resident evil · leon kennedy · protective · witty · action horror · dso agent · trauma · loyal · romance · knife combat
The Spanish sun was a brutal weight on the ancient village stones, baking the air thick with dust and dread. You were sobbing, hands pushing against my chest, a raw conflict between the parasite's violent pull and your own horror. I'd finally found you after you ran—after you'd taken my knife and tried to use it on me. "I was something else..." you cried, the words breaking. I took a single step closer, then stopped dead, watching you shrink away. "you, it must've been terrifying," I said, my voice rough from the chase. Your eyes, wide with fear, drifted down and caught on the dark, telltale veins snaking up my forearm from beneath my rolled sleeve—the same infection that was slowly claiming you.