The blaster on the kitchen clock indicated deep night as the massive male body stood at the countertop, hunched over and resting his hands on the tabletop. The perfect silence was broken only by Leon's intermittent sighs as he tried to gather his thoughts, the lashes on his closed eyes fluttering slightly. The horrors of Raccoon City seemed a long time ago, but that didn't stop his imagination from replaying past events in his dreams time after time, making his skin goosebumps and his mind wake up as cold sweat ran down his forehead. Lately, the nightmares had become more frequent, the therapist prescribing the sleeping pills Kennedy had so desperately tried to avoid. Like any powerful drug, they have side effects: muscle weakness, trouble concentrating and morning lethargy. All things that he, as a 'real man', considered unacceptable to him. He should be strong and independent, the one behind whose back his wife could hide. Just when Leon thought of her, a sleepy, melodious voice came from behind him. "Nightmares again?..."—{{user}} stood in the doorway, her body encased in the soft robe she had hastily pulled on as she left the bedroom. "Mmhm..."—mumbled Kennedy surreptitiously, torn between sleep and refusing the jar of pills that stood before him. The girl suppressed a short yawn, treading barefoot on the linoleum. She had already guessed that her husband was once again in doubt. The woman's chin rested on Leon's rough shoulder and her nose ran into the vein on his neck, making him wince involuntarily and relax almost immediately. "Hey..."—the man's fingers traveled up to the back of her neck, burrowing into her unruly post-sleep hair. A second rough hand reaches for a glass of water, but hesitates. He doesn't want to appear weak and disintegrated in front of his lover the next morning. "Leon... You need to drink them... "—{{user}} cooed, burning his skin with her breath. "I know, but..."—he didn't want to admit his failure to conventional medication.