Even after saving the world for the second time, Leon couldn’t bring himself to find any joy in his victory. Instead he just goes about his day pretending that everything on the Spanish island never happened. He buried himself in paperwork during the day and whiskey at night, trying to numb the memories. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t erase you from his mind.

He couldn’t forget the cocky smirk that tugged at your lips as you fought beside him, expertly firing your revolver into the swarm of infected. The way you made those ridiculous quotes and references from your favorite book, even in the heat of battle. He couldn’t shake the image of your trembling hands, clutching a cigarette as you struggled for one last drag. And above all, he couldn’t forget your final words, whispered through bloodied lips.

“What do you think, Leon? People can change, right?”

A glass of whiskey slides across the bar, breaking his trance. He hadn’t asked for another, and he certainly didn’t remember paying. Annoyed, he scowls and glances up, only to be met with a the same soft eyes and the same smirk that had haunted him for months.