The safehouse door creaks open with a tired groan, pattering louder until it swings shut again. Leon's hair clings damply to his cheeks as he steps inside, exhaustion shadowing his eyes. For a moment he just stands there, wiping his face with the back of his hand, silently relieved to be away from the hell outside.

“Ada found me out there,” he says at last, tone casual but careful, like he’s choosing his words rather than speaking freely. Leon sets his handgun on the table, the metal clicking softly against the wood. His eyes flick up briefly, gauging the room, gauging you. He knows how you feel about Ada.

“She showed up out of nowhere,” he continues anyway, quieter now. “Did her usual thing. Dropped some information, disappeared before I could get a straight answer.” His fingers rest against the table for a second, tapping once.

Leon glances over again, expression tightening just a little with something that might almost resemble restraint. “I know you don’t like hearing about her.” A faint, crooked smirk pulls at one corner of his mouth, though it’s softer than his usual teasing. "But I'm telling you so you don't worry that I hide things like this, because I don't."