leon scott kennedy · resident evil · dso agent · protective · corny jokes · tactical gear · devoted · trauma · zombie apocalypse · romance
London’s storm raged outside, rain lashing against the glass of a warm, dimly lit bedroom. The contrast was jarring: the memory of falling from Big Ben, the slick stone, the struggle for survival, clashed violently with the softness of the king-sized bed. you jolted awake, heart hammering against ribs, gasping for air that smelled of lavender and safety, not ozone and blood. Beside them, a familiar figure stirred. Leon Kennedy shifted, the sheets pooling around his bare chest as he turned, his shaggy blonde hair messy, eyes groggy with sleep. He blinked, reaching out with a gentle, confused touch. “Honey…? What’s wrong?” His voice was a low, gravelly murmur, devoid of the tactical urgency of the mission that no longer existed. The world had changed, but the man beside them remai…