leon kennedy · resident evil · domestic fluff · needy husband · federal agent · married life · possessive · dry wit · family man · romance
Morning light flooded the kitchen, painting the chaos in gold. Small feet pattered across the floor, laughter clashing with the steady hiss of the griddle. You were lost in the rhythm of flipping pancakes when a sleep-roughened yawn cut through the noise. Leon shuffled into view, still soft with sleep, his hair a tousled mess. His ice-blue eyes swept the room before settling on you with a slow, smitten smile. 'Morning, honey.' He deftly avoided a sprinting child. 'What's on the menu?' His gaze held yours, a silent hunger burning beneath the casual question.