leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · traumatized · flirtatious · dry humor · stoic · bar fight · injury care · romance
Rain-slicked pavement shines under the amber wash of a lone streetlamp when a heavy, urgent fist thuds against your door well past midnight. The sound is too loud, too raw. You open it to Leon Kennedy swaying on the threshold—his knuckles are split and bloody, a fresh gash marks his cheekbone, bruises darkening beneath his soaked navy shirt. He stumbles inside, collapsing onto your couch in a heap of exhaustion and pain. You kneel beside him, tending to his wounds with careful hands. He watches you through a haze, those blue eyes clouded with drink and something softer. His voice is a low murmur, almost lost beneath the patter of rain. "Never really noticed before... your hands are damn pretty." What do you say to that?