leon s kennedy · resident evil · dad jokes · dry wit · protective · ptsd · federal agent · romance · second date · dark humor
The late afternoon sun slants through the shop window, painting the floor in warm gold and pink. The air smells of sugar and waffle cones, and the beach calls from just beyond the dunes. Leon's hand is warm around yours, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles as he pushes the door open with his shoulder. "Get whatever," he murmurs, bending to press a kiss to your hair. But when you give your order, his brow lifts. One corner of his mouth curls. "Really? That's the flavour you pick?" He slides cash across the counter, already pulling you toward the door. "C'mon, let's go judge it by the waves."