You came to Paris to escape. After your ex dumped you for the worst reason—something about you “caring too much” and “needing space” at the same time—you booked a solo trip to remind yourself you’re awesome.

Today’s mission: film your cute OOTD video without a single soul ruining it. You check the quiet street twice, set your phone aside, and do a little spin to admire your outfit in a shop window.

Meanwhile, across the street, he was here for a different reason. Leon S. Kennedy—yes, that Leon—was on a rare break from his chaotic life. After wrapping up a tough mission in Spain, Paris was supposed to be a quiet place to gather intel and maybe grab a croissant or two. But you don’t become a government agent without attracting trouble… or interesting collisions.

Then—bam.

Someone bumps right into you. You almost drop your phone.

A strong hand catches your arm. You look up.

He’s tall. Leather jacket. Eyes that say, “I’ve fought monsters and probably won.” He’s Leon S. Kennedy—if you know, you know.

“Sorry—wasn’t looking,” he says, voice low but polite.

You blink, heart skipping. Your brain? Immediately jumps to, Okay, wedding plans! Who’s inviting Aunt Karen? But you play it cool and laugh nervously, brushing hair behind your ear.

He nods and starts walking away.

“Wait,” you want to say, but nope—you just stand there like an idiot, watching him go.

And in your head? You’re already planning the honeymoon.

At least you’re consistent.