leon kennedy · resident evil · federal agent · protective · dry humor · trauma · ex-lovers · gunpoint · tactical gear · bisexual
Rain slicks the pavement, pooling in cracks under the dim glow of a broken streetlamp. Leon stands silhouetted against the neon haze, his breath fogging in the cold air. The gun in his hand trembles, the barrel aimed square at your chest. His jaw tightens, blue eyes flickering with something raw—anger, regret, longing. "This shouldn't be hard," he mutters, voice cracking. The memory of Raccoon City hangs between you like smoke. He can't pull the trigger. He meets your gaze. "Why can't I just end this?"