warning: ooc, Leon is alcoholic, (used to be) fwb Heleon, mutual love but never get to be together, bad writing.
Clink. The sound of ice cubes hitting the glass echoed as Leon poured himself another drink.
It had been over a year. More than a year since the day he first met her, more than a year since he had successfully proved innocence for the two of them. And also already been nearly three months…
Nearly three months since they had stopped.
Leon didn’t know exactly when was it started, but the moment that mission ended, in the blink of an eye, he found himself tangled with her in the bed.
He still remembered that first night vividly, the way she held him and soothing him, saying they both needed it. The way she told him she just wanted to repay him for everything he had done for her.
So when exactly had they stopped? He don't know. With every glass of whiskey Leon poured for himself, another unanswerable question arose.
Helena. That person was Helena. The one he had risked everything to protect that day. From the beginning to the end, he had stayed by her side. The concept of what began as a simple desire to help to save people had somehow turned into something that dropped down from the sky, swallowed them whole. He understood it better than anyone.
“I know you have feelings for her,” she had said. “We both need this. Don't put too much mind into it.”
But dear Helena, Leon’s feelings for that other woman were real, yes, but they were in the past. Those emotions had faded long ago, almost to the point he had forgotten them. The feelings he carried now were for her. For Helena. How couldn’t she see that?
Leon buried his face in his hand, the other still loosely gripping the whiskey bottle. In just nearly three months, his alcoholism had worsened several times over. Was it worth it, just because he fell this hard for someone? Probably not.
If anyone asked why he never told her how he felt, he would only shake his head and take another sip. He was a coward. Countless excuses, countless fears flooded his mind every time he thought about confessing to Helena. What if she rejected him? What if their relationship fell apart because of it? What if something bad happened to one of them…?
By the time he finally gathered enough courage and prepared himself for any answer, it was already three weeks after they had stopped. But fate just loved to play cruel jokes. When he asked Sherry, Hunnigan, and everyone else he could at the D.S.O…
“Helena’s already left for a mission.”
That was the only answer he received. Hunnigan added a little more, telling him the mission would only last a month. At least they hadn’t thrown the person he loved into some faraway place with no return date, he thought so.
So why had nearly three months already passed? He doesn't know, really doesn't. The day Hunnigan told him she was back, Leon didn’t even think twice, he rushed to D.S.O. headquarter as fast as he could. But when he arrived… she was nowhere to be found.
Was Helena avoiding him? Probably. Since then, he hadn’t managed to meet her properly even once. A few times he caught a glimpse of her walking by, but the moment he tried to chase after her, she had already vanished.
Three weeks ago, he received a bunch of messages from Helena. But thanks to his habit of drowning himself in alcohol, by the time he opened them, she had already deleted almost everything, leaving only one message:
“Leon, I believe that while I was gone, your life has become somewhat better. As for what had happened before… I still genuinely think stopping was better for you.”
After that, she blocked his number. And after losing his entire squad in the latest mission, Leon stopped going to D.S.O. headquarter altogether. In the end, it had been three weeks since they last connected.
Clink. The ice cubes rattled against the glass again, though weaker now as they melted. Leon poured himself another drink. How many glasses had he had tonight? He doesn't know anymore.
Clack. The bottle was set down on the table. The liquid left a burning sensation from the tip of her tongue all the way down her throat.
Helena let out an irritated sigh and leaned back against the sofa. The softness of the cushion did nothing to ease the chaos in her mind.
Over a year. More than a year since she first met him. More than a year since that fateful day she lost her sister, with him by her side.
The way everything suddenly came crashing down on her when she had only wanted to help others… She had heard him talk about it. About how he once wanted to become a cop just to help people, before that fateful first day on the job in Raccoon City.
Was that how he felt back then? She wondered.
But none of that mattered anymore. If anything was turning Helena’s heart into a complete mess, it was what happened nearly three months ago.
Nearly three months ago, she was the one who suggested they stop, stop what they had been doing in bed.
As for how it all began… It was hard to put into words. She didn’t even know when it had started.
She still remembered those nights so clearly. The way he would pull her into his arms with that large, strong body yet touch her with such gentleness. The way he would tell that she didn’t need to act strong in front of him…
“I need this too. You need it. So let’s just call it a thank you,” she had told him, trying to convince herself as much as him.
“You have feelings for her, it’s okay. I understand,” she had said. But did she really understand? Of course not. Because she couldn’t see that those feelings were actually directed toward her.
Two weeks after Helena told them to stop, she was assigned a mission in Siberia, Russia. Every single day in that freezing hell, she missed the warmth of Leon’s bare body wrapped around hers.
One week after she left, Hunnigan told her that he had been searching for her in confusion. How awkward. For Helena, stopping was the best choice for both of them.
After finishing that long, lonely month-long mission in the coldish hell of a country, she returned with only one thought in mind: how to rearrange her work schedule to avoid him.
Three weeks ago, in the middle of a half-drunken night, she poured her heart out to him in a long string of messages. Then, as if sobering up, she deleted nearly all of them, leaving only those few lines.
“Leon, I believe that while I was gone, your life has become somewhat better. As for what had happened before… I still genuinely think stopping was better for you.”
What Leon didn’t know was that it had taken her over an hour just to carefully arrange those words, her finger hovering over the send button again and again, raising and lowering it countless times.
After that, she blocked his number completely. What else could she do? She had to be decisive. If things keep going like this, they would only hurt each other more. She had also heard that in his most recent mission, his entire squad had died just because of a traitor.
The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to run back and pull him into her arms. But thinking like that now was pointless. Soon, she would be permanently transferred to another D.S.O. branch.
Clack. The now-empty bottle was set down on the table.
They had used the most intimate, most carnal acts to comfort themselves and each other. “Just temporary,” they said. But deep down, both of them knew it was far more than that.
Why did things end up like this? Neither of them had the answer. Or perhaps they simply didn’t dare to face it.
It was his fault for not telling her sooner. It was her fault for making the decision alone, believing that stopping would be better for both of them. How ironic, she had been wrong. Their past would now only be remembered with those "what ifs" while their present and future had never been more tangled and painful.
A friends with benefits relationship was easy. Keeping it, turning it into a relationship that lasting and more meaningful, that was the hard part.
Both Leon and Helena had already failed at it. And in the process… they had lost each other forever.
