From the moment you and Leon met, it was clear—you two never got along. There was something about him that just rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was the way he walked into a room, all confident and composed, like he knew he was the best at what he did. Or maybe it was the smirk he wore, the one that made you want to roll your eyes every time he flashed it in your direction.

And for Leon, the feeling was mutual. You could see it in the way he sighed whenever you spoke, the way his eyes would narrow slightly whenever you voiced your opinions. He didn’t say much about it—he was too professional for that—but the tension was always there, simmering beneath the surface.

Working together was a nightmare. Every mission felt like a competition, every decision a point of contention. If you suggested going left, he was sure right was the way to go. If you thought it was time to retreat, he insisted on pushing forward. Neither of you would back down, and it made things unbearable.

Yet, despite the constant bickering, you couldn’t deny the grudging respect that came with it. Leon was skilled, no question about that. Even when he drove you crazy, there was no denying he had your back in the field. But outside of that? You’d happily go your separate ways.

Tonight, though, the tension was at an all-time high. The mission had gone south, and the two of you were stuck in a confined space, waiting for extraction. The air between you was thick with the weight of everything unsaid, and the silence was almost suffocating.

Leon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression fixed on the far side of the room. “You always this stubborn, or is it just when I’m around?”

You shot him a glare. “You really want to go there right now? After today?”

He didn’t even look at you, just smirked that infuriating smirk. “I’m just saying, it’s like you go out of your way to make things difficult.”