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You stared up at the ceiling, fan spinning so quickly the blades were like a blur to your vision. Your nostrils are stuffed, making breathing difficult.
Just a few more seconds on this thermometer. A melodic beep sounded off.
101.2 degrees. Fucking hell. You tossed a palm over your forehead. Skin hotter than the damn stove top in her kitchen. No way were you going anywhere.
Rebecca—and Jill—told you you'd seemed…sickly only a few days ago, but you'd waved them both off, claiming you felt fine and you weren't particularly wrong. Then, as if they'd willed it to be so, this morning your nose was stuffy and throat painful as if thorns wrapped around the inside of it. Not to mention your body's temperature couldn't decide whether all the blood had been drained from it or if you'd stepped foot on the surface of the sun. And you couldn't be assed to go outside to the corner pharmacy.
Nor did you want to inconvenience anyone. But, knowing your teammates, they'd have to be made aware you wouldn't be coming in at the very least.
Mustering all your strength, you pushed yourself up by your palms and planted your feet onto the cold hardwood floor of your apartment. A coughing fit to rival that of a chain smoker overtakes you before settling.
"Damn it," You muttered to yourself, moving to the receiver on the wall in the hallway. Just outside the windows to your right, life in Raccoon City continued. You dialed the familiar number.
Please, don't let Captain Wesker answer. The ringing tone vibrated against your ear in a way that was very unpleasant…did you have an infection there, too? You didn't want that question answered.
A calm, professional, feminine voice answered. "STARs office, Jill speaking."
Thank goodness. You wouldn't have been able to handle speaking to Wesker. You respected the guy plenty, but sometimes talking to him was like navigating a maze that you didn't want to explore.
"Hey Jill, it's Y/N." Your voice sounded scratchier than you'd like. A pitch not usual for you.
"L/N, hey. No offense, but you sound like shit," Jill dropped the professional tone, but you didn't miss the concern either.
A sneeze wracked through your body. "Just imagine how I feel. I'm down for the count today. Think you can let the team know?"
"Of course. Do you need me to get Chris to bring you anything? Maybe Leon? I'm sure he'll be just gutted you won't be gracing us with your presence," Jill teased. Even in what's surely an onset of a fever-induced haze, you rolled your eyes.
They'd only been introduced to the rookie a few months ago, yet Jill, Chris, and now Marvin—Leon's lieutenant and lovingly a thorn in your side— were all convinced that he had a crush on you. You had no time to even think, let alone indulge that type of thing. A crush? On you?
Sure, you'd been fairly nice when they first met and even gave him a tour on Irons' orders, but beyond that, did you really do enough to warrant that?
He was…attractive, you'd give him that much. He had Rita and the other ladies practically swooning from just a photo before he'd even actually arrived.
Now that he was here, you'd see him in passing. Between case work, you'd go down a floor to the only half-decent coffee maker in this place. Leon would just so happen to be there. You'd offer a friendly smile or brief conversation, a stumble or stammer of his words that had you convinced he was just a tad awkward when it came to women in general.
But, he did things for you that she hadn't seen him do for anyone else. Little things. Some days, a cup of coffee would already be ready and waiting for you next to the machine at your usual time. Three creams, two sugars.
Other times, he'd grab a file or two for her that you'd pass along to Captain Wesker. Left on her desk. The only reason you knew it was him was because Chris or Jill gave their firsthand account of seeing the rookie in an office he didn't usually frequent before he scurried out to be unnoticed by you.
Okay, so maybe there was some evidence to back up what they were saying. But it could easily be that he was just being nice, right?
Acknowledging it made it too real. You weren't sure if you wanted to do that. Only because you were starting to think you had one on him, too.
A stupidly stupid crush.
Ugh. What were you? Twelve?
If you were to remember the last time you had a…crush, it was then.
"You're lucky I'm patient zero, so I won't dignify that last part with what you so clearly want me to say," You responded, twirling the phone cord around your fingers. "But yes, some medicine would be nice. Would be an awful thing to lose a teammate so young to such a curable disease."
Standing was really starting to become a chore. Your couch was calling your name.
Jill snickered. "Oh, so, so awful. Besides, who's going to do all this paperwork? Enrico? Forest? Barry?"
"Fuck, no. Forest will hold that over for the rest of my career. Now, if you'll excuse me, let me suffer in peace." You said a brief goodbye before moving to the living room couch. Draping yourself across the cushions, she looked at the clock above her TV.
It was only 9:15 am.
Before the call ended, Jill mentioned she'd have Chris there by noon. Yeah, you could hold out till then. Takeout and warm cups of tea would tide you over. Jesus, you needed to eat better. Maybe you should've asked Jill to have Chris get you some food, too. Preferably something that would actually help you feel better.
You flicked on the television to offer some background noise to the quiet apartment. Some old TV show rerun played, canned laughter, and a black-and-white filter.
Enough to lull you into sleep. Just resting your eyes until noon.
Three resounding bangs on the door had you jolting up from your sleep. Still feeling shitty. Wasn't sleep meant to rejuvenate you?
11:55 am. Had you been out that long? Chris was a few minutes early.
Three more bangs thudded off the front door. "Coming!" You tried to yell, but your voice was a bit more hoarse. You straightened out her clothes to attempt to look presentable before pulling open the door.
"You know, Chris—" You stopped yourself. This is definitely not Chris. Unless, of course, he'd changed into Leon's twin overnight. A familiar set of blue eyes and blonde hair stood out to you first. Among the bags of things hanging on both of his arms. A lot of things, actually.
"Leon?" Confusion laced your tone; you rubbed her eyes for good measure, rubbing away the sleep and possibly trying to wake yourself up from whatever fever dream you were having.
Something fluttered in your stomach, your heart definitely picked up pace, and that wasn't because of the coughing fit itching to leave you.
"Yeah. Uh, hi, mind if I come in?" He asked politely, lifting the bags slightly to emphasize how much he'd like to put them down. You stepped aside without a second thought to allow him in.
Shit. Maybe you should've cleaned up a bit. You were going to kill Jill for this.
"Sorry about the mess," You spoke, shame at the disarray left a slight prickle up your spine. He put the bags down on the kitchen table. Only then did you notice he wasn't wearing his uniform. Somehow, he looked even better out of it.
Leon waved it off, "No need. I've seen worse. Besides, you're sick."
You rummaged through the bags as Leon stood off to the side. A few different medicines, cough drops, and more tea bags. Food items like ramen noodles, saltine crackers, and other little snacks. The perfect care package.
"Thank you for this, I… really appreciate it," You smiled gently as you looked toward Leon. "I hope I didn't take you away from anything too important?"
He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "No. I, uh…I offered. I overheard Jill talking to Chris about it."
God, now that really made your stomach flip. Though that could also be nausea. Leon's expression shifted as he really focused on you, really looked at you. He placed his hands gently on your shoulders, almost as if to steady you.
"You should probably sit down now," Leon pulled you from the kitchen toward the couch. Not bossy. Just concern. Part of you wanted to resist, but another coughing fit robbed you of the words. Damn sick body, betraying you like this. Leon must think you were pathetic, letting a little sickness take you down.
Leon's palm reached up to your forehead, a slight frown gracing his otherwise handsome features. "Have you eaten anything today?"
"If you count day-old takeout…" You attempted to joke, but maybe the delirium was kicking in as you trailed off. Your eyes followed Leon as he walked back into the kitchen; the rustling of bags indicated to you that he was unpacking them. There was a shuffling sound as he rifled through your cabinets. A less sick you would've been annoyed, but right now you couldn't find it in you to care.
"Where are your cups?" He asked, his head sticking out from the entryway of the kitchen.
"Cabinet next to the sink."
You watched him move around your space; it was so…natural. Like he'd always been here. This was intimate. Different from being at the station. Your place, no real buffer of coworkers. You couldn't even remember the last time anyone had taken the time to take care of you. To worry about you.
That stupidly stupid crush was teetering on the edge of being dangerously real.
Not even a few minutes later, Leon brought you medicine and a warm cup of tea. Peppermint. Your favorite. Funny, you didn't have this one on hand. Just as you're about to take a sip, you pull the cup away from your lips.
A skeptical look came over your face. "You sure Jill didn't put you up to this? How'd you know my favorite tea?"
He hesitated. A slight tinge of red on his face. "She might've mentioned it." He cleared his throat, "But I was already heading out."
"Right," you hummed, letting the warmth of the tea soothe your throat. The TV murmured in the background, tea steaming on your face, medicine working in your bloodstream. Midday light streamed in through the windows. Leon sat next to you on the couch, a watchful eye in the comfortable silence. You half-expected him to leave after he'd made sure you got what you needed, but he hadn't.
"I'd hate for you to waste a day with me, Kennedy…" You spoke softly, trying to stay awake as the effects of the tea and medicine started to work their magic. "It's a nice day outside."
As if on cue, a chorus of birds chirped from the nesting outside the window—you wouldn't dare get rid of it— and a brief brightening of the room from the sun streamed in, casting everything in a soft yellow shade.
"I've got nowhere to be," Leon stated plainly, though you felt his eyes on you rather than what you were looking at.
Now it's your turn to blush. And in your tired, feverish, and maybe half-delirious state, you said something startlingly honest.
"You're very sweet, you know that?"
You don't see how flustered that makes him, your head tilting toward him and your body leaning back. Leon froze.
You were right. He should leave.
But he doesn't.
You had drifted off after making him as flustered as could be. He wanted to run from this, the feelings he had for you, but he couldn't do that either.
Your hand unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve, snuggling against him.
At the gesture, he settled in, adjusting so you were more comfortable. For a half second, his brain stupidly debated moving you off. But he didn't.
Once he's sure that you're not going anywhere, the quiet of your apartment and warmth against him have him relaxing.
A thing that Leon has never done easily.
He told himself he’ll leave in five minutes. That he just wanted to make sure you're comfortable, this can't mean anything, right?
His relaxed state lulled him into sleep; he needed to after his early morning anyway.
Chris promised he'd go check on you for Jill's sake, despite Leon offering to go instead.
He knocked on the door and waited a few moments. No response. He shook his head, trying one more time. Still nothing.
He wiggled the handle, finding it open. He'd definitely have to give you a lecture about locking your doors, even with as safe as Raccoon was, you never knew what could happen.
He pushes the door open quietly. Peeking his head in. There's a quiet hum of the television, voices murmuring that sound like Lucille and Desi.
He ventured further in, almost tiptoeing. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
You and Leon. You sprawled partially across his chest, and Leon had an almost protective arm around your waist. His cheek tipped against your hair, both of their breaths evening out.
Asleep. What a cozy pair they made.
Chris smirked, shaking his head as he backed out of her apartment. He gently shut the door and left.
Jill and Marvin were going to love this.