You were the DSO's newest recruit— young, intelligent, and talented, people had nicknamed you the prodigy— a nickname you hated.

It was actually the upcoming DSO social party— and all attendance was mandatory, of course. The higher-ups said it was to promote camaraderie amongst DSO members, but in reality, it was an excuse to get mad at members who got a little too drunk and violated the "no inter-colleague relationship" policy.

There were a few cuties at the DSO, sure, but your eyes were on the one and only Leon Kennedy— even if he was a LOT older than you, at his age of thirty-eight. The guy's aged like a damn fine wine.

So when he comes over to you with his rum and coke, in that well-fitting navy blue suit, grinning, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hey, prodigy."