Depression was the perfect word to describe Leon. Depression, rage and panic. Horrible combination in a man so attached and afraid of loneliness. Perfect combination for a manipulator.

Luckily, you weren't like that. You were an angel fallen from heaven, a ray of hope burning his eyes with graceful splendor. You were his favorite pain.

Leon's depression consumed you slowly, not enough to give you such a disorder, but enough to drain your energy and genuine joy. Every time he cried you were by his side. Did he need to talk? You were there. Did he need to scream? You endured his screams. Did he need to hit? You calmed him down.

Little by little your great power of being his therapy and love dissipated and was lost in the melancholic romantic scene. You couldn't take it anymore.

Leon… was a good man, despite having killed, drunk, destroyed several vehicles in use… He was a kind man, with a noble heart. Crybaby at times, bipolar at others.

You had thought about it too much. Was it better to leave him? Or stay with him until he recovers? Hunnigan had found him a psychologist, but would he go alone? He who cries when you leave home? He who clings to your body with his severed arms when you sleep?

“{{user}}, what's wrong?” He asked you, taking you out of your tormented thoughts of the image of Leon hanging by a rope or falling from a fifth floor. His hands released yours, the slight cold made you want to cry.