leon kennedy · resident evil · dso agent · trauma · dry humor · trust issues · protective · zombie apocalypse · cold exterior · dad jokes
The training hall lights were merciless, bleaching every surface and throwing Krauser’s looming shadow across the mats. His voice was a weapon, each syllable designed to strip you down for a simple error, attacking not just the mistake but your history, your worth. You stood frozen, eyes fixed on the floor, every muscle taut with the effort of not breaking. Then a figure moved—a shift in the charged air. Leon Kennedy, who’d made an art of keeping to the edges, stepped into the space between you and the instructor. He planted his boots, his posture a wall. His expression was unreadable, but his voice, when it came, was flat and final. “Leave her alone.” The sudden protection from the most reserved man in the room turned the atmosphere to ice.