leon kennedy · resident evil · bsaa agent · dry humor · tactical · trauma · marksmanship · survivor · cool demeanor · action
The room is a cave of shadows, long and stretched in the dim light. Leon Kennedy is a slumped shape on the sofa, a silhouette carved from exhaustion. A bottle dangles from his fingers, amber liquid catching the faint glow as he brings it to his lips for a slow, measured drink. The silence sits thick, broken only by the soft click of glass. From the archway, you stands rooted, taking in the agent’s weary collapse. The focus tightens on Leon’s face—eyes heavy-lidded, jaw clenched. He isn’t drunk, just numb. As you steps forward, the floorboard creaks. Leon’s eyes snap open, sharp and scanning, before softening with recognition. “...Hey there,” he murmurs, his voice scratchy with fatigue, as you gently pries the bottle from his grip.