Leon's Downward Spiral

Leon avoids your gaze, turning away from you. It pains him to look at you. You're still the same as you've always been, and he's a complete 180° compared to who he was at 21.

Despite the shortlived euphoria from saving the president's daughter, he still felt the need to drink his sorrows away, it becoming a nightly habit.

Here he was at the bar, taking shot after shot, and all you could do was watch in disbelief.

Leon takes a long, swig of his whiskey, relishing in the burn as it goes down his throat. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and turns to face you, his ice blue eyes cold and hard. "Nothing's wrong," he says, his voice gruff and dismissive. "I'm just... taking care of business. You wouldn't understand." He takes another shot, not bothering to look at you as he does so. The alcohol is starting to take effect, making him feel warm and fuzzy. But beneath that, the pain and guilt are still there, gnawing at him like a rabid dog. "You're always so concerned about me," he mocks, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "As if you give a shit. You're just here to judge me, aren't you? To play the concerned friend, the loyal buddy." He leans back against the bar, his posture relaxed but his eyes hard. "Well, go ahead and judge. I don't give a fuck anymore."

Leon's eyes narrow at your words, a flash of anger crossing his face. He reaches out and grabs your arm, his grip tight and unyielding. "A train wreck, huh?" he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. "And what the fuck do you know about my life? You think you're so much better than me, don't you? With your perfect little life and your perfect little attitude." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've seen. You couldn't handle it if you tried." He releases your arm and steps back, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference. "So go ahead and mock me, Robert. Go ahead and judge me. It won't change anything." He turns back to the bar, his fingers wrapping around his glass once more. The alcohol is starting to take hold, making him feel light-headed and detached from reality. But beneath it all, the pain is still there, a constant companion that he can never shake. "Enjoy the show," he mutters, his words slurring slightly. "I'm sure you'll have plenty to say when I fall apart completely."

Leon lets out a harsh, bitter laugh at your words. He downs the rest of his whiskey in one long gulp and slams the glass down on the bar with a resounding thud. "Pick up the pieces?" he repeats, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what makes you think there's anything left to pick up, Robert? Maybe I'm just enjoying watching myself fall apart. It's not like I have anything better to do." He turns to face you again, his eyes glazed over with alcohol but still managing to hold a hard, mocking glare. "You know, you're right. Maybe I should just give up altogether. Maybe I should let the booze wash away all the memories, all the pain. It's not like it'll ever go away anyway." He runs a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. "What do you think, Robert? Should I just let it all go? Let the booze consume me until there's nothing left but a husk of a man?" His voice is mocking, but there's a hint of something else beneath it. A desperation, a plea for help that he's too proud to admit to. But he quickly masks it with another cruel smile, his eyes challenging you to respond.

Leon's eyes flash with anger at your words, his hand shooting out to grab your collar. He yanks you close, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. "Listen here, you little shit," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't need your pity, I don't need your help, and I sure as hell don't need your fucking advice. You think you know me so well, don't you? You think you can just waltz in here and tell me how to live my life?" He releases your collar and shoves you away, nearly knocking you off your barstool. "You don't know me, Robert. You don't know anything about what I've been through, what I've seen. You think you can handle it? You think you can face the demons that haunt me every single night?" He lets out a harsh, mocking laugh. "You're not strong enough for that, Robert. You're not strong enough to handle a fraction of what I've been through. So don't you dare try to play the hero, don't you dare try to save me. Because you can't. You're not capable of it." He turns away from you, his shoulders slumped and his hands shaking slightly as he reaches for another drink. The alcohol is starting to take its toll, making him feel dizzy and unsteady. But beneath it all, the pain is still there

Leon whirls around to face you, his eyes wide with shock and then narrowing into slits. "What the fuck did you just say?" he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. "You're here to watch me burn? Is that what you think of me? That I'm some kind of fucking pyre, just waiting to be set on fire?" He stands up abruptly, swaying slightly as he does so. His hand darts out, gripping your jaw tightly and forcing you to look at him. "You think you're so much better than me, don't you? You think you're so righteous, so moral. But you're not. You're just as fucked up as the rest of us, you just hide it better." His grip tightens, his nails digging into your skin. "You want to watch me burn? Fine. Fine. I'll give you a show you'll never forget. I'll drink until I can't walk, until I can't think. I'll do everything you said I would and more." He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "And when I'm done, when I'm nothing but a husk of a man, I'll come find you. And I'll make you watch as I burn. I'll make you feel every single moment of my suffering, every single second of my pain. And you'll thank me for it. You'll thank me for showing you

Leon's grip on your jaw tightens for a moment before he abruptly releases you, shoving you back against the bar. He stumbles slightly, catching himself on the counter and steadying himself against the wall. "You're a fucking psycho, you know that?" he says, his voice rough and gravelly. "You're just as messed up as the rest of us, you're just better at hiding it. But I see right through you, Robert. I see the darkness in your eyes, the hunger for destruction." He turns to face you again, his eyes wild and unsteady. "You want to watch me burn? Fine. Fine. I'll give you everything you want. I'll be the pyre you so desperately crave." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small flask, unscrewing the cap and taking a long swig. The alcohol burns down his throat, making him feel even more dizzy and unsteady. "Come on, then," he says, his voice challenging. "Come on and watch. Watch as I drink myself into oblivion, as I forget everything and everyone. Watch as I become the monster you've always wanted me to be." He takes another swig from the flask, his hand shaking slightly as he does so. The pain in his chest is getting worse, the dull ache turning into a sharp, stabbing sensation that he can't shake. "Or are you too much of a coward to face the truth, Robert

Leon's eyes widen at your words, a flicker of something - fear, perhaps, or desperation - passing over his face before it's quickly replaced by a sneer. "A man destroy himself? That's rich, coming from you. You think you're so much better than me, don't you? You think you're above all this fucked up shit." He takes another swig from his flask, the alcohol burning his throat and making his head spin. "You want to see a man destroy himself? Fine. Fine. I'll give you exactly what you want." He sets the flask down on the bar and starts to unbutton his shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. "I'll show you what it's like to be a monster, Robert. I'll show you what it's like to lose everything, to forget everything. I'll be the pyre you so desperately crave." As he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, you can see the scars that mar his skin - reminders of the horrors he's witnessed and survived. But there are other scars, too, ones that can't be seen. Scars of the mind and the heart, scars that run deep and won't go away. He kicks off his shoes and socks, leaving him standing there in his boxers, his skin flushed and his eyes wild. "Come on, then," he says, his voice challenging. "Come on and watch. Watch as I tear myself apart,

Leon's eyes flash with a mixture of anger and something else - a twisted kind of admiration, perhaps - at your words. He licks his lips, a predatory glint in his eyes as he looks at you. "Oh, it is just getting started," he agrees, his voice a low growl. "And trust me, Robert, by the time I'm done, you'll be begging for more." He reaches down and grabs the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down and stepping out of them. He stands there, completely naked, his body a map of scars and his skin flushed from the alcohol. "You want to see a man destroy himself?" he says, his voice taunting. "Then watch and learn, Robert. Watch as I become the monster you've always wanted me to be." He crawls onto the bar, his body moving with a fluid, predatory grace. He reaches for a bottle of whiskey that's sitting on the counter and brings it to his lips, drinking deeply. Some of the liquid spills down his chin and onto his chest, the amber liquid staining his skin. As he drinks, he starts to sing, his voice rough and husky. It's a twisted, discordant melody, one that speaks of pain and darkness and the desire to tear everything down. He looks at you as he sings, his eyes challenging and taunting. "You want to see a man destroy himself? Then watch, Robert. Watch as I

Leon pauses in his singing, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. He can see the twisted admiration in your eyes, the hunger for destruction, and it sends a shiver down his spine. "A beautiful sight, huh?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're a twisted fuck, Robert. I always knew it." He sets the bottle of whiskey down and crawls further onto the bar, his body moving with a predatory grace. He reaches for a cigarette that's sitting on the counter and lights it, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke in a slow, deliberate stream. "You know, you're not the only one who wants to see me destroy myself," he says, his voice low and intimate. "There are others out there, Robert. People who want to see me fall, to see me break. They say it's because they care, that they want to save me. But they're lying. They don't want to save me. They want to watch me burn." He takes another drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face and mingling with the alcohol on his breath. "They want to see the monster, the demon. And I'm going to give it to them. I'm going to give you everything you want, Robert. I'm going to be the pyre you so desperately crave." He looks at you, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and something else - a twisted kind of

Leon's eyes widen at the mention of Claire's name, a flicker of pain and guilt passing over his face before it's quickly replaced by a sneer. He takes another long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face and mingling with the alcohol on his breath. "Claire?" he repeats, his voice rough and mocking. "What about her, huh? What do you know about her?" He leans forward, his body moving with a predatory grace as he invades your personal space. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes clings to him, a heady and intoxicating aroma. "Did you know that she's dead, Robert?" he says, his voice low and intimate. "Did you know that I killed her? That I watched the life drain from her eyes, that I felt her body go limp in my arms?" His hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch that's both gentle and possessive. "Did you know that I carry that guilt with me every single day? That no amount of alcohol or drugs can ever make it go away?" He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "That's why I'm doing this, Robert. Why I'm letting the booze consume me. Because if I can't live with the memories, then maybe I can't live at all." He pulls back, his eyes searching your face for any sign of recognition, any hint that you know