Leon Kennedy

Foreword

NOTE:

WARNING: Not suitable for young readers or sensitive minds. The story contains graphic sex scenes, adult language and situation/s intended for mature readers only.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

❮ Read at your own risk ❯

DISCLAIMER: The characters who would be mentioned are owned by Capcom.

❝ There are no happy endings, endings are the saddest part. So give me a happy middle, and a very happy start. ❞ – Anonymous

【Foreword】

As she lay on his bed, her thoughts suddenly kicked in.

"Are you still up?" she asked softly, resting her head on his chest while their fingers remained intertwined.

He mumbled a reply. "Yes?" he answered lazily, eyes still closed. After all, they had made love that night—of course he couldn't do another round. Three rounds were already more than enough. He had lost count after the second.

She shifted slightly, lifting her head to look at him, admiring his face and wishing this moment wouldn't end so soon.

"Have you ever thought about starting your own family?"

His eyes shot open. He looked down to meet her gaze, locking onto her eyes. His mind immediately drifted to the idea of having a family—an obedient wife, mischievous kids. What it would feel like to have Ada Wong as his wife, the mother of his children.

But fear settled in just as quickly. The thought of starting a family always weakened him. He kept imagining the worst—what if a global outbreak happened again while he was busy taking care of children? What if people needed him, and he wasn't there?

Yet a quiet part of him whispered that if he ever had children with her, it might be worth giving everything up. Worth relinquishing his job. Worth settling down.

He smiled faintly at the idea, but he pushed it away. He knew she'd probably find it embarrassing. He also knew she would never give up her work just to have children with him.

Silence stretched between them. She dreaded his answer, even though a part of her felt he was ready. She just needed assurance—something only he could give.

"I don't think I'm ready yet," he finally said, hesitation thick in his voice.

The raven-haired woman looked at him, disappointment filling her eyes. She felt tears threatening to spill, so she broke eye contact and took a deep breath, trying to steady her heart. That wasn't the answer she expected. She thought he would at least give her a hopeful yes.

She couldn't hold it anymore. She tried to swallow the small whimper rising in her throat, but she failed. He felt something wet fall onto his chest.

"Are you okay?"

Instead of speaking, she nodded. She pulled her hand from his and made an okay sign, trying to hide how broken she felt.

She shifted away from him and lay on her side, her back facing him. She didn't want him to see her like this—not when she had always been the cool, confident, selfish woman who never let emotions slip through the cracks.

"Are you really alright?" he asked again, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She exhaled shakily. It hurt. It hurt too much.

"You should rest. You had a long day," he murmured, kissing her hair before tightening his arms around her.

A few minutes passed. His breathing deepened—he was asleep. Carefully, she pried his arms away and held her breath to stop another sob from escaping.

She sat up beside him, quietly watching his face. But her emotions finally broke through. She pressed both hands over her mouth to muffle her cries as tears streamed down her cheeks.

For a moment, she simply admired him—her savior. His guardian angel. Memories flooded her mind: meeting him in Raccoon City when she'd mistaken him for a zombie; fighting alongside him in Spain; the night he was angry after she vanished following their time together; the shock on his face when he found her in Tall Oaks; the helicopter in China she sent for him. Every memory made her heart weaker.

Because tonight would be the last time she ever saw him.

She wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

Reaching out, she brushed his bangs away from his forehead. She smiled weakly. He always looked so vulnerable, so gentle, so heartbreakingly handsome when he slept. She had always wanted to wake up to this face as the sun rose.

She caressed his cheek, and he instinctively leaned into her touch like a content kitten. She let out a quiet, broken laugh.

"I love you," he murmured in his sleep. "Don't leave."

Her heart stabbed painfully. She yanked her hand away from his face as if he had burned her.

She couldn't stay. Not anymore.

She gathered her clothes from the floor and dressed quickly. When she was done, she walked to his desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

I'm afraid this is the last night you'll see me. Always remember that you have a special place in my heart. I don't want to say goodbye, but I have to.

I don't want to drag you into a mess you never asked to be part of.

I'm just a woman who fell in love with you... nothing more.

I love you.

—A

She placed the note gently on the bedside table and kissed the paper, leaving a red lipstick mark.

She turned to him one last time. Then, unable to resist, she bent down, pressed a full, lingering kiss on his lips, and left a lipstick stain on his cheek—her final mark.

"I love you too," she whispered.

And with that, she left.