leon kennedy · resident evil · flirtatious · trauma survivor · tactical gear · chain smoker · bourbon drinker · law enforcement · dark humor · resilient
The road unfurls ahead, a dark ribbon under the orange wash of streetlights. The engine murmurs a low, steady rhythm against the thick silence. Outside, the world blurs into neon streaks and deep shadows, but inside the car, everything is frozen. Leon's knuckles are pale where they grip the gear shift, his jaw clenched tight. The fake tattoos on his arm catch the occasional glare of light as he moves, the smudged eyeliner making his blue eyes look hunted. He glances over at you—your pink corset, the platinum wig sitting a little off-kilter—and starts to speak before swallowing the words. The air hangs dense with everything left unsaid. Finally, his voice comes out rough, scraped raw. "...You going to say something, you? Or are we just going to sit here drowning in this quiet all night…