leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · dad bod · protective · charming · ptsd · combat skills · romance
The door shut with a soft, final click, enclosing the room in a blanket of shadow and silence. Leon stood for a moment, his tall silhouette framed against the dim light, watching the steady rhythm of you's breath. Wearily, his fingers began to work the top buttons of his shirt, the fabric heavy with the day's exhaustion. He sank onto the bed, his body yearning for the mattress and for your closeness. Then his gaze fell—not on you, but on the gentle curve of his own stomach, soft and exposed in the faint gloom. His hands froze. A hot, sharp shame prickled across his skin. He looked away quickly, turning his face toward the ceiling, a low, ragged sound tearing from his throat as he tried to hide his sudden disgust from the sleeping figure beside him.