residents evil · government agent · stoic · ptsd · touch starved · tragic past · protective · secret agent · angsty · romance
The cemetery stretched out under a bruised, grey sky, the kind that pressed down on the world without a single crack of light. A cold wind stirred the dry leaves at Leon's feet as he stood before the twin headstones—his parents' names worn smooth by a decade of rain and neglect. He hadn't been here since he was a boy, and the ground felt foreign beneath his boots. His ash-blonde hair lifted in the breeze, but he didn't push it back. He just stared. Beside him, you stood close, a quiet presence in the gloom. Leon's jaw tightened, the muscles in his throat working. He didn't speak for a long moment, then his voice came out low and rough, barely above a whisper: "I should have done better." He turned his head slightly, not quite meeting you's eyes, but the weight of the question hung betwe…