No strings attached / Leon s. Kennedy

Chapter 2

As I trudge through another day of enduring Leon's company, a sense of frustration and exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me. Working alongside him has become increasingly unbearable, his presence like a constant thorn in my side. If I have to endure this for much longer, I fear I might lose my sanity altogether.

Today was no exception. Every interaction with Leon feels like a battle, his snide remarks and condescending attitude wearing down my patience with each passing moment. I can't fathom how I'm expected to babysit him for the foreseeable future, a task that feels more like a punishment than a responsibility.

Our routine of exchanging pleasantries at the end of the workday has long since dissolved into bitter silence. It's clear that any attempt at civility would only devolve into pointless arguments and petty mockery.

When my shift finally ends, I'm desperate for some respite. Stepping into the local bar, I hope to unwind and escape the day's frustrations. However, my plans for a quiet evening are immediately thwarted when I see Leon sitting alone at the counter.

Great, just what I needed. I pause at the entrance, debating whether to leave, but I quickly dismiss the idea. I refuse to let him dictate my actions. With a resigned sigh, I make my way to the counter and take a seat next to him.

"All alone? Poor you," I say, taking a sip of my drink, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Leon glances at me, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "You're one to talk, aren't you? If you want my company, just say so."

I roll my eyes, noticing the slightly glazed look in his eyes—clearly, he's already had a bit to drink. Yet, he holds another glass in his hand, swirling the liquid around with a contemplative air. It's strange to see him like this, off-guard and out of the usual work environment.

"I don't like you very much," I say bluntly, setting my empty glass down with a thud. "In fact, I hate babysitting you at work." I motion to the bartender for another drink, my irritation palpable.

Leon chuckles, the sound low and mocking. "You're so pretentious, sweetheart," he replies, finishing his glass and standing up. "Acting like you're doing me a favor." He slips off his jacket, placing it casually on the chair he was sitting on. "The feeling is mutual, by the way," he adds, his tone dismissive.

I watch him disappear down the hallway, unable to deny that he's attractive, and he certainly knows it. It's infuriating how effortlessly he gets under my skin, both at work and here. As I sip my fresh drink, I can't help but wonder what Hughes was thinking, putting us together.

Who does he think he is, talking to me like that? I've always had trouble making friends, my absolute sass a barrier, especially with guys like him. I watch as Leon leaves the bathroom, downing my third glass of alcohol. The warmth spreads through me, loosening my inhibitions. I rise from my seat, my steps a bit unsteady, and make my way over to him.

"Actually, Mr. Kennedy, I am doing you a favor!" I blurt out, my words slurring slightly. "Do you really think you'd have this job without my help?"

Leon looks me straight in the eyes, his eyebrow arching in that infuriatingly confident way. "I'm sure if not you, someone else would be babysitting me," he replies evenly, his tone dismissive.

"That's not the point," I continue, my voice rising with frustration. "The point is, I know you have skeletons in your closet. There's no way the famous Stratcom agent, who saved the president's daughter, would work for us!"

Leon's hand suddenly grips my chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. Anger smolders in his eyes as he leans in close. "You've got a problem? I'm sure we can fix it," he scoffs, his touch sending a surge of heat through me. My cheeks flush crimson, embarrassment mingling with irritation.