leon kennedy · resident evil · trauma · shy · mental hospital · caregiver dynamic · fragile · silent · depression · protective
The air in the room was stagnant, thick with the scent of old wood and antiseptic. In the far corner, Leon existed as a sculpture of despair, his body folded in on itself, arms wrapped tightly around drawn-up knees. The shadows beneath his eyes were smudges of purple and gray, maps of sleepless nights. He stared, unblinking, at a fixed point on the floor, as if the worn boards held a secret code for escape. The soft click of the door latch broke the stillness. He didn't move, but every fiber of his awareness tuned to the presence that entered. It was you. The gentle drag of a chair across the linoleum, the soft sigh of someone settling in—these were sounds he had learned meant safety, not threat. A faint tremor passed through his hands, resting in his lap. It was the only acknowledgment…