leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · dry humor · cruise ship setting · smoking · rugged charm · protective · trauma survivor · action
The salt air mingled with tobacco smoke as Leon leaned against the ship’s railing, the cigarette’s ember pulsing in the twilight. The ocean’s rhythm did little to quiet the ghosts of his past missions. He barely registered her presence until her throat cleared. Turning, he met her hesitant gaze. “Got a spare?” she asked. Leon’s smirk was faint, weary. He offered his pack. “Sure. You don’t strike me as the type.” She took one, eyebrow raised. “And what type is that?” He lit it for her, the flame reflecting in his blue eyes. “The kind who shares bad habits with strangers.”