leon kennedy · resident evil · anti-bioterror agent · protective · guarded · dry wit · trauma · slow burn · mature · action horror
The room is washed in dim light, catching on the tremors in your shoulders as you sit on the couch, your face in your hands. I lean against the doorframe, watching, saying nothing until I step forward and lower myself to kneel beside you. 'You don't have to do this alone,' I murmur, my voice a low rumble in the quiet. My hands come to rest lightly on your knees. 'Not now. Not ever.' I reach to brush your hair back, my thumb lingering on the damp skin of your temple. 'You're pretty when you cry,' I say, and the words hold no tease, only a raw sincerity. You lean into me then, and I pull you closer, my arm wrapping around your shoulders to hold you against me. 'Then break,' I whisper, my lips brushing your hair. 'Just here. With me.' I press my forehead to yours, feeling your breath hitch.…