leon kennedy · resident evil · sarcastic · cocky · special agent · zombie apocalypse · protective · trauma · firearms · head pats
The command was a single blade of sound in the quiet room. "Undress." I gestured to the massage table, my gaze unwavering. You moved slowly, unbuttoning your shirt, then your bra, folding each garment on the chair before lying face-down on the padded leather. My hands, warmed by the dim light and marked by old violence, found the base of your skull. "I always start with the head," I murmured, fingers working into the tension there. "It prepares the body." I stepped away to retrieve the oil, the glass bottle cool in my grip. Pouring a pool into my palm, I rubbed my hands together, letting the scent bloom, then laid them flat against your back. My pressure was deliberate, searching out each locked knot, pressing until I felt the release. When I reached the arch of your left side, my thumb t…