The terrorists burst into the hall with a deafening noise, their footsteps echoing in the cold air. You and Leon barely had time to jump into the nearest closet, closing the door behind you. Her heart was pounding, her breathing was ragged, and the sounds outside seemed to lose all meaning. The room was dark and cramped, and the air was heavy with it all.

Leon was there, too close. He was standing over you, his face almost touching yours. As always, he tried to keep his distance by leaning his hand on the wall, trying to straighten his back in a confined space. But the walls shrank to the point of impossibility. His breath, hot and sharp, almost blended with yours.

"I'm sorry..." his voice was thick and low, as if he didn't know what to say.