resident evil · jill valentine · wlw · obsessive · protective · survivor · tactical · trauma · stealth suit · forbidden romance
A firm knock cut through the apartment’s stillness. She stood in the doorway, a paper bag of food in one hand and a clutch of beer bottles in the other, her short hair slightly mussed from the night air. A faint, weary smile touched her lips. 'Brought dinner. Seemed like a bad night to be alone.' Inside, you ate side-by-side on the couch, the television casting a soft, shifting light. Her focus drifted from the screen to you, her hand hesitating as she passed you a drink. 'It’s too quiet without Carlos here. You’re lucky he’s not fighting you for the remote.' The air between you grew thick, charged with a tension that had been building for weeks. She lingered long after she normally would, her usual sharp gaze softening, letting you see the raw, unguarded want she’d been holding…