...For now
That was what Leon told himself.
Not as comfort...just habit.
Like if he kept saying it, the moment wouldn't move forward without permission.
Lola was still in bed, sitting slightly upright, the handheld console resting in her hands.
The screen lit her face softly.
She was still playing.
Still there.
"…This quest is weird," she murmured.
"What's weird?" Leon asked, sitting beside her like it was any normal afternoon.
"The dialogue doesn't match what's happening."
"That's intentional," he said automatically.
She squinted. "It feels wrong."
"It's called foreshadowing."
"That's just a fancy word for 'confusing.'"
He snorted. "No, it's called writing."
She hummed like she didn't believe him, but kept playing anyway.
A few seconds passed.
Then her fingers slowed.
Not stopping, just… losing rhythm.
Leon noticed, but didn't react immediately.
She had off moments sometimes. Fatigue days. Hospital days.
Nothing unusual.
...but then her shoulders tensed.
Barely noticeable.
Like her body reacted before she did.
Her breathing hitched once.
Sharp.
Too quick.
Then steadied again, like she forced it to.
Her thumb slipped slightly on the controls.
"...Tch," she muttered under her breath.
Annoyed.
Not scared.
Her free hand lifted.
pressed lightly against her chest...
then dropped just as fast.
Like it didn't happen.
Leon's eyes flicked up.
"…Hey," he said casually. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she answered too fast.
She shifted slightly against the pillow.
Trying to get comfortable.
Failing.
Her fingers resumed movement.
But slower now.
Less precise.
She missed an input.
Corrected it.
Missed again.
"...Stupid controls," she muttered.
Leon frowned slightly.
"Those are the same controls you've been using."
"I know."
Her tone sharpened.
Then softened immediately after.
"...I just misclicked."
She adjusted her posture again.
Another small inhale
this one tighter.
Quieter.
"…Lola?"
She didn't respond right away.
Her grip tightened slightly on the console.
Then...
"…Leon," she said.
Different tone.
He stood up immediately.
"What is it?"
Her brows pulled together, like she was trying to understand something her body wasn't explaining properly.
"I feel..."
She stopped mid-sentence.
A sharp inhale followed.
Not normal.
Not controlled.
Her hand went to her chest again...
this time not letting go.
Leon's expression changed instantly.
"Hey...what is it? Where?"
"…Chest," she managed. "It's tight."
That was all it took.
"Doctor!" Leon shouted, already moving toward the door. "Nurse...someone, now!"
His voice cut through the hallway.
Inside the room, everything shifted at once.
Lola tried to sit straighter.
But her body didn't cooperate cleanly.
"I'm okay," she said quickly.
"No, you're not," Leon snapped, coming back to her side immediately.
Her breathing was uneven now.
Short.
Shallow.
Like her lungs weren't fully listening.
A nurse rushed in.
"What happened?"
"Chest pain," Leon said fast. "Breathing changed just now."
More footsteps followed immediately.
The room filled.
Machines were checked. Monitors attached. Voices overlapped.
But Leon stayed right beside her bed.
Didn't move.
Didn't look away.
Just her.
Only her.
Lola's fingers were still holding the console.
Like she had forgotten to let go.
"…I didn't finish it," she said suddenly.
Leon blinked. "What?"
"The game," she repeated, voice weaker now. "There's still quests."
"Lola...don't talk about that right now."
"But I didn't see the ending," she insisted.
Her voice cracked slightly.
"I didn't reach it."
The monitor beeped faster.
A nurse adjusted oxygen.
Leon stepped closer again, lowering his voice.
"You will," he said quickly. "Later. When you're better."
She shook her head faintly.
"No," she said.
Just that.
Not dramatic.
Not angry.
Just certain in a way that scared him more than panic.
Leon tightened his hands slightly at his sides.
"Hey," he said softer now. "Look at me."
She did.
Barely.
Her eyes weren't fully unfocused yet—
but they were getting harder to hold steady.
"…I made it," Leon said, voice rougher now. "So you could play it. That's the whole point."
A pause.
Her lips trembled slightly.
"…Really?"
"Yes," he said immediately. "So don't act like you failed something."
That made her pause.
For a second, something almost like relief passed through her face.
But it didn't last.
Her breathing hitched again.
"I'm tired," she whispered.
"I know," Leon said quickly.
"I don't want to stop playing."
"You're not stopping."
Her fingers twitched.
The console tilted slightly in her lap.
Leon gently took it from her and placed it on the bed beside her.
She didn't resist.
Her hand followed his for a second...
then fell back.
"…Leon," she said again.
"I'm here."
Her voice was smaller now.
"Will it be okay?"
The question hit differently.
Not about the game anymore.
Not really.
Leon hesitated for the first time.
Then forced it out.
"Yes," he said.
A lie.
But steady.
"That's enough," he added quietly.
Lola stared at him for a moment.
Like she was memorizing something she couldn't save.
Then she gave a faint nod.
"…Okay," she whispered.
The monitor beeped louder.
The doctor's voice sharpened.
"Prepare emergency intervention."
Movement increased in the room.
Leon stepped closer instinctively.
"Lola," he said again.
She turned her head slightly.
Still trying to stay with him.
Still trying.
"…Don't be mad," she murmured.
His eyes widened slightly. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"
"I didn't finish it properly."
His chest tightened.
"What are you talking about?" he said quickly. "You're talking like you're leaving something behind."
Her fingers loosened slightly in the blanket.
Not all at once.
Little by little.
"I didn't get to see it all," she whispered.
Her voice was shaking now.
"But I liked it."
That stopped him.
For a second.
"…Yeah," he said quietly.
"You did good," she added.
Almost like she was the one comforting him now.
The machines grew louder.
The doctor stepped in closer.
"Start resuscitation."
Leon didn't move away.
He grabbed her hand again immediately.
"Hey," he said, voice low but firm now. "Stay with me, okay?"
Her fingers barely tightened in response.
Barely.
"…Okay," she whispered.
But it was already slipping.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just… like her body was forgetting how to stay.
Leon held on tighter.
"Don't go quiet," he said.
Her eyes flickered.
Still on him.
Still trying.
"…I'm still here," she said.
And for a moment...
he believed it.
Then her hand loosened completely.
Not like a collapse.
Like a decision her body made without asking her.
The room erupted into action.
But Leon didn't move yet.
He just stood there.
Still holding on.
Waiting for a squeeze back that never came.