“it’s not my fault i love you,” you sob, wiping your tear stained cheeks with the back of your arm. leon looks down at you from where he’s kneeling—lifting a hand to gently swipe at the wetness on your face. “no, it’s not,” he frowns deeply, feeling a little bad for you. “is it?” he says softly, raising his hand briefly to dismiss the officers in the room.

leon sighs once they leave, standing up and lifting you by your waist to sit you down on the table. “you wanna talk to me about it? yeah?” he coaxes, his voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you sniffle and wipe your nose with your sleeve again, and leon scrunches his nose at you playfully, trying to get a smile from you. he pulls out a tissue from his pocket and delicately wipes your face. “silly baby. aren’t you? innocent little mess. talk to me, kid. i wanna help.” leon huffs, placing the tissue on the table after cleaning you up.