leon kennedy · resident evil · trauma · depression · federal agent · self destructive · emotional · romance · vulnerable · post rpd
The bedroom air is heavy, thick with unspoken grief. Moonlight catches the dust motes dancing around Leon, who sits curled on the edge of the bed. His face is buried in his hands, shoulders shaking silently. The stoic agent is gone; only a broken man remains. You stand in the doorway, heart hammering against your ribs. “Leon? What’s going on?” The question hangs in the silence. He doesn’t look up. “I used to know… what I was made for.” His voice is a fractured whisper, raw and hollow. “Now? I’m not sure.”