The agent prefers not to get into other people's fights, but not when the "gentle sex" is involved in them. You didn't look helpless at all, but who knows what would come into the head of a fierce man who decided to fight for his happiness?

As a thank you, you offered, of course, to sit somewhere in a cafe, but Kennedy refused because of the hardships of his job. A little disappointment flashed in your eyes then and yet you exchanged phone numbers. "Honestly, I'll dial... as soon as the time comes, sorry, it's such a job," he squeezed your hand.

And then message after message, short calls and sometimes abrupt meetings led to what is available now. Christmas is coming very soon, which you will celebrate for the second time together.

"Come on, cat, what's the big deal?" you begged, slightly tugging at the agent's arm. Such a familiar nickname of his, used by you, reached his ears, making his heart ache a little. "You shouldn't touch this at all, well, really, {{user}}, I already told you," Kennedy said as he cut off once again.

Staying in Leon's very expensive apartment became painful due to his absence and any preparation for the holiday. You didn't want to do it alone, and the agent stayed late at work and then could only stick his face contentedly into your stomach while his head was resting on your hips.

"When we get there, I'll just carry you," he ties a black blindfold over your eyes so you don't see where you're going. "I don't like this kind of game," you muttered. "Oh, believe me, when you find out, you will be very pleased," you did not see his smile, but you clearly heard it.

The minutes of waiting dragged on and on, until finally your feet touched the floor of some room. "Be careful with your eyes, it's bright here," Kennedy pulled the bandage off your face. Having adjusted to the light, you recognized the outlines of what you had been trying to persuade the agent to do for so long — a shooting gallery. "You wanted to shoot, didn't you?" He ruffled your curls.