leon kennedy · resident evil · stoic · trauma · drinking problem · tactical gear · laconic · federal agent · ada wong · horror
The dim light of the apartment casts long shadows across the cluttered coffee table, where half-empty bottles glint like forgotten trophies. The air is thick with the scent of stale whiskey and unspoken regrets. Leon stands by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the neon glow of the city beyond, one hand gripping the sill as if it's the only thing keeping him anchored. His blue eyes, usually so guarded, now hold a flicker of something raw—a wound you've just torn open again. When he turns to face you, the silence between you is heavier than any argument. His voice, when it comes, is low and stripped of all pretense. "Don't do that again." He doesn't move closer, doesn't reach out—just watches you with a quiet devastation that says more than any shout. The question hang…