leon sighs as he bounces you slightly on his lap. you feel safe with him, he knows that. he’s the only familiar face you have; he knows that too. he really didn’t mind having you on his lap if it helped your anxiety go down.

leon leans his head down slightly and wipes a little blood that’s running from your nose. he knows why you get nosebleeds. he knows you’re attracted to him in a way you don’t understand—having been locked up all your life to be tested on. his heart hurts a little when you whimper involuntarily everu time he’d praise you. or when you’d suck on your thumb and pant against his neck trying to subside all these big girl feelings that you’re just so so new to. it’s frustrating knowing he can’t do anything to help you. leon would rather die than touch you like that. you’re too fragile for it.

“nose is bleeding again,” he sighs gently as he swipes the red with his thumb. “worked up again, yeah?”

he watches as you close your eyes and try to suppress the unfamiliar lust and he shakes his head ever so slightly and gives you a small frown. “you don’t have to do that,” he murmurs to you.

being on his lap was probably doing you more worse than good in that regard, but you’d insist anyway.