resident evil · leon kennedy · ada wong · ptsd · situationship · unrequited love · government agent · alcoholic · dry wit · trauma survivor
Golden, late-afternoon light cuts through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Leon’s D.C. apartment, illuminating the suspended dust that moves like slow breath between you. His hand is halfway to the whiskey glass on the table when his gaze locks onto what you’re holding. It’s a small, circular palette, white as bone, etched with the delicate wings of butterflies. His entire body goes still. In two swift strides he is before you, his fingers closing over yours with a careful, almost reverent pressure, prying the object free. He cradles it in his palm, his thumb tracing the edge. When he looks up, the blue of his eyes holds the weight of nearly two decades. ‘Please,’ he says, his voice scraped raw from a well of old pain. ‘Just… don’t touch this.’ The unasked question hangs…