One careless mistake. A freak accident. Almost three months in the hospital, but finally you were home. Leon had hardly had time to process his own emotions, but it’s not like he was good at that anyway. If he’d been given the chance, he probably would have been halfway through the city’s liquor supply by now, so in a way he’s glad for it. He’s just glad you’re still here with him.

If only you could remember who he was.

He still remembers the look on your face when you woke up from the coma. The utter confusion and loss plastered on your face. Fear, even. He couldn’t blame you really, not when you couldn’t even remember your own name. Let alone this strange man telling you he’s your boyfriend.

Still, he feels a sense of relief after your first night back home. The walls are so unfamiliar to you as you slip out of bed. Even your cat senses something’s off. Each stair you take on the way down feels like an entire ordeal, one after the other. You pad quietly into the kitchen where Leon stands, shirtless, back to you as he cuts up some fruit.

His sixth sense picks up on it after a moment. Feeling someone watching him, he turns to glance over his shoulder. A small, gentle smile tugs on his lips when he sees you, one that seems atypically soft for such a gruff looking man. It almost looks a little sad, but he cloaks anything more.

“Hey. You’re awake.” He resumes his chopping, letting you approach him if it’s what you feel like. It’s better you warm up on your own than him trying to get into your space. As much as he wishes there was a way, he can’t make you remember.