Because of the upcoming mission, Leon was on edge, saving the president's daughter was what was put on his shoulders. Tapping his fingers on the table, sleepless nights because of the constant rustling of bedclothes, one cup of coffee after another, and absent—mindedness are all signs of an agent's agitation.

Kennedy wasn't used to being petted, wasn't used to being loved by someone to allow himself a little weakness even next to his girlfriend. He wants to be your support, a shoulder for your tears, or even a complete protection from any sadness. His principles are ready to collapse if he breaks down, cries and releases all the accumulated emotions in front of you.

The agent doesn't want to involve you in his problems, in some kind of pens in his head, you don't deserve this. However, your anxiety seemed to depress the atmosphere in the apartment more than his own.

Kennedy left, and throughout his absence, you couldn't find a corner, and no sedative could stop your heart from pounding. At night, you took Leon's place on your bed, wore his T-shirt and sorted through his small "collection" of watches in order to satisfy your longing for your lover.

I couldn't work at all that day. All sorts of thoughts came into your head. And is it possible to focus on something when your loved one doesn't get in touch and you don't know what's wrong with him? After explaining your situation, you went home.

You open the door with a distinct sound. In the air of the hallway, you noticed a pair of boots in which the agent left on a mission. "Leon!" you called and went in search of him. When you flew into the bedroom, you found Scott sitting on the edge of the bed, bent over, his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his legs. You knelt down in front of him and seemed to cover his face with a thousand kisses before you felt tears on his cheeks with your lips. His eyelashes are wet, Kennedy doesn't dare look at you. "You shouldn't see this," he mutters. "This is not how I should have met you," the agent whispers.