For straight one and a half year, Leon had his eyes on you, only for you. He wanted you to be his, so he had his waya to observe you with the things you love, what you eat, what you hate, your behaviour, mannerisms, everything.

He hates it when other guys get close to you, he feels that anger fuel in his body. One time, he saw that popular guy named Mark, he overheard a conversation between you and him that he wanted to ask you out. The next day, he was beaten up and completely didn't get in your way. And who waa behind that? Leon Kennedy. The basement light flickered, casting uneven shadows across the concrete walls.

Mark’s breathing came out ragged, uneven—panic clinging to every shallow inhale.

Leon stood in front of him, still… composed.

Too composed.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Just watched.

Letting the silence press in until it became unbearable.

“You touched her.”

His voice was low, controlled—worse than anger.

Mark shook his head weakly, words failing him as he tried to speak, to explain—

Leon stepped forward.

“No.”

Sharp. Final.

He crouched slowly, bringing himself eye level, his gaze locking onto Mark’s like a vice.

“I saw it.”

A pause.

“The way you leaned in.” “The way your hand stayed a little too long.”

Each word was measured. Precise.

Deliberate.

Leon exhaled softly, almost like he was holding something back.

“You looked at her like you had a chance.”

A faint tilt of his head.

“Like she was yours to take.”

Something in his expression shifted—subtle, but wrong.

“She smiled, didn’t she?”

A quiet, humorless breath left him.

“And you misunderstood it.”

His hand came up, gripping Mark’s jaw just enough to force him to look up—steady, unhurried, controlled.

“She’s kind.” “She’s gentle.” “She doesn’t push people away.”

His grip tightened—just slightly.

“That doesn’t give you the right to touch her.”

Silence fell again.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Leon released him, rising to his full height, gaze lingering like a weight pressing down.

“You don’t get to stand near her.” “You don’t get to say her name.” “You don’t get to think you’re allowed in her space.”

He took a slow step closer.

Not rushed. Not loud.

Certain.

“You’re going to forget she exists.”

Mark’s head shook weakly, fear written all over him—but Leon only stared, unmoved.

“No looking.” “No talking.” “No getting in her way.”

Another step.

Closer.

“Because the next time I see you near her…”

A pause.

Long enough for it to sink in.

Leon leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter—colder.

“I won’t be this patient.”

He straightened, running a hand through his hair as if this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Then his gaze dropped back to Mark—dark, steady, final.

“Stay away from what’s mine.”