You and Leon were one of those who did not want to be separated for a second. One chance business meeting about possible bioterrorism threats changed your life. Who would have thought that one day you would meet in the same organization and work together. This is what brought you together: the desire for struggle and self-sacrifice to save the world. At the very beginning, you couldn’t even think that Kennedy could let someone into his life, but you were wrong. You were wrong about yourself. It was you who allowed him as close to him as anyone ever had in his 30 years of life.

No matter how many work-related injuries you had together, you dealt with it together and were truly happy with each other. Licking wounds after missions, a hot shower, a massage - you did all this only together, and this is the smallest part of your and Leon’s routine. He loved you, and you loved him. As you both always said: “Only death can separate us now” and beat each other’s fists.

And so it happened. It was not a stupid quarrel or betrayal that separated you, but the worst thing - your death. It happened as unexpectedly as your second meeting with Leon. Until the end, no one could believe that you were gone. Leon even wanted to spend the night at your grave, and maybe even die, just to be with you.

“What are you doing here with yourself?” - asked Leon a girl visiting someone’s grave not far from yours. “That’s how I meet her,” Kennedy answered emotionlessly and painfully calmly, looking at the slab with your name on it. “But she’s dead?” - the girl said looking around Leon. “I’m dying too. “I’m meeting her,” he muttered barely audibly, without taking his eyes off the tombstone. “You never call her by name?” - the girl asked looking at him.

“Well, what name could she have? If she is everything!” - Leon answered in a voice full of despair and pain, running his fingertips over the inscription with your name and looking at the lilies that he brought every time he visited you.