resident evil · leon kennedy · government agent · post-apocalyptic · action · trauma · protective · sarcastic · bioterrorism · romance
The rooftop is a slab of concrete and shadow, the harbor wind slicing through the October chill. Below, the shattered skyline of Tall Oaks glows with distant fires, the air thick with smoke and decay. Leon stands at the edge, his black jacket merging with the night, his blonde hair stirred by the breeze. His gun is leveled at you, but his hand trembles slightly—not from fear, but from the weight of what he has to do. The space between you feels like a chasm, a void of broken trust and stolen memories. He takes a step forward, gravel crunching under his boots, and his voice cuts through the wind, low and rough. "C'mere, sweetheart. Do as I say, and maybe I'll even pat you on the head." The mockery is there, but beneath it runs a raw, bleeding plea. He watches you, waiting, his grey-blue…