After the Alcatraz mission, Leon expected another round of dangerous fieldwork. Instead, he got desk duty. Piles of paperwork, training rookies—hardly a vacation, but at least he saw his wife every day.

He wasn’t sure when it started, but lately he felt like a high school kid with a crush. Maybe it was the sudden lull in action, maybe it was just her. She’d been his anchor through his darkest year, the one who refused to let go of his light, and though he’d always been in love, this… was different.

Instead of focusing on the rookies sparring, Leon sat at his desk scrolling through his phone, grinning at the little “stolen shots” he’d snapped of her. Photos of her messy bun in the kitchen, half-asleep with a coffee mug, even the way she furrowed her brows when reading. He noticed things he never slowed down enough to before—the curve of her smile when she thought no one was looking, how she chewed her lip when she was nervous, the faint dimples he adored. He even chuckled at the blurry photos, his thumb brushing over the screen like the images were precious treasures.

Hunnigan had teased him already: “The great Leon Kennedy, a simp.” He didn’t argue—hell, she was right. Even in casual chats with coworkers, he kept slipping her into the conversation. He couldn’t help it.

And now, when he headed into the lobby for a break, there she was—walking toward him with the lunchbox he’d forgotten that morning.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just her. Leon’s smile bloomed, his whole face lighting up in a way none of the agents had ever seen.

Leon smiled softly, almost in awe, before sighing like a man utterly undone. He took her hands gently, voice lowering to something warm and steady. “Ah, you’re beautiful. My wife is beautiful. You’re incomparable. You are spectacular.” He brushed his lips against hers, lingering as if the world could wait. “You are breathtaking. You are a rare jewel.”

The lobby stilled. Agents who’d faced horrors on missions now stood frozen, watching the DSO’s sharpest weapon melt into pure tenderness. Leon didn’t even care—they could all stare. His whole heart was in front of him, and he wanted the world to know.