( he's slow to answer. hell, his jaw knits and his teeth grind and he considers not answering at all. because even all these years later, he can't quite turn off the part of him that Ada managed to twist around her fingers. love is a strong word, isn't it, because how pathetic would it be to love a woman he knew for a few hours at most. it was the idea of her, the situation, he was so stupid and desperate and the world was falling apart around them and that's what made it feel the way it did. that's why. it wasn't real, in hindsight.
even if it was real, it was only real for him. so how can it be real now, when he knows it was all a rouse to get him to do what she wanted. )
No, ( he says, even though the fact he's here, dripping into musty motel carpet with shambling monstrosities just outside the barricaded door, is sort of giving him away. love or not, he's so obsessed with the idea of Ada Wong he will walk right into a nightmare on a chance. that's not exactly a good sign as to the ambivalence of his feelings. still, even if he's not ambivalent about Ada, he sure as shit hasn't forgiven her, either. if he loves her, he hates her too. it doesn't really matter to him what the name on the feeling is — if she's here, he will find her. and he's too fixed on the objective to really contemplate the aftermath just yet.
so Maria is right. he won't leave. does it make him good? stubborn and stupid feels more apt. whatever she'd like to call it, the result is the same. he hasn't looked nearly enough to give up on what brought him here. if it isn't Ada, it's somebody who knows more than he'd like them to, which is plenty of reason to keep looking. no, he's not ready to leave, even if it'd be the smarter, practical thing. )
I don't know. ( what it'll take, that is. an answer? closure? why the hell would that be in Maine. still, he needs more than nothing, and that letter was the only lead he's had in years. Leon is nothing if not determined. he will find it or he will die trying. simply giving up does not occur to him as an option. and after that... )
Deal. ( Leon turns to face Maria, losing the slight advantage of distance to hide his expression. since he's considering the Ada conversation closed with their decision to team up for a scheduled departure, he has less to hide. not that it hasn't rattled him — if anything, it is like he has something to prove. that Ada hasn't been haunting him since Raccoon City, that he isn't in love with the idea of a woman he knows isn't real. which is especially stupid, all things considered. ) Getting naked helped the wet problem. Not so much the cold problem.
( sorry, Maria. Leon flirts back but he turns it off and on with little to no warning. )
( obsession is a dangerous thing, but beautiful, in its own right. it takes strong men, beautiful men, and tears them down to their insincerity; leon says he doesn't know, but he does know, doesn't he? leon says that it's a deal, but she knows that if they agreed to leave together, that if they don't find this ada, that they'll stand on the precipice of the town line and leon will likely say but like there's some stone they didn't overturn at least three times, and they'll circle around again. an endless cycle of endless torture, all to come up with no answers: that's what she's expecting, despite the guidance that james is, supposedly, actually here. and maybe when they turn to leave, she won't be able to leave at all; that's a real possibility.
but it's a deal, anyway, which she answers with a smile, instead of agreement--a shallow lie, maybe, but it means that it could truthfully go either way.
and what does leon see, looking back at her, saying things like that? she writes him off and he comes back again with an addendum; she can't seem to find the right way to color in the lines, but then she's never been good at that to begin with. it's obvious, given the way that she's still seated next to him, given the way that she hasn't offered to find some other room in this hellhole to sleep in, or stay in, or get cleaned up in. the weather likely isn't going to let up for hours; there's no point in getting drenched in blood and rainwater when they can wait for the foggy, early hours of a grey morning.
so she considers it, as she tilts her head the other way, looking at the rest of the bed--and then tilts again, to look at him, smiling. )
Think the sheets are clean? I've heard getting beneath them really gets the blood pumping.
( as if sleeping is a foreign concept. as if she can't really recall it happening at all. as if some muddied memory of a bed and pain and torture are the only things she can dredge up. )
I might be willing to keep a guy warm, but only if he keeps me entertained.
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even if it was real, it was only real for him. so how can it be real now, when he knows it was all a rouse to get him to do what she wanted. )
No, ( he says, even though the fact he's here, dripping into musty motel carpet with shambling monstrosities just outside the barricaded door, is sort of giving him away. love or not, he's so obsessed with the idea of Ada Wong he will walk right into a nightmare on a chance. that's not exactly a good sign as to the ambivalence of his feelings. still, even if he's not ambivalent about Ada, he sure as shit hasn't forgiven her, either. if he loves her, he hates her too. it doesn't really matter to him what the name on the feeling is — if she's here, he will find her. and he's too fixed on the objective to really contemplate the aftermath just yet.
so Maria is right. he won't leave. does it make him good? stubborn and stupid feels more apt. whatever she'd like to call it, the result is the same. he hasn't looked nearly enough to give up on what brought him here. if it isn't Ada, it's somebody who knows more than he'd like them to, which is plenty of reason to keep looking. no, he's not ready to leave, even if it'd be the smarter, practical thing. )
I don't know. ( what it'll take, that is. an answer? closure? why the hell would that be in Maine. still, he needs more than nothing, and that letter was the only lead he's had in years. Leon is nothing if not determined. he will find it or he will die trying. simply giving up does not occur to him as an option. and after that... )
Deal. ( Leon turns to face Maria, losing the slight advantage of distance to hide his expression. since he's considering the Ada conversation closed with their decision to team up for a scheduled departure, he has less to hide. not that it hasn't rattled him — if anything, it is like he has something to prove. that Ada hasn't been haunting him since Raccoon City, that he isn't in love with the idea of a woman he knows isn't real. which is especially stupid, all things considered. ) Getting naked helped the wet problem. Not so much the cold problem.
( sorry, Maria. Leon flirts back but he turns it off and on with little to no warning. )
no subject
but it's a deal, anyway, which she answers with a smile, instead of agreement--a shallow lie, maybe, but it means that it could truthfully go either way.
and what does leon see, looking back at her, saying things like that? she writes him off and he comes back again with an addendum; she can't seem to find the right way to color in the lines, but then she's never been good at that to begin with. it's obvious, given the way that she's still seated next to him, given the way that she hasn't offered to find some other room in this hellhole to sleep in, or stay in, or get cleaned up in. the weather likely isn't going to let up for hours; there's no point in getting drenched in blood and rainwater when they can wait for the foggy, early hours of a grey morning.
so she considers it, as she tilts her head the other way, looking at the rest of the bed--and then tilts again, to look at him, smiling. )
Think the sheets are clean? I've heard getting beneath them really gets the blood pumping.
( as if sleeping is a foreign concept. as if she can't really recall it happening at all. as if some muddied memory of a bed and pain and torture are the only things she can dredge up. )
I might be willing to keep a guy warm, but only if he keeps me entertained.