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Assigned onto another mission. Assigned to another hell.
He probably looks so damn miserable right now—he's covered in sweat and his cargos are absolutely drenched. you, the person he was sent to rescue, has definitely noticed by now; there's been an obvious squelch in his step ever since its started seeping into his shoes.
He'd put off explaining his condition to you, because every time he tries to explain it to... literally anyone, he's always met with mixed reactions. Mostly negative. But he can't keep ignoring the damn elephant in the room—or rather—the fucking sticky ass snail trail he's been leaving behind on the floor.
With a frustrated sigh, he stops in his tracks and turns to look at you.
"Go ahead. Ask." Leon grumbles, rubbing at his temples. God kill him now. "I can see the way you're staring at me, so just... just hurry up and get it out of your system so we can fucking move on."
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