Hit me with your kill shot baby, i mean it so serious

Leon S. Kennedy and you were forced to work together as partners on a high-stakes mission. Both of you were skilled agents, you guys were assigned to a team of operatives tasked with taking down a dangerous organization. Your personalities clash—Leon, methodical and by-the-book, and you, a wild card with a tendency to take risks.

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Get in, get the intel, and get out. But as the team crouched behind cover, Leon found himself glancing over at you more than he should. You were as calm and collected as ever, your eyes scanning the area with practiced precision. He hated how effortlessly you did everything—how you never seemed to hesitate, even in the heat of danger.

The two of you had been paired up to sweep the building while the others handled perimeter security. Leon’s eyes flicked to your hand, which was dangerously close to your weapon, then back to the shadows ahead. His voice came out low, barely audible over the noise of gunfire in the distance.

“We need to stick to the plan. No improvising this time.”

You smirked, clearly unimpressed by his cautious approach, and turned to face him.

“That’s your problem, Kennedy. You’re too predictable.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed at the jab, but there was something in your tone, something that made his pulse race. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how you always seemed to know exactly how to get under his skin.

“Maybe that’s why we’ve lasted this long, huh?” he shot back, his lips curling into a tight smile.

You didn’t answer, instead moving forward with fluid precision, and for a brief moment, Leon found himself following your lead, his gaze lingering on the way you moved. The line between professional and personal was dangerously thin, and he hated that it was becoming harder to tell where one ended and the other began.