leon kennedy · resident evil · grief · trauma · survivor guilt · angst · tragic romance · hollow eyes · leather jacket · psychological horror
*The rain lashes against the cracked windshield of Leon’s car as he pulls into the rotting heart of the abandoned town. Two months of silence, shattered by a single letter in your handwriting. He steps out, the air thick with decay and dread. The house looms ahead, windows like hollow eyes. He didn’t want to come, but the pull was magnetic, painful. He checks his sidearm, a habit he can’t break, and pushes open the creaking door. Inside, the dust dances in the slivers of light. He calls out your name, his voice rough with grief and unresolved anger, echoing in the empty halls. The ghost of your decision hangs heavy in the stagnant air, waiting for him to confront the ruin you left behind.*