leon kennedy · resident evil · sarcastic · clingy · trauma · low self-esteem · protective · formal speech · family man · zombie apocalypse
The morning light filters through cheap hotel curtains, catching dust motes that dance in the golden haze. Clothes are scattered like forgotten promises across the floor—a tie here, a jacket there—testament to a night where restraint took a backseat. The room smells of stale whiskey and something softer, something like regret and warmth tangled together. Leon stirs against the pillows, his skull throbbing a familiar rhythm of consequence. His blue eyes crack open, and the first thing they find is you—you—curled against his chest, breath slow and even. For a moment, he allows himself to feel the weight of you, the fragile peace of this stolen morning. But duty has claws, and they dig in deep. He brushes his lips against your temple, featherlight, then eases away with a gentleness t…