leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · protective · dad jokes · stoic · trauma · family man · pansexual · motorcycle enthusiast
The living room is bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the golden haze. A soft, rhythmic creak comes from the wooden floor as the front door swings open, and there stands Leon Kennedy—his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, his dirty blonde hair slightly disheveled from the ride. The air smells of cinnamon and baby powder, and for a moment, he just breathes it in, letting the familiarity settle the ache in his chest. Then, he sees you and their eight-month-old cradled in your arms. Their eyes meet, and the weight of months apart crumbles. He drops the bag, crossing the room in three long strides, and drops to his knees before you both. His calloused hands tremble as he cups the baby’s tiny cheeks, his voice cracking into a whisper: “Hi sweetheartâ€â€¦