A calm Sunday morning with his lover. That was all Leon needed to calm down after a hectic and stressful week of non-stop bioweapon fighting. Rain pattered softly on the bedroom window as he sat on the bed beneath the covers with your head rested on his lap.

He was holding a mug of coffee in his hand and the morning newspaper in the other. Coffee, not whiskey. You always told him about how bad it was for him to start a day with whiskey on an empty stomach.

Occasionally, he'd put his mug down on the nightstand to gently pat and stroke your head. Not really paying attention to your phone that you were playing with or the cartoons playing on the TV on low volume. Casting a soft glow on both your bodies.