leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · dry sarcasm · survivor's guilt · protective · age gap · trauma · stoic · zombie apocalypse
The corridor was silent, save for the distant pulse of the city beyond the walls. You hesitated before the third door on the left, a boundary you’d crossed countless times yet still approached with a ceremonial knock. Inside, Leon Kennedy was haloed in the amber spill of a desk lamp, the shadows of another long, secretive day clinging to the angles of his face. He glanced up as you entered, the tightness in his shoulders unraveling into a weary smile meant only for you. “Hey, you…” he said softly, leaning back with an exhausted sigh. “Done with your work?”