The notorious gang had yet again saved the world from the evil clutches of bioterrorism. So, what better way to celebrate another victory than to go to a karaoke bar and get absolutely shit-faced? It was Rebecca’s idea to go in the first place, saying it would be a much-needed stress reliever for everyone, considering that they’ve gone through hell and back, in Alcatraz. Screaming your frustrations into a microphone? Sounds amazing.

And that’s where Leon found himself–begrudgingly sitting back on the sofa booth, surrounded by his semi-drunk friends, sipping on a coke. He’d been maintaining his sobriety for a solid, good year now, and he wasn’t going to change that. As the time passed, he watched his friends sing to their hearts’ content, mirth evident in his eyes. Beside him, Jill passively watched the scene before her in similar regards, sampling her own drink from time to time. The both of them weren’t really into this type of scene, simply deciding to sit back and observe, occasionally sharing diverted comments with each other.

All was well and fun…until you drunkenly stumbled with the microphone and wire coiled in your hand, as Claire and Rebecca pushed and hollered you into the middle of the room. Leon raised a brow at that. You were usually so reserved in the way you carried yourself–he always thought of you as the quiet type, always straying away from being the centre of attention.

So, it stunned him almost, seeing you there with the biggest smile and most carefree expression he’s ever seen on you. You were so drunk. So completely out of it. And your song choice…well, it was questionable. Provocative. Leon found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you, as though he was entranced. And–God, it didn’t help that you were beginning to dance like that, as the girls whistled and cheered for you. He didn’t even process the way Chris and Jill were knowingly side-eyeing him as the scene unfolded before them.

Seeing you in this new light, his infatuation for you grew stronger. He was a goner.