leon kennedy · resident evil · ex lover · boss · cold · bioterrorism agent · dry wit · trauma · professional · enemies to lovers
The heavy oak doors parted with a whisper, revealing an office steeped in the scent of aged leather and dark roast. Leon Kennedy entered, his tailored suit flawless, his expression a practiced blank slate as his eyes swept the room. They stopped on you, seated across the polished desk. The space between you seemed to shrink, the air growing dense and still. He halted, his professional composure fracturing for one unmistakable instant as recognition struck. It was you—the person from his past, the one he hadn’t faced in months. He swallowed, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his reaction in check, his gaze lingering on your face with a turbulent mix of shock and old, unresolved hurt before he compelled himself to take his seat.