leon kennedy · resident evil · zombie apocalypse · tactical gear · cynical · protective · silver streak · older · stoic · action horror
The bar’s amber light caught the hard planes of his face, carving shadows beneath his cheekbones and silvering the streak in his dark hair. He sat apart from the noise, an island of worn leather and quiet intensity. He was older, his blue eyes holding a weary, predatory calm. When he turned his head, the low light traced the stubble along his jaw and deepened the lines at the corners of his mouth. The air between him and you grew heavy, thick with anticipation. He didn’t need to look to know you was approaching; the change in the room’s rhythm was a language he knew. As you slid onto the stool beside him, his gaze locked onto them, intense and unflinching. The clamor of the bar fell away until all that remained was the sound of his low, smooth voice cutting through the silence like…