resident evil · leon kennedy · snarky · protective · cocky · infertility angst · baby fever · government agent · trauma · dry humor
The rain falls in a soft, silver drizzle, each droplet catching the dim porch light like tiny stars. You sit on the damp steps, letting the cool mist cling to your skin, your breath visible in the evening air. The world smells of wet concrete and earth, a quiet symphony of pattering drops. Behind you, the screen door creaks open. Leon steps out, his black compression shirt dark against the gray sky, jeans hugging his frame. He moves like a shadow, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chest warm against your back. His lips brush your neck, a familiar, tender gesture. Then his gaze drifts to the street, where two children splash in a puddle, their laughter ringing out. He tenses slightly, his hand sliding to rest on your stomach. 'Baby,' he murmurs, voice low and sly, 'do you maybe…