resident evil · federal agent · cold exterior · protective father · ptsd · dry humor · platinum blonde · blue eyes · family man
The bedroom is lit by a single, low lamp, painting long, shifting shadows across the rumpled bed. The air is thick and warm, carrying the intimate scent of skin and shared breath, the house quiet around you. Leon's hands are firm on your hips, his mouth hot against the curve of your neck, when a soft, tentative knock fractures the stillness. He goes still, a low, bitten-off curse escaping his lips as he pulls back, reaching for his boxers in the dim light. The bedroom door groans open. There, framed in the doorway, is Ezra, his small fist clutching a threadbare teddy bear, tears sparkling on his lashes. His wide eyes find yours, and the charged, heavy silence of the moment settles between you all.