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It isn’t the hangover he can feel pounding behind his eyes that wakes him. He’s used to that.
It isn’t really even the alarm going off--playing Queen--that wakes him.
It’s the weight and heat radiating from the body next to him that brings him to consciousness. He opens his groggy eyes just in time to see his bed partner slap her alarm clock into the floor. It takes only a second for his mind to process who he is seeing.
Claire Redfield. The tension seems to start in his fingers before spreading to the rest of him. ‘What in the fuck happened last night?’ He wonders desperately as his mind races through panicked thought after panicked thought that all end in the absolute destruction of their friendship--the one friendship that had been a constant in his life since Raccoon City. He can’t lose that. He can’t lose her.
He remembered calling her from the airport, asking if he could crash on her couch. The plane had needed to be rerouted and he wasn’t looking forward to two hour drive back to his apartment building. He remembered her agreeing and the many fucking bottles of vodka he drank on the way in to drown out the horrors that had filled his assignment.
He remembers her setting up the couch for him so that he could just fall into it once he got in. He remembers her forcing him to eat. He doesn’t remember how he ended up in her bed.
Claire falls forwards onto her elbows and turns her head to face him, cupping her cheek in her hand. “Sorry,” she apologizes, “I always forget to turn it off after my work week.”
“What did I do?” The words come out hurriedly as he tries to move. Her hand falls onto his stomach to keep him from escaping her. Just her fingertips on his stomach freezes him.
“I’m a little upset that you don’t remember, Leon,” she teases, but he is too far gone in his anxiety to realize the mischievous tone. His stomach drops; he swallows.
“No,” he breathes. “Not you, Claire.” Her expression changes.
“Ouch...” She says, sounding truly wounded. Leon curses as she pulls away from him. “I was just teasing, but damn Leon...” He opens his mouth to explain, to apologize, but she speaks on: “you just climbed into my bed last night because the living room was, quote, ‘a fucking icebox’ and proceeded to stick your cold ass feet between my legs and use me as a cuddle pillow.” He can only half focus on her words because she is pulling away from him. He catches her hand before she can get too far from his side and shakes his head.
“You’re misunderstanding me.”
“No, it’s fine. It was kind of my fault for teasing you.” She rambled on. “I should have known better. I know it’s not the first time you’ve woken up in a stranger’s bed; I shouldn’t have teased you.”
“You shouldn’t have, but let me explain, please.” Claire closed her mouth and nodded. Leon sighed. “You are probably my deepest bond in this world,” he informed her. “And I’m too fucked up right now to be what you need.” She stared at him for a moment. “It’s true,” he told her before she could argue. “I drink like I’m trying to drain liquor stores dry to escape demons I’ve already laid to rest.”
“And I’m going to run myself into an early grave,” Claire retorted. “That doesn’t mean it’s going to be the end of us if we try to be more than this.” Leon’s eyes widened. Claire smiled. “I’m not saying that it has be tonight, or even a year from now, but whenever you want to try--and if I’m available--then yeah I wouldn’t mind it if you slipped into my bed with a different purpose than just keeping warm and it wouldn’t ruin anything because we would both want it.” Leon felt like he couldn’t breathe; her words had stolen all of his air.
He knew that they had danced around something more for years; hell, he couldn’t escape it. Every partner he had ever had that met Claire in some capacity had commented on it. But even without them, he would have known. Something had sparked between them in Raccoon City, and in the months after it--it had developed into a warm flame.
His feelings for Claire had always been different than those for anyone else. She was what he thought of when people asked him about home--because home was a place of comfort, safety, and warmth. Just friends didn’t do that. So, yeah, he was terrified of losing that.
He could only stare at her as she climbed out of bed--going on about her day as if she hadn’t just imploded his. The promise in her words made his heart feel light, not healed, but...now, he figured, he had something worth healing for.