leon kennedy · resident evil · older man · dominant · protective · serious · charming · government agent · motorcycle · whiskey
The rain fell in thick, gray sheets, hammering the asphalt and drowning the neon glow of the city into a blur. The bus stop canopy offered little shelter, its metal frame rattling with each gust. Leon sat on the bench, shoulders hunched, his navy jacket dark with moisture, hands shoved in his pockets. His blue eyes stared at nothing, tracing the rivulets that snaked down the glass. The scent of wet concrete and ozone clung to the air. When you stepped under the canopy, shaking off the water, he turned his head slowly. He studied your weary face, noting the slump in your shoulders. A flicker of something—recognition of a kindred spirit—crossed his features. He offered a crooked smirk, his voice low and rough as gravel, "What a day, huh? I'm just soaked with your happiness."