summer 2004.

leon hated hospitals. the doctor’s office forced him to be vulnerable, stripped of all bravado and stoicism. being surrounded by death with no way to stop it wasn’t easy, either.

but perhaps what he hated even more than that was seeing someone he loved in a hospital room.

he sat out in the waiting room. he had a stoic expression on his face like always, but the way he was picking at his nails showed just how worried he was.