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He wakes with a start, the remnants of a vaguely unpleasant dream that he can’t recall slowly fading away as his mind reorients itself.
The room is dark and silent. Next to him, a familiar warmth curls up against his own body, a soothing, almost healing presence.
Leon breathes a sigh of relief. He is home, with the woman he loves by his side, and the cruel daylight is hours away yet. Right now, under the cover of the endless night, they are safe.
Ada shifts lightly in her sleep, and for a moment, he holds his breath as she nestles her head against the crook of his neck, wondering how it is possible that two people could fit so perfectly together, like their bodies were made to be joined as one, like two halves of a whole.
How unfair it is, that they should still be parted, despite everything they’ve been through, despite all the battles they have fought. That even after all these years, all they have are brief, stolen moments, concealed in the stillness of the night.
Inhaling deeply, he takes in the scent of his own shampoo in her hair. She makes a habit out of borrowing his, despite his offer to keep a bottle of her favorite brand handy for when she visits. Not that Leon minds. He quite likes the idea of his own scent lingering on her, long after she’s left him. A little something to remind her of him, however fleeting it might be.
He gazes at her, committing every detail to memory, already bracing himself for a goodbye that has yet to come. And then, the whispered words slip from his lips before he can stop himself, a quiet, wistful fantasy, spoken to no one but the unfeeling darkness.
“I wish tomorrow would never come.”
It’s silly, he knows, to indulge so often. It’s irrational, to ask for something that may never be possible, but being with her already feels like reaching for the unattainable. Sometimes it amazes him still, that she’s here, real and tangible, lying peacefully next to him, their bodies pressed so tightly together that he can’t imagine ever being separated from her again.
It’s strange, to think she’d ever allow anyone so close to her. Ada had always been a mess of sharp edges and barbed wire, the inner workings of her heart both elusive and impenetrable. But the Ada lying with her limbs tangled with his is soft and warm and solid under his touch, and not for the first time, Leon wonders how many have been privy to this side of her, buried underneath the façade of a pragmatic, efficient spy, a ruthless killer.
He wonders if he might be the first, and perhaps, only one.
“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare at a lady?” her voice cuts through the silence, playful and reprimanding at once. Her eyes remain closed, but there is a small, content smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“Couldn’t help myself,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers through her soft, silky hair. “It’s one hell of a view.”
Ada opens her eyes then, and even in the darkness of his bedroom, Leon can see a flicker of concern in them. “Something on your mind?”
He hates it sometimes, how discerning she can get when she wants to be. He loves her all the more for it.
Absently, he trails a hand down the length of her exposed back, resting in the curve of her hips. “Just how lucky I am, to be here with you.”
She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Good attempt, but flattery won’t get you out of this one,” Gently, she brushes his hair out of his face, and instantly, Leon feels oddly exposed under her knowing gaze.
It’s disconcerting, but not entirely unwelcome, he thinks.
Her hand finds his cheek then, anchoring him with the warmth of her presence. “Leon, hey,” she says, and Leon finds himself transfixed by her voice. “Do you trust me?”
It’s a familiar question, one he’d asked himself countless times. Once, when they were younger, he might’ve found it difficult to answer in the affirmative, certain as he was in his own feelings for her. But now, the mere idea that he could’ve ever believed otherwise is almost laughable.
“Of course,” he says, like it’s the only truth he has ever known. “Of course I trust you.”
Slowly, her hand moves down to rest on his chest, right over his pounding heart. “Then let me in. Let me see all of you.”
As she says it, there’s a tenderness in her voice and an ardent sincerity in her eyes that he rarely gets to see. It stirs something within him, and wordlessly, Leon wraps his hands around hers, pressing a kiss against her knuckles, hoping with all his being that his lips can communicate what words fail to express.
They stay like that for a moment, breathing each other in, and he wishes he could preserve the moment forever, a single, perfect snapshot, that will sustain him through whatever hardships life might throw at him next.
“Do you ever wish that our lives were different?” he confesses the one thing he has not dared to speak into existence all these years. “I do.”
To his relief, Ada doesn’t look surprised or taken aback. Instead, she merely wraps her arm around his middle, her voice light and earnest. “Different how?”
Leon shrugs. He has never given that much thought to it, afraid of the images his mind might conjure. Images of a life that will forever elude them. “I don’t know. Better, perhaps. A life where we don’t have to count down the minutes until you have to leave again.”
Something akin to realization dawns on Ada’s gentle features. “Is that what you’ve been losing sleep over?”
It should feel like a weight being lifted off his shoulders, to finally put into words what he’s been so afraid to admit all this time, but he feels rather uneasy, embarrassed, even.
“Something like that,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice from trembling.
Ada smiles, and Leon thinks he sees a twinge of sadness in the curve of her lips. Finally, she sighs. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it.”
That piques his curiosity. “You’ve never wished you’d done things differently?”
She shoots him a look. “Regret has never been my thing.”
Leon hums noncommittally. Someone like Ada, forced to do unimaginable things to survive, would not want to dwell too much on the past. He doesn’t blame her. He would probably do the same, in her position.
Ada shifts to stare at the ceiling, and for a moment, he thinks that means the conversation must be over, but just when the silence is beginning to sink in, she speaks again. “There are a great many things I wish I’d done differently. But I don’t regret any of them. After all, my choices led me to you.”
She says it the way someone would confess a long-held secret, carefully hidden away from the rest of the world. Leon has known Ada for half his life and been in love with her for just as long, but it’s only in moments like this, in a place where only the two of them exist, that he thinks he can see a glimpse of the real her, stripped bare of all pretense and bravado.
She turns to him again, her slender fingers stroking down the length of his jawline, her lips brushing a featherlight kiss against the corner of his mouth. “The past is already set in stone. The future is yet to come. So fuck it. None of that matters. All that matters is right here. Right now. So stay here with me.”
His lips find hers again, passionate and breathless. Her arms are around his neck, her legs around his waist, and for one miraculous second, time stops, and Leon thinks he might’ve finally found it. That perfect snapshot, where nothing matters but him and her, and their steady, beating hearts.
In a few hours, tomorrow will come, and with it, another parting. But tonight, they have each other, and that alone is enough.
“Will you come back to me?” he asks.
“Well,” she makes a show of looking contemplative, with that same mischievous glint in her eyes that he has come to love so well. “That depends entirely on you.”
He kisses her again, slowly, tenderly. He wants to savor every second of it, to memorize the curve of her mouth against his until it’s the only thing he remembers when he closes his eyes.
When they finally break apart, Ada is smiling, her contented eyes fluttering open. “I always knew there was something about you, Kennedy.”
Tomorrow, she’ll be gone again. But tonight, she’s in his arms, real and breathing, and nothing else matters.
Tomorrow can wait. When it comes, they’ll be ready for it, but not now. Right now, the night is boundless, and within it, they have found their safe haven.
“Aren’t you glad you found me?” her voice is quiet and disarming at once, her fingers threading through his hair in a soothing pattern.
“You found me,” Leon reminds her. Somewhere at the back of his mind, images from a lifetime ago play like an old film. “Remember?”
She chuckles softly. “Like it was yesterday.”
She found him then, in the unlikeliest of places, in the most unimaginable situation. And then she found him again, and again, and again. Always when he needed her the most, even if he didn’t know it then. Whatever happens in the future, he trusts that she will. She always does. For them, there will always be a next time, for as long as they both shall live, as long as the world continues.
Sleep comes easily to him afterward, nestled between the warmth of Ada’s body and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
And this time, there will be no more bad dreams.
fin