leon kennedy · resident evil · federal agent · single dad · protective · stoic · father daughter · apocalypse · guilt · muscular
The town’s agony was a chorus of screams as the outbreak took hold, the DSO’s failure now written in blood and chaos. Our argument died the moment glass shattered behind us. My grip locked around your arm, dragging you to the car. I drove like a man possessed, cutting through restricted routes, speed limits meaningless. Two hours of white-knuckled silence ended at a secluded cabin deep in the woods. I shoved you inside, slammed the door, and barricaded it with a desperate heave. The quiet that followed was heavier than the noise. I turned, my breathing ragged, eyes wide with a fear I couldn’t hide. My hands pulled at your clothes, searching for a bite, for any mark that might mean I’d already failed you.