A Sickly Sweet Reverie (Leon Kennedy X OC) [BOOK 3]

Chapter 20: Tip of my tongue

"You gonna tell me who that handsome gentleman you brought on board with you is?" Margaret asked, her age showing in the creases around her soft smile. I returned her smile, keeping my shoulders loose as I leaned against one of the seats.

"Just a friend from the European branch," I said with a smile.

"Well that's no fun," She huffed, giving me a disapproving look. "If that's the case, when are you finally gonna let me set you up with my nephew?" She pushed, disregarding the looks from the other BSAA employees around us. A scalding glare from me sent their eyes scampering back to their laptops.

"I'll have to pass, mother hen. I am very content in my single life," I answered, shifting from my elbow from its perch on the back of her seat. She clicked her tongue, and waved her hand in mock annoyance.

"Fine, be like that, but one of these days...," She warned.

"Yes, yes, one of these days," I drawled, waving her off with a smile as I turned to stalk through the aisle. The plane was loud with chatter from the agents in the midst of conversation. Most were typing away at their laptops, working to collect data and redirect units for what I'm sure was a mess in the city. It wasn't long before we'd be touching down and slinking off to find the bastard responsible for all this.

I reached the sliding door into the next cabin without garnering much attention from the plane's occupants. Luckily the plane was only at around 60% capacity, leaving a few of the sections entirely open. I slid the door open and hurried in, shutting it briskly behind me. Helena was slumped across two of the plush beige seats to my left, her forearm draped across her eyes while her chest rose and fell with even breaths.

Leon was on the opposite side a few rows farther up, sitting next to the window while staring out at the lightning storm engulfing us. His features were drawn taut, like he was trapped in some dreadful train of thought. I walked over, slumping into the seat next to him.

"You okay?" I asked, leaning forward to see his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," He answered, not taking his eyes off the storm outside. Spears of lightning shot through the dark clouds, painting them shades of gray and blue. Based on his tone, he was anything but okay.

I leaned into the aisle, glancing in both directions to ensure the sliding doors separating the cabins was truly shut before lifting the armrest separating us. He shifted, pulling his eyes from the window as he straightened, allowing me to throw a knee over to straddle his lap. His hands fell at my hips, his thumbs resting just above the line of my belt.

"From where I'm sitting you look pretty great for a dead man," I teased, rubbing the collar of his new shirt between my thumb and index fingers.

"Glad to see one of us is looking on the bright side of things," He said, his thumbs dipping under my jacket to trace idle circles along the skin of my hips.

"Well, one of us has to stay optimistic. Although I cannot fathom why I stepped into the role. After all, my car blew up, and I don't think my insurance covers nuclear sterilization." He couldn't hold back the smile as he shook his head.

"I'm dead and you're out of a car. I guess today just sucks all around then," He hummed, meeting my gaze again. Even the smile on his face couldn't wipe away the shadows frozen in his glacial stare.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, lacing my fingers behind his neck. He looked out the window, and it didn't seem like he would answer. After a few tense moments, his eyes returned to my face.

"It didn't take much for them to turn on me. All the years I've given them, yet with one word from Simmons and I'm made the enemy. Maybe there was something different I could have done to avoid all this..."