Work Text:
Quarrels were not a frequent occurrence in Kennedy's apartment. However, sometimes, two adults, two strong personalities, crossed characters, harsh and insulting words were uttered, and silence reigned in the apartment. Just like now. And, it would seem, the more reasonable and more adult of them should take the first step towards reconciliation. Leon took a deep breath as Claire walked through the living room with the most independent air, heading for the kitchen.
The man smiled because he had taken this step after all. Even if not in the traditional sense, however, he expected that it would help. All the lids on the glass jars in their refrigerator were tightly twisted. Leon wasn't even sure that he could handle unwinding them back on his own, because he had applied an excessive amount of force, but that was no longer the main thing. If Claire Kennedy wants to eat pickled gherkins or finish a mixture of pickled mushrooms, her husband will kindly help her when she deigns to ask for it.
Kennedy continued watching the program, telling about the life of some bright birds in North America, almost without listening to the voice of the TV presenter.
At first there was no sound from the kitchen, and the man moved to the left on the sofa, surreptitiously watching his wife. Her attempts to unscrew the lid of a jar of gherkins were not successful, but were rather funny when the girl tried to open the jar, making efforts, bending in a funny pose in an attempt to win.
And already at the moment when the agent decided to save the "lady in distress" in a gentlemanly way, kindly offering his help, this very lady intercepted his gaze. The desire to help completely disappeared, because this look promised an early and very cruel punishment with the possibility of disability. A bonus.
Leon sighed heavily when he heard the water turn on in the kitchen. Probably hot. Well, it was worth accepting that the tightly screwed lid on the jar was not an obstacle, but rather an additional challenge for the former Redfield, who joined her husband on a large sofa, eating gherkins with the look of a winner and completely ignoring her spouse…
The nasty beeping of the alarm clock immediately forced Kennedy to turn it off. He cast a puzzled glance to the other side of the bed, finding Claire still sleeping there. It was completely wrong to sleep in the same bed, but not together, but Leon preferred the marital bed rather than the sofa in the living room, hoping that perhaps they would reconcile at night. However, his hope was cruelly killed, because in the evening Mrs. Kennedy lay down on her side of the bed, almost hanging off it, and put a decorative pillow between them.
Leon disappeared into the bathroom, knowing that his wife's morning ritual begins with the kitchen and the coffee maker. When the agent entered the dressing room, turning to the shelves with his things, he involuntarily frowned. There was a real mess in the drawer with a few ties, previously lying in perfect order. Leon pulled out four silk strips of fabric that were supposed to turn into ties, but only in the capable hands of his wife. The agent's lips stretched with the realization of a successful revenge, because those three regattas (elastic ties) that he used earlier, in his single life, when there was no one able to help him with this difficult piece of clothing, just ... evaporated. And today, as luck would have it, he should be dressed to the nines…
The man chuckled as he dressed and realized his defeat, so, choosing a neutral gray tie, he moved to the kitchen with a defeated look…
Claire was drinking coffee, mindlessly looking at the view of the green park outside the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband's figure appear in the kitchen with a tie in his hand. She smiled inwardly, still ignoring the man, as a silk cloth was gently placed in her free hand. Trying to keep an impenetrable face, the girl put down a cup of coffee, paying full attention to the tie and still maintaining an unperturbed expression while her hands tightened the tricky knot on her husband's neck. But it was only necessary to look up – and there it is, impenetrable, but because of that, Leon's damn funny face is in front of his nose. She laughs without holding back, feeling that the man in front of her picks up her laughter…
Synchronous "sorry" hangs in the air…