THAT NIGHT

He dreamt about her again, this time a dream that woke him with a slight startle. Blue-green eyes glanced groggily about the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the stark brightness of the television screen ahead. Leon sat up slowly, joints cracking from the stiff and uncomfortable position in which he'd fallen asleep on the couch. Two empty bottles of Heineken and a half-full bottle of gin sat atop scattered papers on the oak coffee table in front of him. The dirty-blonde reached for the gin and twisted it open, mind still fuzzy from sleep and filled with sporadic, senseless images from his dream. He'd fallen asleep in the middle of the day again, watching some show that he couldn't remember and waking up just as the sun began to set. Recent work schedules hadn't been very kind to him, and it showed; he could've sworn his already high alcohol tolerance was probably even higher now.

Leon stood and gulped down the shot, deciding that one wasn't enough as he grabbed the bottle yet again. It'd be impossible to attempt sleep again, at least not until later that night. He couldn't remember the last time he had a "normal" sleeping schedule. Setting the shot glass down on the TV stand as he passed it, the agent grabbed his black leather jacket from the hall closet and slipped it on. A quiet walk on the town, maybe some coffee at the café down the block, whatever it took to snap out of that dream he still felt clouding his mind.

The door creaked shut, dead leaves crunching beneath the soles of his shoes as he exited down the apartment building hallway, leaves he probably tracked in earlier but never bothered to clean up. As expected, the air was chilly that evening in Washington D.C. Leon crossed the street quickly, not surprised to see quite a few other people with the same idea, enjoying the pleasant weather and a relaxing night out. Lucky for him, the sleepy haze had begun to fade and confusing images from his dream were already forgotten; the only thing left was the stinging image of her.

That wasn't anything new, at least. The image of her burned in the back of his mind since several years ago, the first time he'd met her, repainted brighter and sharper each fateful year he'd see her again. There had always been too much time between each meeting, too much happening in the spaces to ever get used to the feelings that stirred within him every time he saw her. Leon's brows furrowed in unintentional frustration at his own thoughts that picked away at every detail, every moment, everything there ever was to think about that woman that gave him hell when she was away. And, evidently, that was quite frequent.

In casual situations, he'd always been rather easygoing, always the "take life as it comes" type. Yet, that never changed the way his mind would prod and pry at things until it made him sick to think anymore, and conveniently she was its favorite victim. The blonde futilely attempted to shake the incessant thoughts, crossing the sidewalk where the café sat just up ahead. It had been a year since he'd last seen her, since the incidents that plagued Tall Oaks and other parts of the world, incidents he'd learned details of over that time but still never quite figured out. Memories of her were enough to drive him mad, unknown information regarding cases months-old even more so.

Leon glanced up quickly after realizing he had his head hanging low almost the entire way. In a strange way it comforted him that there were several other people scattered about, like individual distractions he could entertain his mind with instead of relaying the image of her unceasingly. Pathetic, perhaps, but that's how it'd been for almost two decades. That thought alone made him shudder. Decades of what felt like drowning in a confusing, cycling hell, and catching a breath every so often only to plunge back into the cycle again. He'd tried being with other women over the years, but he couldn't ever forget. He couldn't forget and it stopped him every time.

There.

The dirty-blonde stared at the space between two short buildings, a small alleyway that led behind the café and cut off at the next street over. He'd seen something there, a small fleck of short, black hair. But it was gone. He stared into the emptiness with confusion written boldly on his lightly-tanned face, feeling as though he'd seen a ghost and could not come to terms with it. Was that…?

His legs moved first, his mind working to catch up. It was probably someone else, some other woman or even a man, a stranger from the crowd he'd been surrounded by the entire time. He wanted to try. But, the odds that it was her; what was he doing? Why was he still running?

Leon slowed to a walk once he reached the opening of the alley, empty as his logic had already determined. Part of him insisted this was all a stupid mistake, to turn back and continue on with his life and forget already; but a piece of him wavered. A piece of him wanted to believe that maybe this was another fateful year. Maybe even the last.

He quickened his pace again, searching down the alley that grew with darkness the further he got from the building entrances. Leon peered around the corner, noticing the stray bottles and other garbage strewn about the alley, things he probably would have heard shuffling around if someone had passed through. He continued on through the rubbish and became rather disoriented, unsure of how far through he was or when the alley would cut off. Much to his dismay, a few more paces and his answer was presented. The alley ended. The street lights shone brightly. The front of the café was down the street behind him. No one else was there.

Disheartened, the agent returned to the sidewalk that would take him back up to the proper street, the place he should have stayed instead of following the ghost of his dream. Leon rubbed at his temples, in disbelief that he hallucinated such a thing, discouraged and disappointed in himself for letting it get to his head. What was he anymore, outside of work? He'd long felt that his personal life became somewhat of a train wreck. He'd become nothing but one-night stands and bottles of gin.

"Leon," A voice, familiar and strong yet seductively smooth, coming from right behind him. The man stopped in his tracks, unsure if his mind was overreacting again, unsure if he had officially lost all sanity within him. Dare he check the source of that voice? Dare he risk the feeling of disappointment and possible mental instability?

He turned.

"Ada," the name fell out of his mouth ungracefully, in a way that did no justice to its owner. The image in his mind burned, like oil lit up by a match; burned and engrained the memory of every curve, every sharp feature, every single detail of her into his mind so that he wouldn't forget it again. She wore that typical, small smirk upon her light pink lips, like she knew. Like she knew how his mind burned, and she loved to make it so.

"The bar is down that way, or have you low tolerance?" she spoke in her usual way, sarcasm lacing every word. Leon fell into character automatically, the visage she knew pushing out the broken and confused man underneath. That's how it always was around her.

"High tolerance, actually," he returned the smirk and took a step forward, brows suddenly knitting together in seriousness. "Why are you here?"

Ada crossed her arms, looking up at him with a mock-innocence that tugged at his heart. "Not happy to see me? And here I thought it'd be a pleasant surprise…"

"That's not it," he replied a bit too quickly, but forced himself to brush it off. "I just…after China—"

He realized she had stepped closer, but never noticed when. Her light brown eyes glittered beautifully under the faint light of the half-moon above, the street lights casting shadows under her other features in a way that mystified her even more. She was close enough that Leon recognized the scent of her perfume, a light but refined scent that wasn't too delicate but quickly became addicting. Their gazes locked and it seemed the entire street had vanished, and he almost felt as though he'd gone reeling back into that briefly-forgotten dream.

"I'm here on business, as usual," she answered him smoothly, after what felt to him like centuries of staring into her glittering, catlike eyes. "But it seems I have the evening off. Care to join me for coffee?" The dark-haired woman's smirk melted into a soft smile, one that threw Leon for surprise.

"Coffee," he muttered, "I was just heading over to that café up the street." Stupid mistake again, he suddenly realized she must have already noticed that if she teased him about the bar.

"You always seem to have your hands tied when I want to talk," she teased, walking past him in a manner he'd seen too many times.

"I could say the same about you," he turned to follow, still feeling as though it was surreal, like he'd wake up any moment in front of the TV again. "But I think we can spare one night." He grinned.

Ada returned the grin and started off ahead of him, that same air of confidence in every step. Normally he would have tried to pace himself to walk beside her, but he appreciated following behind her this time, not for any particular reason. It just felt like she was really there, right in front of him. Existing with him and all the other people in the city around them—no zombies, no war; it felt…normal. It felt real.

He had a myriad of questions he was dying to ask, and it was hard to contain them, but he kept silent behind her. Instead, he distracted himself with her movements, the way her hair bounced lightly when she turned her head to glance down the street, the way her lower lip fell open just slightly as she looked ahead for the café sign. The short black dress she wore was body-hugging, lining her frame and accentuating every enticing curve. God, she was there.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, her voice so faint he felt as though he'd dreamt the question.

"Yeah," his voice cracked, and he covered it up by quickly holding the café door open for her. Ada proceeded inside and he followed shortly after, the smell of fresh coffee hitting him the moment he stepped in. The place wasn't bustling but there were a few low voices of conversation, a comfortable balance. Leon absently touched his fingertips to his cheek and felt the heat on his skin, his suspicions confirmed. Ada was already at the counter ordering a latte, her presence like a bright beacon in a place filled with strangers, people that saw her as nothing more than a passerby. He almost wished he could feel that way, see the discreet presence the way they saw it.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she took her drink, smiling at the man behind the register the same way she smiled at everyone, but lacking the usual glint in her eye. Leon would go out on a limb and say that glint was only ever, or at least only usually, directed at him.

He ordered a regular black coffee despite not being much of a caffeine drinker (beer was his choice morning beverage), and followed behind Ada as she took a window seat in the back corner of the café. He sat across from her, still staring at her intently, afraid to look away in case she'll vanish. Like always. A slight grimace skewed his features as he took a bitter sip from the steaming cup, his gaze leaving her for that split moment. When he looked again, she was already staring at him, narrowing her eyes and smirking in her usual way.

"So, tell me about yourself," she rested a cheek in her hand as she stared, sarcasm filling every fiber of her being, from her mocking grin to the slight inflection in her voice. Leon wanted to laugh, and he managed a chuckle, but he was too confused about her simply being there to find the humor. "Still wondering why I'm here, hm?" Her grin began to fade. He started to feel guilty for being so suspicious of her, but he didn't know any different.

"I'm sorry, Ada," he replied in a low tone, peeling his gaze away to stare down into the black pool in his cup. "This just happens all the time, right? We see each other, we part ways…it's a cycle." Leon felt that he looked weak, though he always felt that way around her, like she could see right through him. He expected her usual patronizing smile, but when he looked at her again, there was something different. Her gaze was unreadable aside from a small glint of…sadness? He couldn't quite place it. The corners of her lips were uncharacteristically turned down, not quite a frown but certainly not the smirk he'd grown to know. The guilt in the pit of his stomach returned.

"You're right, it is," she answered, leaning forward in her seat and looking him dead in the eyes. "We knew it would have to be like that long ago. Remember?"

"I—yeah. But…" The dirty-blonde stared down helplessly at the small table, searching its blank surface for a proper response.

"We have demanding jobs, Leon. That's the way it is."

He turned his gaze to her again and shook his head slowly, not understanding how she could accept all of it so easily. He knew that's who she was, easy to let things go and stick to her important duties, but he never understood how. Did she never suffer from a single emotion? Part of him envied her for such ability, but another part of him ached; he wished she knew the feeling, could relate with him. But, perhaps, she did. Perhaps she was just better at hiding it than he was.

"I know we can't change anything," he began carefully, thinking about his words before speaking. "But, if nothing else, I just want to understand."

"Understand what?" Ada's signature smirk began to reform.

"This."

"This?"

"This," he gestured between them, realizing how close they actually were but quickly discarding the thought. "Us."

Smirking wholeheartedly, she seemed to sit back slightly. "It's complicated."

The words stung him harder than he imagined, like a knife cutting through tender skin. "I know."

They stared at one another, Leon's expression blank as he tried to calculate the woman behind the seductive smirk. The words hung in the air and antagonized his busying thoughts, enhancing the reality of the situation he found himself in and making him hyper-aware of every action. She never wavered, but he felt himself cracking, exposing the layer of frustrated confusion the longer she stared deep into his eyes.

"Overthinking doesn't seem to be your niche, Leon," she spoke suddenly, her smile growing wider as the confusion grew on his face. "It'll take the fun out of this."

Leon sat back in his seat and looked out the window, trying to take her words lightly as suggested but still uncertain about so much. He still wanted to ask her what really happened a year ago, what that tape was all about, who (or what) she really was. Yet, she was here in front of him, alive. She was alright. And he knew that was the only answer he'd receive. It was better than nothing.

He watched her carefully as she gracefully sipped from the paper cup, studying her details for the millionth time. Her eyes rested on him, face plastered with that smirk. "Not very talkative tonight," she accused.

"Got a lot on my mind," he answered, but it was clear she already knew that. He eyed her again, this time debating whether he should take her somewhere. It almost felt like he was walking on glass, that if he even moved from that seat everything would shatter and she'd leave again. She gave him a look that said she knew he wanted to ask her something. He swallowed thickly. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Sure," she replied with a smile, rising from her seat. He felt as though some of the weight lifted, that she didn't mind spending a little more time with him. Still feeling she would disappear, however, he stood quickly and followed her outside, the chilly night air stinging their cheeks once they stepped out.

Ada led the way down the sidewalk toward a large, open park, and Leon wondered how long she had been staying there; she seemed to know the area very well. He wondered: did she expect to run into him?

He caught up with the mysterious woman and walked beside her, the action now feeling a bit different since the last time he'd done that, a year ago. He watched her from the corner of his eye, the way she stared straight ahead with her delicate lips still curled into a small smile. They stepped onto a narrower part of the sidewalk and she shifted closer, perhaps unintentionally, but it caught him off guard regardless. Their hands brushed briefly, and the blonde didn't dare to move, but Ada hardly seemed phased by the contact. The touch reminded him how badly he wanted to take her hand, to feel that contact, the security that she couldn't run away if he held on. Despite the great urge, he pushed it away. He couldn't make any advances, even such as simple as holding her hand, not just yet.

The air had gotten colder since they left the café, and he felt the slight breeze bite his skin and chap his hands. He glanced beside him and noticed the faint pink hue on Ada's cheeks, and she pulled the fitted, red jacket closer to herself. "Are you cold?" he asked, though he wasn't sure what he would do if she replied. Anything would feel too risky for the moment.

"It's certainly not warm out," she replied with usual sarcasm, looking rather amused. Leon took a chance, he dared himself to act despite his mind telling him no. He couldn't bring himself to resist it. He gently put an arm over her shoulders, carefully pulling her closer into his warmth, but gave her the chance to move away if she didn't feel comfortable. Her body seemed to stiffen briefly and it tore at him, but he insisted it was likely instinct and brushed the thought away. Still, she never moved away from him. Instead, she looked to him with a smirk slightly different from before, as if pointing out his new sense of determination. He returned the look.

"How long have you been out here?" he asked after a moment, studying the nearly perfect shape of her eyes. "In D.C., I mean."

"A few months," she replied casually, and he was surprised she even told him that much. "I never took a break after the previous incident."

Leon chuckled. "I feel you there." He shook his head at the reminder of his slowly worsening drinking and sleeping habits. "Don't you just want to get away sometimes…" It was less of a question and more of a spoken thought. She snickered.

"Maybe the cop life isn't for you, Leon."

He scoffed at her remark, realizing how comfortable her company had become. Even his overactive thoughts seemed to calm even slightly, and nothing else existed to him but her and that moment and them. Maybe that first step was all he needed to take.

The smile forcing its way onto his face was hard to contain, and he didn't try. It graced his attractive features and he embraced the feeling, finding it hard to remember that last time he smiled out of pure joy before that moment. Ada's arm briefly bumped his side as they continued down the street, reminding him she's really there and she hadn't tried to leave. It was in that moment he remembered something, the thought coming seemingly out of nowhere; he remembered something he'd been thinking about that whole year.

Leon stopped walking suddenly, and she looked at him expectantly. "I have something of yours," he spoke as if he just had an epiphany. She quirked a thin brow at him. "I wanted to give it back once I saw you again."

"And here I am," she smirked and pulled away from him, and he was nearly overcome with grief until she said, "Where's your place?"

Those words made his heart jump, but he quickly stamped out any more thinking than was necessary. He gestured behind himself at the apartment building around the opposite corner, a confused smile on his face as if asking whether she was serious about going with him. Leon was, for lack of a better term, shocked. Maybe she just really cared about what she had left behind, but he was still amazed that she was so easygoing the entire time. If it weren't for the fact that neither of them were in the middle of a global crisis, he'd be more suspicious of her. Still, part of him wondered.

"It'll only take us a few minutes to get there," he said with a nod, and led the way down the opposite street. It confused him that she didn't even bother asking exactly what it was that he had, but perhaps she already knew. Perhaps, if miracles existed, she just wanted an excuse to spend more time with him.

Ada briefly gazed up at the tall building and Leon held the front entrance open for her, stepping inside the dimly-lit hallway after her. He remembered the alcohol lying around and whatever other messes consumed his tiny apartment and began to feel rather embarrassed, even despite knowing that Ada would only react sarcastically and probably not even care. They approached the front door and he rustled through his pocket for the key, pushing the door open and allowing for the mysterious woman to enter first. The disaster he left behind in the apartment looked even worse now, with reports left lying carelessly about random parts of the room and the TV left on some strange, probably adult-rated channel.

Leon cleared his throat and stepped in past her, turning off the TV and attempting to make some of the mess at least somewhat less noticeable. "I wasn't expecting company," he explained lightheartedly, catching the sarcasm in her facial expression but appreciating that she hadn't said anything.

"So, where is it?" she asked as if becoming impatient, but he knew that she was only giving him a hard time on purpose. She crossed her arms expectantly, and he quickly shuffled through a drawer in his TV stand, trying to remember where he left it. Suddenly remembering, he excused himself to his bedroom to dig inside the closet, mentally slapping himself for not letting her get comfortable first before ditching her by the front door. He searched inside the inner pocket of the same leather jacket he'd worn a year ago when he received the object, a small makeup compact that he liked carrying with him as much as possible. Just in case.

That "just in case" moment was here, he realized. Ada was there and he had her makeup and he would return it to her just as he promised himself, despite the constant doubts that he'd ever see her again. It almost hurt to give it back, to lose the one thing that had kept him going the past year, the constant believing that he would find her again and return it to her. If she left that night and he never saw her again, he'd have nothing of hers to keep, nothing to drive him to find her again despite the odds. Nothing but a ghost of that pale hand brushing against his, of the dreams and the engrained image plaguing him every other night.

Leon exited the small room and found Ada standing by the coffee table, holding the half-empty bottle of gin, probably studying the label. Her jacket had been set aside on the armrest of the dingy old couch. "You drink?" he asked with an amused grin.

"Not frequently, but I know a good bottle of gin when I see one," she returned the smile and twisted open the cap, the action providing an answer to the question he was just about to ask. She poured each of them a shot, not bothering to ask if the glasses were unused and apparently not concerned.

Taking his glass as she handed it to him, Leon nodded in appreciation and sipped, his other hand gripping the makeup compact in his pocket. She was already here, having a drink with him, expecting him to give it back. There wasn't any sense holding onto such petty things; whether he had it or not, her leaving tonight could mean the end regardless. There was nothing he could do about it.

They stared at one another intently as they took a drink, Ada's gaze flicking downward at his pocket. Without anything else to say or do, the blonde took a step forward, setting the empty shot glass down on the coffee table beside them. He looked down into her glittering eyes that stared up at him curiously, yet full of amusement. Gripping the compact, he pulled it out of his pocket and held it out between them. She stared down at it, a wide smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I wanted to give this back to you when I saw you again," he repeated what he mentioned earlier, staring down at the simple object with unbelievable longing. Her thin, pale hand slowly reached to touch it, and she took it from him, took that feeling of hope to see her again along with it.

"I wasn't expecting to get it back," she admitted with a somewhat bitter smile. Leon began to wonder if she ever thought about seeing him again, if such a thing ever concerned her. "Thank you."

He nodded, but his expression remained the same, a mixture of helplessness and the utter confusion he'd had almost the entire night. Ada tilted her head just barely to the side, giving a look as if asking what's wrong without uttering a word. The dim, bluish light leaking in from the partly-open blinds illuminated her features beautifully, much like the light outside except with more darkness enhancing her mystery. She was pale but not pallid; her skin had a subtle glow, and her cheeks just faintly hued pink, perhaps from the chilly air. However, her lips; if there was anything that burned more fervently in Leon's mind, it was those delicate, soft lips that he still remembered almost two decades later. He could never forget how they felt, tasted; he wanted more than anything to feel that again.

Without intention, the blonde slowly lifted his hand to the mysterious woman's soft cheek, realizing only then that his hands were very subtly trembling. She stared deeply at him, as if expecting and almost challenging, and suddenly he found it incredibly hard to keep staring into her captivatingly dark eyes. So, he closed his own blue-green ones, not afraid this time of her running away the moment he stopped looking. He still felt her there, standing still as ever, but there.

Leon leaned carefully downward, his eyes flitting open just barely when he began to feel their breaths mingle against one another. She was so utterly, dangerously close, and she still hadn't moved in the slightest. It would almost be surprising if she let him get away with it; let him steal something from her that she'd only given him once before. He suddenly felt a firm hand press down on his chest, and their eyes met. Ada pushed her hand against him, pressing her once partly-opened lips together and staring at him with eyes that looked unusually drained. She wouldn't let him, as expected.

"Why," he whispered, more of a statement than a question. He still didn't move much farther away despite her efforts. She couldn't respond; her glassy eyes flicked briefly away as if trying to think of an explanation for her hesitating. Too much had already happened; he'd gotten too close to move away now, to let her deeply-buried, unexplained yet evident concerns take over and push them apart. Maybe she just needed someone to take the chance, for her sake.

There wasn't a brief hesitation this time, on his part at least. Leon pressed his still trembling hand to her cheek more firmly, letting his fingers rest in her dark locks. He leaned once more, ignoring the pressure of her hand against him, and pressed his lips gently against hers. She hesitated and he felt it, but hesitate was all she'd done. Her lips parted just slightly and she accepted it, accepted him, and returned the favor he so desperately wanted. A cool hand gently touched the back of his neck, sending electricity down his spine that ignited a furnace within his chest. It became much different than the kiss they shared many years ago; this one felt careful although certain. This one brimmed with desire he knew they shared.

Ada opened her eyes and slowly pulled away, and the blonde savored the lasting feeling, the ghost of their kiss still dancing on his lips. He stared deeply at her, not knowing what to say, mind numb from the surprising interaction and the fact that they were still so incredibly close. There was a faint tap from beside them, and Leon looked briefly to see that she had set the compact down on the table beside their empty shot glasses.

In that instant, things changed. Leon suddenly felt those cool hands against his neck, one loosely entangling itself in his hair at the back of his head. As he turned his gaze to her again, Ada was leaning up this time, bringing his face down to meet with hers in another kiss. However, it was different. Her once-delicate, soft lips pressed firmly against his, hungrily, dare he suggest. His own lips parted and he was too shocked to even think about what was happening but he felt eager. They wanted each other and he didn't even think to question that anymore.

Leon's strong hands no longer trembled, and they rested upon the curve of her hips, gently pulling her closer against him. Their bodies pressed against one another and he realized he wasn't cold, and that the air around them began feeling rather warm instead. He broke their heated kiss first, their breaths already becoming heavy. The look in Ada's catlike eyes was dark, sultry, and Leon couldn't help but swallow thickly at the way she slowly bit her lip. He felt her now-warm hand snake under his shirt and trail his spine, his own hand finding the small of her waist and holding it firmly. His other hand turned and he touched her neck gently with the back of his fingers, feeling the small bones and smooth, unmarked skin.

Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss just under her jaw, trailing down the same gentle kisses to her collarbone. He bit, just barely, at the protruding bone, feeling her thin fingers begin to dig into his back. In that moment his mind was quiet aside from the craving for every part of her, and the other antagonizing thoughts had ceased. He was overcome with that want for her and nothing else, and with the idea that she actually wanted him, and every gentle nibble at her neck and touch of her trailing fingers felt more right than he even imagined.

†††

The scent of her still lingered in her hair and on her slightly slick skin, and Leon hoped it wouldn't leave him even after she did. His face was buried in the back of her neck, and he took in deep breaths of her, absently analyzing the pattern of her breathing compared to his. Neither of them was asleep but they had been quiet for some time, how long he couldn't tell, but time had become a rather irrelevant subject much earlier in the night.

"Hey," he whispered, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke.

"Hm?" Ada's fingertips slowly traced the back of his hand and over his rough knuckles. His hand was pressed against her waist, holding her close to him.

"Do you know that I have feelings for you?"

She chuckled softly, resting her hand on his. "I would hope so after what happened."

He couldn't resist a laugh, one that took more effort than he expected, and soon he realized how groggy he actually was. She'd felt the laugh against her back and smiled, shaking her head slightly at how typical he was. The blonde pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, pointlessly thinking about the ridges he felt in her ribs. He fought with everything in him to stay awake, to resist the sleepiness that slowly began clouding his sparse thoughts.

There was no telling how much time had passed, and he certainly couldn't guess, but after a little while he'd almost considered giving up, falling asleep even though he was scared she would leave…

"Tonight is the last night," she spoke suddenly, tone low but far from a whisper. Leon opened his eyes, the fog of sleep beginning to drift away again.

"What?"

"The last night I'll be in D.C.," she explained somewhat grimly, or at least that's how it seemed. The blonde felt his mouth go dry and his heart began to ache. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"Where are you going?" he asked, not bothering to hide the hint of desperation in his voice.

"I can't say."

He wanted to protest, to tell her to stay with him, to insist she at least tell him why. But, he couldn't. There wasn't a thing he could say because he knew; all along he knew that he would have to face this eventually. He knew that night lasted far longer than he could have ever dreamed, but that it would not last forever. It was clear that he and Ada never had a "forever", and perhaps never would. Yet, the fact that she had been there for so long and he'd only seen her now, when it was too late; it tore at him, ate away at the previously satisfied feelings and enhanced the fear that unceasingly sat in the back of his mind.

Leon buried his face into the back of her neck again and sighed softly. "Okay," he replied quietly, voice weak but he didn't care. He was too tired, too broken to care and at this point he knew every emotion was exposed and there was no sense pretending to like it when he didn't, and she knew he didn't. Though he wanted to say something more, he simply couldn't find the right words, and instead wrapped his arms tighter around her, hoping it would get the message across. She put a hand over his and interlocked their fingers, and he assumed she understood.

Another silence he couldn't be bothered to measure, but the words he truly wanted to say were plastered in the back of his sleepy, slowly slipping mind. Yet, knowing that she would leave the next day, perhaps to never return, he wanted to fight off sleep more than anything, and spend every possible moment he could savoring the feeling of her resting in his arms.

"Ada," he mumbled a whisper, tiredly wondering if she even heard it, prepared to give up if she didn't.

"Yes, Leon?"

But in the jumble of sleepy thoughts, he'd forgotten what he wanted to say.

†††

And then, he remembered.

Leon opened his eyes suddenly, the lighting of the room strange to him in the haze of sleep; though still somewhat dim, it wasn't bluish, and instead the streams of light that leaked in were colored in bright whites and gold. He sat up slowly, feeling emptiness beside him that he didn't remember falling asleep to. Turning quickly, his heart sank. The space beside him was empty.

"Shit," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair and feeling as though his heart would stop beating at any moment. In some sick, pathetic way, he wished it would.

The blonde stood and crossed the room to the other side of the bed, staring down at the emptiness and wondering if it had all been a dream. Something from the corner of his eye caught his attention however, and he turned. A small note was left on the nightstand beside the bed. Atop it, the makeup compact.

Brows furrowing in confusion, Leon picked up the compact and stared at it, trying to understand why it was still there. He rubbed his eyes before taking up the note, looking carefully at the thin, finely-written letters:

Sorry I had to leave so soon, Leon.

Hold onto this compact for me. I'll need it next time I see you.

Love,

Ada

Leon exited his bedroom as he read the note over several times, brushing his thumb against the lipstick kiss mark on the corner of the paper. He sat on the dingy old couch in his living room, still shirtless and in need of a shower, staring with bewilderment at the note. Looking to the compact in his hand, he gripped it firmly.

He then placed the note neatly on the coffee table, and grabbed the bottle of gin.

AN: Hope you enjoyed this oneshot :) I'd love to hear your feedback, so please leave a review!