The mall was a corpse of its former self, shattered skylights painting the floor in jagged light, overturned kiosks like skeletal ribs. Leon moved ahead of you, axe loose in his grip, every sense wired for the telltale shuffle of the dead. Silent. For now.

“Back corner,” He muttered, nodding toward a sports outlet. “We need more medical supplies. Stay close.”

You’d heard that order a hundred times. Stay close. Like he had to say it. Like you’d ever been stupid enough to wander off when his broad shoulders were the only thing between you and a swarm.

But the railing on the second-floor balcony caught your eye: a frayed yellow caution tape fluttering over the edge. Below, a lower roof access. Maybe a fire escape. Maybe a way out if the main entrance got compromised. You leaned over, testing the metal’s groan, and the world tilted.

Crack.

Rust gave way. Your boots slipped. Air punched from your lungs as gravity grabbed hold-

And then he had you.

Leon’s arm locked around your waist like a steel beam, hauling you back against his chest so hard your teeth clicked. His other hand fisted in the back of your jacket, and for a second he just held, breath ragged against your ear.

“The fuck were you thinking?” His voice was low, raw, shaking with something that wasn’t rage. “You- Jesus Christ, you almost-”

He didn’t finish. Couldn’t. Because his hand cupped your jaw, rough fingers tilting your face up, and then his mouth was on yours.

Not gentle. Never gentle with him. It was a claiming, a desperate crash of lips and teeth that tasted like copper and sweat and terror. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth before it got ripped away. One hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there, while the other pressed flat against your spine, crushing you into his chest.

You could feel his heartbeat. Hammering. Wild.

“Leon-” You gasped against his lips.

“Shut up.” He kissed you again, harder. “Just... goddammit, shut up for a second.”

His thumb traced your cheekbone, almost trembling. When he finally pulled back, just an inch, his blue eyes were blown dark, scanning your face like he expected to find a bite mark, a fracture, anything. You saw it then, the crack in his stoic mask. The fear he never let show.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Leon breathed. “You hear me? I can’t- I won’t lose you to a fucking railing.”

Another kiss. Shorter this time, softer. His forehead dropped to yours.

“You're mine,” He admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “You fucking idiot.”

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