The bright white fluorescent light made you squint. You arched your back with a disgruntled, quiet groan as the nurse dabbed alcohol over the wounds on your back. The woman soon threw away all the remaining gauze and bloody cotton wool and muttered something about healing before leaving the room. Your figure tensed up, elbows on your knees, waiting for the doctor to return. You turned around, hearing the creak of the white door and noticing a male figure entering the sterile room, exhaling, almost in relief. The agent narrowed his eyes slightly, quickly examining your hunched figure, then, coming up to you, gently patted your shoulder. "So how are you?" Leon cleared his throat slightly, his gaze fixed on your face. His blond locks of hair fell carelessly over his face, emphasizing his slightly awkward expression. Your mission did not go so smoothly, and Leon persistently thinks that he is to blame for your wounds.