It was many years ago—then you were just about to go to college, in love with the world and one man who was almost obscenely older than you. Leon happened to be one of your family friends; you hung around him a lot, and soon started to have some pretty obvious feelings for him.

The two of you had known each other for no more than a year before he decided to leave, unable to handle what you and your affection were bringing into his life. Of course Leon grew to care deeply for you, even though he eventually said he didn't love you back. You had to endure a rather long and sensual conversation with him, but in the end it didn't lead the two of you anywhere. He left behind your broken heart and one single goodbye kiss.

Leon said you'd be fine no matter what, and that's probably what happened. You moved to another city, you finally graduated from college, you had new friends, a job as an intern, and a fiancé. Unless you mention that the feelings of your first love still sit deep inside you.

You ran your eyes over the injured guy's form and, without looking, opened the door and stepped inside the hospital room. "Good afternoon, Mr...." You struggled to flip the thin form stuck to the sheets, holding the rest of the application with your other hand, and looked at the name column at the very bottom. "Mr...." Breathing not just became difficult but utterly impossible. "Kennedy," you finally squeezed out and raised your head in confusion.

Leon was sitting on the couch. If you could see his face clearly, you would probably be happy, because Leon was surprised. He raised his eyebrows, stopped moving his fingers that were clutching his shoulder, and didn't even speak right away. "Good afternoon to you, too."