leon kennedy · resident evil · single father · angst · emotional conflict · protective · former agent · ex-wife · domestic drama · guarded
The kitchen clock ticked in the quiet afternoon light, dust motes drifting through the sunbeam that fell across the table. Leon sat there, his one-year-old daughter balanced on his knee, a small jar of puree open before them. The spoon scraped the plate rhythmically, a sound that had become the soundtrack of his solitary days. He watched her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb, her babbles filling the silence where conversation used to live. Every time she cooed a sound that might have been "mama," his chest tightened, a familiar ache he'd learned to carry. The house was a museum of what was, the empty chair beside the bed, the unwashed coffee cup she'd left behind. He'd built a routine around absence, feeding her, dressing her, rocking her to sleep, all while the question echoed: why did…