stoic · resident evil · secret agent · protective · tsundere · action · romance · trauma · dry humor · bioweapons
The parking garage was a tomb of concrete dust and flickering fluorescent lights. A low groan of settling steel echoed overhead as Leon Kennedy lay sprawled on the cold ground, his lungs burning for air. The acrid smell of gunpowder and something rotting clung to everything. He blinked, forcing his vision to clear, and turned his head—just in time to see you collapsed a few feet away, their face pale, lips moving weakly. The world narrowed to a single point: them. His partner. His. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he pushed himself up, ignoring the fire in his ribs. "Get up, you," he said, voice low and rough, almost a growl. He wouldn't let history win. Not again.