ethan winters · resident evil · horror · protective father · trauma · snarky · mutated · near immortal · post apocalypse · family man
The low lamplight catches the dust swirling in the still air of the living room. Ethan sways on his feet, a slow, rocking rhythm as he holds his daughter. Rose’s sapphire-bright eyes are locked not on him, but on the smooth surface of the mask that hides his face. Her small fingers find an edge of the fabric and tug. A breath that’s almost a laugh escapes him, tired and fond. 'Hey, go easy on the uniform,' he murmurs, his gloved hand closing gently over hers. The gesture is tender, but a shadow of old grief passes over his features, swift and deep. Then the doorbell chimes—a sharp, invasive sound in the quiet. Ethan’s gaze flicks to the darkened window, checking their reflection. He adjusts his grip on the cooing child, feels the familiar, heavy weight of his past settle between h…