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Claire stepped out of her car in front of the hospital, pulling her phone from her pocket and flipping it open to type in a text that just said, Here. She frowned at it, hovering over the send button, wondering if she should add a smiley face or an exclamation mark. Would that make her seem too excited about the situation, or would it make her seem carefree? Would the single word by itself make her come across as uncaring? Annoyed? She didn’t want that, of course.
She tapped a few buttons on her phone to get back to the first message he had sent. You wouldn’t by any chance be in town, would you? Thankfully she had been, although truthfully she was on her way out. But Claire would never miss an opportunity to see Leon, even if it was just something as small as picking him up from the hospital.
Keeping tabs on him wasn’t easy, as was to be expected with a job like his, but she made her best effort to. Claire was aware that he had just been on a mission in Spain, but that was all she could gather from asking around. She was a little annoyed initially that he hadn’t told her he was leaving the country, but then again, why would he? They were technically barely friends at this point, each busy with their own lives and jobs that ate up all their time. And considering everything that happened the last time they saw each other in person, Claire was honestly surprised he had reached out in the first place. She was still upset about the flashdrive, but the desire to be in contact with the only other person who experienced the same thing she did overshadowed any residual anger. There was a comfort and a safety with him that she couldn’t find anywhere else. Despite everything trying to keep them apart, they were bound to each other like binary stars orbiting each other and the same circumstances.
Her thumb still hovered over the send button as the automatic doors opened, drawing her attention. A nurse pushed Leon out onto the sidewalk in a wheelchair, handing him a white paper bag as he stood up and thanked her. She couldn’t see any visible signs of severe injury, but considering how tired he looked, she figured this had to have been more than a post mission checkup.
He offered Claire a weak smile and a hesitant wave once he caught her eyes. “Wasn’t sure you were going to come,” he said, still standing in the same spot he had first stood up in.
“I was just about to text…” She held up her phone as her voice trailed off.
Leon shifted his weight from one foot to the other, placing his free hand into the pocket of his baggy, ill-fitting jeans—most likely provided by the hospital. He somehow looked smaller than Claire had remembered him as he stood there before her, practically drowning in the clothes given to him to replace the ruined ones he had probably arrived in. The thought sent a pang through Claire’s chest and before she knew it, she was rushing toward him to wrap him in a hug.
Leon hissed and stiffed as soon as she made contact, causing her to immediately step back. “Sorry!” Her hands hovered over his arms as if she were trying to get as close as possible without actually touching him. “It’s just,” she said, taking a small breath. “It’s really good to see you.”
“It’s okay,” he said, still wincing as he gingerly placed a hand on his side. “Couple broken ribs, you know how it goes.” He gave her a pained smile, sending another pang though her chest. “It’s really good to see you too.” Worry clouded his blue eyes as he searched her face.
“Are there any you haven’t broken?” she said, cracking a smile, hoping it would put him at ease.
Relief flooded his expression as he said, “I think there’s a few up here that still haven’t been cracked yet,” and gestured toward his upper side.
Claire let out a small giggle. “Come on, get in. You’ll have to give me directions, though. I don’t think I’ve been to your place yet.”
“Not a problem,” he said, finally taking a step forward. Leon sucked in a sharp breath once he sat down and started drawing the seatbelt over himself. “Don’t get your hopes up; it’s not much. And,” he said, keeping his eyes focused on his hands, “thank you for doing this.”
“No worries. It’s good to see you,” she said, turning the ignition. “Besides, I don’t blame you for not wanting to drive yourself.”
Leon let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I’m on a bunch of pain killers.” He paused. “Also I don’t have my car.” He sucked in a breath before hesitantly saying, “But mostly I just wanted to see a familiar face, and you were the first person I thought of.”
Claire willed her face to not burn and kept her eyes on the road in front of them. “Yeah, I bet government chauffeurs can get pretty old,” she said, hoping it didn’t come across sarcastic.
“They also are pretty old.” Leon flashed her a grin that reminded her of 1998, but only for a moment.
“Oh, shut up,” she said, shaking her head and fighting a losing battle against the smile tugging at her lips. “Anyway, directions. Where are we going?”
Leon wasn’t kidding when he said his apartment wasn’t much. When they opened the door, Claire was met with an environment so sterile and devoid of personal touch that she almost wondered if they had wandered into a hotel room by mistake. Aside from the simple couch—which Leon practically collapsed onto as soon as he could—and small television, there was little to no other furniture or decorations. She couldn’t even find any sign of pictures, which stung just a little bit. She was always sure to send him a photo or two of her and Sherry every Christmas.
“I’m going to make you some food,” she called as she headed into the small kitchen. “What would you like?”
“No you’re not.” His voice was muffled against the cushions.
Claire crossed her arms and walked back into the room, hip jutting out in defiance. “Is this you implying I’m a bad cook, or are you being stubborn and refusing to let someone else help you out more?” she said with a huff. “Both answers are wrong, by the way.”
Leon lifted his head up slightly. “It’s me saying there’s no food in the kitchen.”
“What?” She went back to the kitchen and opened the cabinets. Inside were a few mismatched plates and glasses, a half eaten box of crackers, a few packets of ramen, several liquor bottles with varying amounts, and an expired tin of instant coffee. “What do you eat?”
“I’m hardly ever here,” he said, the sound of his feet padding across the floor following until he was standing next to her. “Why would I waste money on food that’ll just go bad? I’m always loaded into a plane going who-the-fuck knows where, or stuck at the office hearing about what a bad job I’m doing, or what a good job I’m doing, or who’s dying, or I’m off training and on a strict diet, or—”
“Okay, I get it,” Claire said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry.” Despite how physically close they were to each other, she felt as if the distance between them was growing. It was as if whatever gravitational force that pulled them together time and time again was weakening, even if just in this moment, and she was afraid of what might happen if the distance grew too large. “I’m sorry.”
Leon’s defensiveness melted away slowly with a sigh and was replaced with a look of tiredness, and Claire didn’t know if it was from a feeling of safety or just pure exhaustion. “It’s fine. It’s a normal thing to worry about. Most people actually live where they live.”
“We can just order carryout,” she suggested, already pulling out her phone. “You have any favorite places? Or any phone number in general?”
“There’s a stack of menus in that drawer over there. I don’t care, just pick whatever you want.” And with that, Leon started back toward the couch.
“You’re paying!” Claire said, hoping her tone came off as light teasing like she intended, as she shuffled through the takeout menus. Eventually she settled on a Chinese place she remembered liking one of the last times she was in town, holding it up to Leon as he reappeared with the cash. “What do you want?”
He gave a shrug. “I don’t care. Nothing with shrimp.”
An uncomfortable pit settled in her stomach, but she tried to keep her smile bright. “Well, you’ll have to tell me how well I do on guessing what you like. And I hope I’m graded on a curve,” she said, hoping for at least a small grin.
Leon simply shrugged again and headed back to the couch, causing the pit in her stomach to worsen.
She had to tell herself it was just whatever medication he was on for the pain. Nothing more. But as she perused the menu, she couldn’t shake the thought that for the second time today he had reminded her of 1998, only this time his face looked like it did more toward the end of that night.
Claire eventually dialed the number, having decided on beef and broccoli, sweet and sour chicken, and two orders of fried rice, figuring she could just let Leon pick whichever one he wanted more. And as she eyed the bills he had left on the counter for her, she added on some dumplings and fried wontons, figuring he could keep any leftovers for the next few days. After all, she couldn’t imagine his fridge looking any better than the cabinets had.
“Should be here in half an hour,” she said, walking into the living room. After hesitating for a moment, glancing between Leon on the couch and the television which played old reruns of a comedy, Claire began to lower herself to the floor.
“You can sit on the couch,” Leon said, already starting to sit up.
“You’re the one who just got out of the hospital. You can lay down if you want.”
He stared at her, eyebrows furrowed, and sat up fully before patting the other side of the couch.
She knew he was trying his best to remain upright—he had to be, based on the way he gently swayed and jerked back up—but it wasn’t long into their wait that Leon’s head brushed her shoulder. At first it was the lightest of touches, almost as if he were asking permission, until eventually the full weight of him rested against her. Every breath felt like a fight for Claire, partially because she didn’t want to disturb him, but also because she wanted to make sure they were as even and regular as possible. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could only hope he either couldn’t hear it or was too tired to notice. Despite keeping her eyes trained on the television, she had no idea what was happening in the show. Her mind was too preoccupied with every small movement of her own body and whether or not Leon could feel it.
It wasn’t as if this was the first time they had ever been this close. There were several nights spent in hotel rooms after escaping Raccoon City where the three of them shared a bed. She had lost track of how many times they helped each other change bandages or even do something as simple as wash each other’s hair during that time. And while she certainly remembered her heart jumping in her throat or butterflies forming in her stomach then, it never rivaled the nervousness she felt right now.
Maybe it was because it had been such a long time since they had done anything like this. After too many years spent apart, their individual orbits had grabbed onto too many different experiences, making what happened during those days seem unrecognizable. Maybe it was because sometimes those experiences put them at odds with each other or pit them on different sides. Perhaps now it was simply too awkward to imagine them being this close, as if their differences were now greater than their similarities and it was the same as having a stranger on her shoulder. Or maybe it was because in this moment, everything seemed so normal, like they were just two people curled up on a couch together after a long day. Like this happened all the time.
But this isn’t normal.
And this doesn’t happen all the time.
“Hey, Leon?” she said softly, almost regretting waking him.
He stirred and lifted his head, mumbling out an apology.
“Did something happen in Spain?”
And there it was. The exact same look he gave her when she asked a similar question roughly six years ago. And it answered everything.
Leon blinked slowly and cleared his throat before shifting his gaze to somewhere on the floor. “That’s classified information,” he said, voice thick with something that had nothing to do with drowsiness. “I really can’t…”
Without even stopping to second guess herself, Claire reached out a hand and placed it over his, heart aching at the way he flinched in surprise. “I know,” she said, emotion coating her voice as well. “I’m really sorry.”
The knock on the door made them both jump apart and sit there in a moment of shock before Claire stood up to answer it.
The food sat on the counter awkwardly for a moment as they both tried not to look at each other. Eventually Claire admitted that she ordered two entrees so that way Leon could pick, and Leon said that Claire wouldn’t get any points for that and she’d have to study harder. They both agreed to just split the food, since he still couldn’t give her a concrete answer on what he wanted.
“You really didn’t have to order so much,” Leon said, poking at one of the pieces of chicken.
“You paid for it technically,” Claire reminded him. “And besides, I figured it would be good for you to have some leftovers for a bit. I mean, I doubt you’re going to be leaving your apartment much anytime soon.”
He chewed his food slowly, staring off into middle distance with glassy eyes. Eventually he gave a half shrug.
“Do you want me to stay for a couple days? Just until you’re back on your feet?” Claire did her best to not let the growing worry she felt show in her expression, but she couldn’t help but begin to chew on her bottom lip.
Leon clearly noticed this, eyes darting down for a moment, before he shook his head and shrank away from her. “No. No, it’s fine.” He exhaled heavily through his nose. “I’m fine.”
“I really wouldn’t mind,” she said, setting her plate of food down on the floor and turning to face him directly. “I don’t have to be back at work for another week, and I didn’t have any concrete plans or anything.”
“No.” He stood up too quickly and grimaced from the movement.
Claire trailed after him as he took the half-eaten plate into the kitchen, following him through the apartment just like she would through the universe. “Leon!”
“I don’t need help,” he said, plate hovering over the trash can. Eventually he turned and placed it in the fridge, uncovered. He remained in the corner, staring at the white door in front of him with tense shoulders and a set jaw. “You don’t”—he sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes—“have to worry about me.”
Everything from the last six years bubbled up in Claire’s chest like a scream that was begging to be set free. There was a raging fire of anger and grief that she could have unleashed if she wanted to and if there was any oxygen between them to fuel it. Instead, she took a hesitant step forward and swallowed hard. Then another, then another. She placed a gentle hand on Leon’s arm and held it there until he looked at her. “Don’t push me away,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
“You don’t have to stay,” he said equally as quiet, voice wavering. “I’ll be fine.”
Her fingers twitched against his skin. “I want to stay.”
Eventually, she managed to coax him back onto the couch where she finished her dinner, Leon occasionally stealing pieces of food off her plate with his fingers. The television droned on while they sat in silence, and once the plate was clear—Leon eating more than half of what was left, which put Claire’s mind at ease—she got up to wash it and put away the leftovers. By the time she returned, Leon was already sprawled out on the couch again, eyes closed.
Smiling to herself, Claire sat down on the floor as quietly as she could in front of the couch so that Leon’s head was near her shoulder. If she glanced to the side, she was able to see his resting face in the glow of the TV. An entire episode of the show she still didn’t know the plot of went by as she listened to Leon softly breathing behind her. Then a particularly loud commercial blared, and she felt Leon startle behind her.
“You can sit up here,” he mumbled, shifting around until he was sitting up.
Claire knew better than to argue with him at this point, so she got up and sat next to him. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
He nodded blinking sleep out of his eyes. “You know,” he said, looking down as he picked at the corner of his thumbnail, “I have a followup appointment in a few days. It would be kind of nice to not have to call a cab.”
“I’d be more than happy to,” she said, trying not to be too concerned over why they would need to follow up with him so soon over just some broken ribs, cuts, and bruises. “As payment though, you have to let me cook you some real food.”
Despite the tiredness still etched into his features, Leon smirked. “You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll take you up on it.”
Claire beamed at him and then turned her attention back to the TV. It only took her a moment though to notice Leon beginning to nod off out of the corner of her eye. “You can lay down again if you want,” she offered. “I’ve got a shoulder or a lap. Or you can head to your own bed and just go to sleep for real. Don’t feel like you have to stay out here on my account.”
He turned to her, first looking at her shoulder and then to her legs before quickly averting his eyes. “I’ve got to take some of those pills in an hour. Can’t go to bed yet.”
“Then come here,” she said, gesturing toward herself with both hands. “I’ll wake you up in an hour if you’re not awake.”
She could almost see the gears turning in Leon’s head and could have sworn his face turned a shade pinker as he thought about it, but it could have just been the light from the television. After a few moments that felt much longer than they actually were, he hesitantly moved closer and slowly rested against her. Claire could feel his muscles relax one by one as the seconds ticked by until he had fully melted against her side. The same nerves she felt before before returned but to a lesser degree. And without giving it much thought, she placed a tender kiss against his head.
Leon stiffened and then moved away, but not as far away as Claire was afraid he was going to. Instead of retreating to the other side of the couch, his face remained only inches from hers, Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes flickered down to her lips. His breath tickled her skin as he raised a hand and cupped her face, tracing the corner of her mouth with his thumb questioningly. He leaned in closer, eyes now meeting hers until Claire gave a small nod.
His lips were rough, chapped, but there was such a tenderness in the way he pressed them against hers that it didn’t matter. The softness of it all—the way he held her face, now with both hands, the hesitation before each touch of his lips, and the gentle, almost silent, sighs he let out every time they parted—made her heart ache in a way it hadn’t in a long time. She knew it couldn’t last, not with the way everything was. Their lives were too messy. They were only able to be near each other for short moments before life flung them apart until the next time gravity brought them back. But there was also a relief despite the ache, a sort of release of the tension that had been building for as long as he could remember.
All too fast, it was over, and Leon rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” he whispered, and she couldn’t be certain of what for exactly. For staying? Helping? Being there all these years? The kiss itself?
It didn’t really matter though, not for tonight, not to her. For now, she would let Leon lay against her as he drifted in and out of sleep. In an hour she would wake him up for a dose of whatever medication he was given. In two days she would drive him back to the hospital and wait outside wondering about all the things he couldn’t tell her. After that? They would find each other again and again, just like they always did.
For now, their hearts beat next to each other and their lips tingled, hoping it wouldn’t be for the last time.