customers. As he slides into the driver's seat, his weary eyes meet his reflection in the rearview mirror. The split lip and scratched cheek serve as visible reminders of feelings, too guarded to surface.

Turning the key, the engine hums to life. Before driving away, Leon casts one last glance at the bar, lingering at the windows, before he drives away, disappearing into the night...

----

9:15 P.M

"Maintaining the secrecy of your team was a crucial aspect of the mission, Redfield," the B.S.A.A.'s General asserts, reclining back in his seat. "Your unfortunate encounter with Umbrella means that they're now fully aware of the B.S.A.A.'s involvement. So now it's most necessary for you to call in everyone who was included in the mission in Cuba."

"Everyone? What do you mean?" Chris asks the General, visibly concerned, with Piers standing by his side, sharing the same worry.

The General points at the documents on the table. "Your team should not have disbanded, especially now that Umbrella is fully aware of your presence. You cannot afford to break apart until we are certain the threat is neutralized," he emphasizes with sweeping hand gestures.

Piers crosses his arms. "And what about the parasite?"

"If Dr. Serra's suspicions about Umbrella's possessions are accurate, then the capture of the suitcase proves a failure, and you with your team, Chris, now carry a bounty on your head,"

Chris leans forward, his hands firmly placed on the General's desk. "So, you're saying that my team and I could be marked as 'wanted' by Umbrella?"

The General offers a nonchalant shrug. "Possibly. I don't want to make hypotheses without factual evidence. Given that it's been 74 days without any signs of an invasion, I'd like to believe that your team isn't currently in immediate danger. But, of course, that's just speculation."

All those months, and they accomplished nothing. The danger is still there.

 "Your mission now is to protect the citizens, Redfield. Innocent lives have already been lost to The Iluminados and their virus. We can't afford more casualties at the hands of an evil corporation."

Chris sighs and nods curtly in response, acknowledging the heavy weight of responsibility he now holds. "You are free to go." With that, he turns on his heel, striding purposefully out of the General's office, Piers following closely.

"What's your conclusion to this, Captain?"

Chris, with a determined expression, responds, "Call my sister and reach out to everyone by dawn." He announces decisively, striding purposefully towards the team's base. "The team needs to be back together."

----

Had to remove two scenes or else it would be an hour-long chapter again, so I'm sorry if this chapter seems rushed or the scene changes seem off. I try my best to make the chapters shorter so I won't tire anyone out! Unless you enjoy them, idk! XD

Have a great and lovely day and remember....TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! <3