Sinful | Leon Kennedy

Chapter 20 - Aftermath

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"...Looks like you really did it, after all." You quietly remark.

"We did it," Leon corrects you, making you look at him.

Turning his head slightly, his eyes hold yours. Beneath the dirt, his quietness, his hardened gaze, you see tenderness battling with guilt, want, thoughts he can't express, and actions he desires to take...Yet, something appears to restrain him once more.

"Is your leg any better?" Leon suddenly asks with unexpected softness in his voice. You shake your head, blinking rapidly as you clear your throat, captivated by the concern in his eyes.

"Yeah- it's fine," you murmur as both of you look down at your treated leg. "Hercules took good care of me, thankfully."

"(y/n), Claire needs you for a bit! The stitches are causing her pain," Carlos suddenly calls from inside the cabin, breaking the closeness.

"Coming," you reply before cautiously attempting to rise. Leon extends a hand, and you accept it, leveraging yourself up. "Thanks."

"Welcome," he murmurs before you turn and take slow, deliberate steps toward the cabin. "(y/n)?" he suddenly calls, making you halt your steps and turn towards him. He sits in brief silence, eyes on your silhouette, contemplating once again whether he should reveal what's really on his mind. "...Nothing."

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9:22 P.M

"One Vodka on the rocks, and one Bloody Mary for table 5," Clay, the bartender, announces, placing the glasses on the waiting tray. You snap out of your daydream, giving a quick nod of acknowledgment. Balancing the tray, you move towards the table and carefully deliver the drinks to the awaiting couple.

"Enjoy," you say, offering a subtle smile to the customers, before moving to clear the empty glasses from nearby tables.

As the tray fills up, you navigate through the lively crowd, heading into the kitchen where Julia, your fellow waitress, is engrossed in washing glasses and dishes. As you place the tray beside her on the counter, she lets a frustrated groan.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she mutters, shutting off the sink with a bit of aggression.

"Um, I can take over if you want," you offer, awkwardly scratching the side of your neck.

Washing strangers' spit is the last thing you would want, but it's much preferable than having the anxiety not to spill the drinks, and the most important? Having not to deal, but interact with the customers.

"Ugh, I owe you," Julia says, placing the sponge down and drying her hands. You switch roles, securing the apron around yourself and taking the soapy glass, while Julia decides to take a small break and leans against the counter, watching you. "Fridays and Saturdays are the worst, I swear. Running back and forth with filled trays, piled up dishes, a bunch of drunk idiots ordering alcohol like it's water every five seconds, and some desperate shits groping or flirting with you at any chance they'll get."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. Well shit...is this what you'll have to deal with? "Oh..Really?..."

"Yeah, so since you're new here, better be aware of wandering hands." She casually advises.

You let out an awkward chuckle, responding, "I'll definitely keep that in mind," as you begin scrubbing the glass with the sponge.

"Girls, people are waiting to order!" Clay's voice echoes from the bar, making Julia to sigh and reluctantly rise from the counter.