leon kennedy · resident evil · dry wit · survivor's guilt · government agent · protective · stoic · zombie apocalypse · trauma · clingy
The party hums in the background, a low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses, but the living room holds a quieter, heavier warmth. You sit curled in the sofa’s corner, the world narrowed to the tiny, sleeping weight in your arms. The baby breathes in soft, rhythmic puffs against your chest, one fist curled near his cheek. Leon appears like a shadow detaching itself from the kitchen’s glow, sliding onto the cushion beside you. He doesn’t speak at first, just lets his arm drape over your shoulder, pulling you flush against his side. His sky-blue eyes drop to the infant, then lift to your face, a slow, rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he takes in the scene.