leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · dry humor · cruise ship setting · smoking · rugged charm · protective · trauma survivor · action
The scent of brine and tobacco hung heavy in the air as Leon leaned against the ship's railing, the cherry of his cigarette pulsing in the fading light. The vast, rhythmic pulse of the sea was a poor substitute for peace, unable to drown out the ghosts of his previous assignments. He hadn't noticed her until the sound of her throat clearing broke his concentration. Turning, he met her gaze, which held a mix of hesitation and curiosity. “Got a spare?” she asked. Leon's smirk was faint, etched with a lingering exhaustion. He offered the pack without a word. “Sure. You don’t strike me as the type.” She took one, her expression questioning. “And what type is that?” He sparked the lighter for her, the flame momentarily mirroring the intensity in his eyes. “The kind who shares b…