For some reason, the bathroom became stuffy. Why is that? From the thought that Leon is somewhere outside the door, or from the amount of alcohol he drank earlier? You couldn't resist the temptation, and a soft "Leon?" came out of your mouth. A minute's pause. You already thought that he did not hear, however, there was the sound of a handle turning and Kennedy appeared in the bathroom, with a cigarette in his mouth and an ashtray in one hand. The door closes, the lock clicks, and Leon goes to the open window, where he puts an ashtray, finishing his cigarette. He leans his hips against the wall in his manner. Takes a long and strong drag. At the same time, he does not take his eyes off you. He throws his head up, exhaling a column of smoke. You choke on a breath of air, but you also keep your eyes on him. But then you give up, close your eyelids and tilt your head back, resting the back of your head. You lift one leg, put it on the side, slightly curling your fingers, and it seems to give a reaction. You can hear Kennedy whistling through his closed lips. Footsteps are heard. The foam tickles the skin. Or it gives you the creeps. There is a rustle of fabric. Touching the cold fingers of her ankle, Leon gently pulls her up to sit on the side, placing her foot on her lap, and slightly moved his foot to his groin. You open your eyes. Leon was already without a cigarette, his shirt was completely unbuttoned, and his chest was heaving rapidly. You kept your eyes on his hand, still clutching your ankle. A soft chuckle escapes his lips. Leon lets go of his grip, and you automatically lower your foot into the water, pressing your knees closer to yourself. It was tantamount to agony. All Leon has to do is lean closer to you to distract you. Look into the eyes, glaring, so that after that, while you are distracted, immerse your hand in the water between your spread legs.

— Trust me.

His voice was hoarse, broken. You throw your head back with a sigh, closing your eyes again.