What a Bunch of Losers
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- Parts 2
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Apr 7, 2025
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Leon was your typical attractive American guy-tall, good jawline, messy hair that always looked intentional, and a smile that said he'd gotten away with something. The type who could walk into a gas station and leave with the cashier's number. People assumed he'd be with someone equally magnetic.
Instead, he was madly-almost inconveniently-involved with Y/N.
Y/N, standing at y/h on a good day, wore anxiety like armor. Her shaggy hair and crooked bangs framed a face too intense for small talk. Clear-framed glasses, chipped black nail polish, and a permanent resting bitch face completed the look. She clung to Leon like he might disappear-because she believed he might.
Leon was flirtatious by nature. Too many glances, too many "accidental" likes. Y/N didn't think it was funny. But Leon liked her jealousy, liked the way she clung to him, how she believed no one else would ever want her. That meant she'd never leave.
It wasn't healthy. It wasn't soft.
But it was theirs.
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She thought she buried the past. But the past never buries you. A sudden flash of memory... her father's dying eyes, and a legacy built on secrets and broken promises. Leon S. Kennedy was never meant to love her. He haunted her dreams, mocked her in silence, stalked her steps like a shadow with no name. "You don't get to play the hero when your hands are drenched in my blood." Until She met Him by chance, a stranger, a weapon, a key to the lies that bound her. Their eyes crossed, briefly, like two stars brushing in an endless sky... beautiful, distant, and destined to never meet. "I don't expect you to care. But I'll keep hoping you'll let me stay." In Paris, under dim lights, their eyes met again... his gaze colder, her heart colder still. Each lie Leon tried to bury only clawed deeper. Her hatred sharpened, he watched her, Stalked her without knowing why, as if her presence was a riddle only he could never solve. "I never wanted to be your savior... I just wanted to be less of your curse, more of your love." Leon might have wept once... only once, for a woman he couldn't save, for a life he accidentally destroyed. Their marriage exposed like an open wound where the world could see. She tried to look away, but his eyes always found hers... like fate, relentless, pulling them closer with every stolen second. Aaira became heartless. Cold. Empty. Untouchable. Yet in the dark, Leon's love grew stronger, a wildfire impossible to extinguish. "I loved you the way a man loves the edge of a blade... knowing it will cut him in the end. Yet each night, 🎵: "I don't choose this way, It just feels right. No need to understand, I'm already home." Blood is thicker, they say... but sometimes, it's the blade that cuts deepest. In the end, the ones closest to us are the ones who break us most. And maybe... just maybe, something real waits to be born. Or maybe they are both already dead.
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