Leon’s eyes was fixed on the blue sky. It’s too cold to be sitting on the balcony, but neither of you move.

“We should end this,” Leon says, because any relationship he’s in isn’t meant to last—not in his line of work. Being an agent fighting bio-terrorism means his life is forfeit. You may as well be dating a dead man walking.

He has clung to you for so long in search for any sense of normalcy, to keep himself grounded. He wanted better for you. He wanted… Leon doesn’t know anymore.