As soon as I step into the bar I'm greeted by the dim lighting, bustle of drunken bodies and the scent of leather and sweat. I beeline around the crowded tables and stumbling groups and head straight for the bar. Thankfully there's a lone seat left at the end, the darkened corner provides me safety from prying eyes or oppressive conversation. I put through an order for something strong then shrug off my jacket, letting out a long sigh. It's been one of those weeks, and I'd hoped things would get better for the weekend but things only seem to getting worse. A drink is what I need, that and maybe a distraction once I've got enough alcohol in my system.
"Yeah, I know that look." The much older man mumbles from beside me. I swallow, hyping myself up for lusty filled eyes and wandering hands. Instead when I look at him I'm met by a look that mirrors my own; mental exhaustion. I can't help but to already feel a sense of understanding, something I didn't even know I needed. I nod, not bothering to muster a fake smile as I pay for my drink.
"Rough week too?" I offer, heavily sipping my drink as the man nods slowly, staring down into his glass of whiskey.
"More like rough life," He mumbles, adding a small laugh, "but we're not here to talk about it, right? We both came here to avoid our troubles and run away from the things we should be facing." His dark blue eyes find mine. I feel my lips lift just a little as I raise my glass in a toast. The man chuckles, clinking his glass against my own before setting it down and ordering another round for both of us. I have no idea how much time passes of us talking about everything other than our lives, we go on for hours, I begin to feel lighter, mostly due to the drinks the man, Leon, keeps buying us. We take it in turns to complain about everything and have a pity party for two, trapped within our own bubble of empathy and feeling wanted. It's the closest thing I can get to free therapy.
Somehow I find myself at his apartment in the dead of night, but nothing we do is even close to being still and forgotten. Our bodies intertwine as he holds me down and fucks me like he loves me. We take it in turns rolling about, laughing drunkenly as we grip and grope each other, pleading and whining as we reach our peaks. We go through more positions than I have fingers, and every single one brings me the blissfulness of forgetting. Leon groans out my name like a prayer when I'm on my knees, I cry out to God when he worships me. It's a passionate affair full of something we both needed. But it only lasts the night. In the morning I sneak a glance at Leon lying on his stomach, dark hair flopped over his face as he lightly snores, arm reached out towards me as if hesitating to hold me but gave up halfway. I debate staying, wondering if this is love that I feel, that feeling of being listened to and desired, but then I think back to last night and Leon's confession that he only wanted to forget for a while. I leave without leaving a mark. It would be like I was never there.
Life goes on after that night, it begins to get better by the time Monday rolls around, but I can't ignore the way my heart aches for the man I knew for a single night. Weeks pass of feeling sick and nauseous, until finally my mind catches up to the denial I've been experiencing. I buy a pregnancy test and find out one afternoon that I'm expecting. It feels like a bucket of water tips over my head, drowning me in shock and a sense of not being ready. I debate for days what to do, I don't have Leon's number, I didn't think he was in any state to commit or even be able to look after himself, yet alone start a relationship. How will he react when he finds out I'm having his baby? I pace my home, until I finally realise I'm a ticking time bomb, in nine months everything I know will change, my world will never be the same, and I can either do it alone or with someone who could help me.
I snatch my keys from the counter and drive to his apartment, but when I knock on his door I find he's not home. I begin to shake, body trembling as hot tears trickle down my cheeks, I'm panicking and feel too overwhelmed. I've got nobody else to support me, so I wait. I sit for minutes, which turns to an hour, which soon turns to two before I hear footsteps approach me. I look up from where I'm slumped against his door, seeing Leon waver on his feet, his eyes are bloodshot and he gives me that grin that made me fall for him in the first place. "Came back for another night of...wait, are you crying?" He says, crouching down as that flirt is replaced with concern. I nod, wiping my eyes and standing as Leon reaches out to help me. He doesn't speak a he unlocks his door and gestures for me to go in. I follow the same footsteps I did that first night, stopping at the sofa as Leon closes the door behind him and watches me in the same way he'd watch an injured animal.
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YOU ARE READING
𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4
Fanfic18+ Due to explicit content! Book Four of Leon Kennedy X Fem!Reader imagines. All imagines are at least 600 words and will include fluff, angst, smut and various AU'S. If you've been following me you'll know that this is my final Leon Kennedy book...