Stalemate | LEON S. KENNEDY

Prolouge

You hated Mondays. They were the only day of the week that required you and Leon to interact for more than five minutes at a time. Partner training. What a pain in the ass.

It was bad enough that you still had to go on missions with that...that...ugh, your brain wasn't really full of insults at the moment. It was even worse that you had to do training exercises with him. You'd taken to doing most everything on your own.

But you don't want it that way.

No, no. You were perfectly fine on your own. You didn't need that backstabbing asshole. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

You took in a big hit from the cigarette you were currently enjoying, and hung your head over the balcony railing as you exhaled. The smoke burned your eyes, but you'd gotten used to it. You imagined what Leon would say, picturing his voice as you inhaled again.

"You need to stop smoking so much. You'll become addicted."

You didn't care anymore. This was your vice. You had come to terms with it, and that was that.

As you tried and failed to push away the thoughts of your partner, a familiar voice called from behind. You heard a door close, and heavy footsteps approached your side. Only one person would dare to join you on this particular balcony at such an hour.

"Hey, Logan," You waved lazily, cigarette in hand.

Logan chuckled, patting you harshly on the back with a grin.

"How's it go, Smokey? Got a light?"

You rolled your eyes as he retrieved a cigar from a box in his pocket, and flicked on your lighter to light it. You watched the flame for a moment, noticing how the light illuminated Logan's scars.

"So, what's got your knickers in a twist, kid? You've got a face," He offered, sticking the cigar in his mouth without so much as a glance to you.

Your nose scrunched into a scowl as you took a hit from your own cig.

"What? There's no face. I don't have a face!"

"You do," Logan replied, puffing smoke into your face as a sign of indignation, "You've got that 'I'm about to fuck shit up' face."

You coughed, waving away the cigar smoke that smelled like absolute ass. Logan was right, though. He always was. Training today had gotten to you more than usual, and even you didn't know the exact reason why.

"I don't know. I guess maybe I'm just frustrated at Kennedy," You sighed, wincing mentally at the fact that you refused to refer to him by his first name.

Logan hummed inquisitively, looking out to the reddish-purple horizon deep in thought. He took another hit off his cigar and let the smoke trickle out of his nose.

"Why are you two so distant an' sour to each other? I heard you used to make one hell of a team," He glanced over to you, eyes scanning. You wondered what he was looking for.

It hurt to hear Logan mention the past, but you figured you might as well tell somebody. Smoking buddies were sacred, you decided.

You inhaled a massive puff of smoke from your cigarette. You were going to need a lot of vice for this.

"We used to be...close. But, we weren't the same after the incident." You began, refusing to meet Logan's gaze as you spoke.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard about the incident here and there. It's pretty much a campfire legend now at base, but I never received the pleasure of hearing the full story," Logan said, obviously amused at the idea of finally getting to hear the tale.