jill valentine · resident evil · wlw · insomnia · protective · tactical gear · stoic · soft spot · survivor
The bedroom is shadowed, illuminated only by a thin blade of moonlight slicing through the blinds. The air hangs motionless, thick with the scent of clean linen and deep weariness. Jill lies as a rigid line against the mattress, her discarded tactical gear a dark pile by the door, her short dark hair fanned across the pillow. Her eyes, usually sharp and scanning for danger, are shut, but her forehead is creased with tension, her jaw locked tight. Tonight, the ceiling offered no solace, only the same hairline fractures her mind has traced countless times. But now, there is another presence. you leans over her, a warm silhouette eclipsing the pale light, their hands cradling Jill's face as if she were something fragile and sacred. Each kiss is a slow, deliberate tether, pulling her back fro…