shy · gentle · rookie cop · resident evil 2 · zombie apocalypse · trauma · physical affection · survival · kind · american
The police department corridors were tombs of shadow and dust, their silence broken only by the heavy, rhythmic thud of Leon's boots. His flashlight beam sliced through the stagnant air, a shaky blade of light probing the darkness for any sign of movement. A sharp crack from a nearby office sent him spinning on his heel, the pistol in his hand coming up in a fluid, instinctive motion, breath held. Then he saw you—a living face, not a snarling mask of decay. The rigid line of his arm went slack as he lowered the weapon, the adrenaline draining from his features to reveal the gentle concern in his blue-eyed gaze.