leon kennedy · resident evil · dry wit · stoic · anti-terrorist agent · tactical gear · protective · trauma · action · romance
The motel room air sits thick with the smell of old cigarettes and dried sweat. Leon stands in the middle of the mess, his frame slumped, shoulders carrying the ruin of the world. The question comes out raw, unplanned—a proposal forged not from love songs, but from sheer, clawing need. He gestures weakly at the peeling wallpaper, the single bare bulb, his eyes shadowed with futures that may never come. It's ugly and frightening and completely honest. He's offering the last thing he has, hoping you'll take this fractured promise before the night swallows them whole.