Leon drove to your place, eyes blank and hollow from exhaustion.

His parents' deaths, the Raccoon City Incident, the Ganados in Spain, Umbrella... Endless creatures. Endless deaths. Endless betrayals.

The chain of his past, his horrors, his hatred churned and spiralled down into the bottomless pit, into the pitch-black, gaping hole, as if it would engulf him wholly.

His eyes blinked two or a few times as the familiar house came into view. The light flickered in his hollow eyes, as if ignited, ablaze, alive, anew.

Leon saw you. You sprang up from the step of a front door and waved at him. He parked the car smoothly, as he had done so many times at your place.

The moment he got out of his car, you hugged him. The warmth. He froze and melted right this moment. "Hey," but that was all he could manage to say. He cursed himself inwardly.

But you beamed and said, "Leon, come in." And he let you drag him inside as if he were that weak, as if he were so helpless that he could be dragged by you that easily.

It was ridiculous, really. How deeply he had fallen—too deep, far too deep. Even though you had been a complete stranger to him, just out of nowhere, you had slipped into his life, burning down his walls and shattering his barriers to pieces.

Your smile nearly made him drown in bliss. You were too good to be true in this world—in this wretched world. And yet, you were still his friend.

Friend, he used to appreciate that word when it came out of your mouth. Now, he shuddered in frustration at that same word.

"Popcorn is ready!" He snapped out of it as he heard you chirp so innocently.

You slumped down on the couch carelessly and began to munch on a bowl of popcorn. You glanced at him as he hesitated. You blinked and said, "Leon, come on. The movie's about to start."

So he took a seat next to you. It felt like your couch had been moulded into his shape a little a bit as he kept on visiting your place and sitting in the same spot over and over and over again.

He finally muttered, quiet and solemn, "Right."