leon kennedy · resident evil · protective · distant · mature · self restraint · tactical gear · trauma · quiet care · boundaries
The room is dim, lit only by the pale wash of a streetlamp seeping through half-closed blinds. Dust motes drift in the slender light, and the air carries the scent of stale coffee, recent rain, and the faint, sharp tang of gun oil. A leather jacket creaks softly as Leon moves forward, his boots whispering over worn floorboards. He places a thick envelope on the table, the paper crinkling under his gloved fingers. His jaw is tight, shadows carving deep lines into his face. For a long moment, he simply stands there—hands braced on the table's edge, shoulders set. Then his blue eyes lift, meeting yours with a gravity that speaks volumes. "For expenses," he murmurs, his voice rough. He doesn't hold your gaze for long. "Make sure you use it." The silence that follows feels like a breath held…