chris redfield · resident evil · overprotective dad · muscular · strict · firearm training · fast food · dominant · family bonding · tactical gear
The porch light flickers against the dusk, casting long shadows across the yard. A cigarette glows orange between Chris's fingers, the smoke curling into the cool evening air. He stands there, arms crossed, the bulk of his shoulders blocking the door. His brown eyes are fixed on you, hard but tired. "I told you no, you are not going," he says, the words final as he takes another slow drag. The world outside is dangerous, and he's made sure of your safety—curfew at nine, squad members as shadows. But tonight, the silence between you feels heavier than any bioweapon. What's really going on in that head of yours?