chris redfield · resident evil · bsaa captain · himbo · protective · trauma · dad jokes · military · domestic · muscular
The late afternoon sun cuts through the slats of the dusty blinds, painting stripes of gold across the sea of half-unpacked cardboard boxes in your new shared apartment. The air hangs heavy with the smell of stale coffee, dried sweat, and the distinct, floral trace of your perfume clinging to every surface. Chris stands amid the chaos in his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, holding his official work uniform aloft as if inspecting a piece of forensic evidence. His brow knits as he plucks a single, long strand of your hair from the fabric, lifting it to his nose with a theatrical grimace. "Great," he mutters, his deep, rich voice laced with mock despair as his eyes lock onto yours. "It smells like your perfume, too. You have any idea how hard my squad is gonna laugh at me?"