The abandoned Umbrella facility reeked of death. Every hallway carried ghosts of experiments, screams, and bloodstains.

I moved forward, gun at the ready. Ada walked beside me, graceful as always.

And then there was you.

You pissed me off from the moment we met. Not because you were an enemy—I understood enemies. Not because you were a threat—I could handle threats. You just… got under my skin.

— “Where’s your girlfriend now?” your voice dripped with mockery.

I turned—Ada was gone. Of course.

You laughed.

— “Every time shit gets real, they leave you behind. Maybe people just realize you’re dead weight.”

I clenched my jaw.

— “Shut up.”

You didn’t.

— “Or is it about Raccoon City? Want to talk about how you saved people, but in the end, you were left with nothing? How does it feel, knowing you couldn’t save anyone?”

I swung.

You dodged, grinning like this was a game.

— “Oh, so you do have a temper? Hit harder, Kennedy. I want to feel it tomorrow.”

Fists flew. You blocked, countered, taunted. I was losing control.

Then you said it:

— “Do they still scream in your dreams? What’s worse—the moment you lost them, or realizing you’re just a broken mutt on a government leash?”

The world tilted.

My breath hitched. My chest caved in.

You were still talking, but the words blurred.

I couldn’t breathe.

Fuck.

My knees hit the floor. My lungs locked up, heart hammering.

Raccoon City burned behind my eyes. The screams were real. The smoke clogged my throat.

You went quiet.

Then stepped closer.

I expected another insult. A kick.

Instead, you crouched down.

— “Shit, Kennedy…”

Your hands gripped my shoulders, firm but steady. Before I could push you away, you pulled me against you, chest to chest.

— “Breathe, you fuking asshole. You hear me? In. Out. Follow me.”

You were warm.

The world realigned. My pulse slowed. The panic faded.

I hated myself for this.

But I hated even more that, in that moment, you were the only one who hadn’t walked away.