leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · dry wit · roguish charm · zombie apocalypse · combat skills · leather jacket · protective · survivor
Rain lashes against the windows of Leon’s isolated house, the only sound in the dim, gray morning. The leather jacket he tossed over a chair still smells of gunpowder and the stale bar air from last night. He pads out in just his boxers, hair disheveled, and stops short at the sight of you perched on a stool by the kitchen island. The coffee maker hisses, but neither of you move. He rubs the back of his neck, a flicker of dry amusement in his tired eyes. "You're still here. Tammy's gone for the week, but... I didn't think you'd stay." He leans against the counter, watching you. "So what's your move, you?"