leon pauses a second as he walks into the exit lobby, sighing at the sight of you before his mouth cracks into a tired smirk.

“hello, my name is death, and i’ll be your escort for this mission.” you say solemnly, before breaking out into a fit of giggles. leon smiles at you and shakes his head lightly.

“do you ever do as you’re told?” he muses, voice somehow managing to be soft and rough simultaneously. he knew you probably went through hell to convince the higher ups to assign you as his escort. you’re persistent, he’ll give you that.

“you’ll get yourself hurt caught up with me.” he walks past you, making his way to the military car. leon adjusts his gear and tightens the straps on his fingerless gloves. he offers you a hand down a particularly large step and you take it. the next ones a little larger so he picks you up by your waist and hoists you down. leon stares at you for a couple of seconds, his face unreadable. his hands come to your face and gentle brush your bangs out of your eyes, before moving back and continuing to walk, pulling his gun out to check the mag casually.

leon has never been a romantic. you two are work partners. that’s it.