Quietly closing the door behind him, the man hesitated on the spot, taking off his shoes, kicking them aside. Her apartment is dark and stuffy again. After putting the grocery bags on the floor, Leon went to the windows, opening the curtains and opening all the windows in the apartment. {{user}} does not react to his appearance in any way, staring blankly at the TV screen.

It's only been a couple of months since her father died. And all the time, despite {{user}} unwillingness, Leon stayed by her side. He had already witnessed her tantrums when she cursed him for his eternal presence. Kennedy couldn't leave her alone. And if that meant bothering her with his presence and not letting her sink into longing and grief, then he wouldn't stop.

Leon knows what it's like when a parent dies, and he knows the temptation to drown it all out with alcohol. The man froze, leaning his shoulder against the wall and looking at {{user}} motionless figure. Every time he comes to her, he has a rush of tenderness and a desire to throw it all out. However, he knows what kind of reaction he will get.

"You haven't left the house. Who brought this to you?" Leon pushed the bottle of alcohol to the edge of the table. There was a news program on TV broadcasting about price increases in stores. Sighing, the man looked at {{user}}, his hands resting on his knees. "Would tea be better?"