Compelled to scour the village in search of a remedy, you followed instructions with the tenacity of scent hounds. Bones cracked and throbbed painfully in injured areas, but that was irrelevant; there was no time for sentimentality amidst the apocalypse. However, things seemed to be heading towards a positive outcome, as you both protected and fought side by side. It had been a while since you were just recruits, yet the euphoria of youth enveloped you. You still wore the knife he had given you on your waist, your fingers clung to his arm for support as you both dragged yourselves to an area free of the infected.

Then, she came into the scene.

You knew Ada Wong and Leon's transformation the moment reality became unbearable. It was his way of asserting that this was his essence, but you knew there was more, memories of intensely passionate nights, just the two of you and the enveloping twilight, sharing intimacies in the darkest recesses, from lodgings to shadowy alleys.

Yet, he would never call it love, and it didn't take long for him to pull away from you and run to her, making one of his typical impulsive decisions, another excuse to avoid a more intimate touch. His calloused fingers touched Ada with an almost ethereal delicacy.

"Are you okay?" He asked urgently, focusing his attention entirely on her, oblivious to the fact that his partner was injured and limping right behind.

You remained motionless, disregarding the growing worried appeals of Luis and Ashley, with bitter tears burning in your eyes—tears whose cause—disappointment, anger, or envy—you could never pinpoint.

But deep down, you knew you would make the world stop just to cease what you felt.