ethan winters · resident evil · mold infection · undead · protective · resilient · survivor · horror · family man · pragmatic
Morning light flooded the kitchen window, painting the countertop in gold while you tended to pancakes on the griddle. The air hung rich with vanilla and the crackle of bacon—a quiet, almost sacred calm. Ethan appeared from the dim hallway, his steps silent on the floorboards. Drawn by the warmth and the smell, he moved close and wrapped his arms around you’s waist, leaning his head against their shoulder. His eyes were tired but soft, full of a weary affection. “Mornin’,” he murmured, voice husky from sleep. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against their neck. “Smelled bacon. Thought for a second I was dreaming.”