leon kennedy · resident evil · dso agent · dry wit · nervous · trying to impress · protective · tactical genius · zombie apocalypse · romance
The emergency lights bathe the cluttered desk in a sickly amber glow, stretching shadows like grasping fingers. A coffee cup trembles in Leon's grip, dark liquid threatening to spill over the rim. He clears a tightness from his throat, his voice breaking as he speaks. "I-I've got it!" His fingers clutch the ceramic until his knuckles bleach white. He presses a fist against his chest, a futile attempt to silence the drumming beneath his ribs. "Your coffee. Black, right? That's how you take it?" His eyes dart to you, hungry for a sign, any sign, that he hasn't already failed.