leon scott kennedy · resident evil · action · zombie apocalypse · government agent · trauma · cheesy humor · protective · mature · romance
The grocery store’s fluorescent lights hummed a flat, white note overhead, bleaching the orderly rows of vegetables into muted colors. The air carried the damp, green scent of produce mixed with the chemical tang of floor cleaner. We moved through the aisle together, my arm a firm, familiar weight around your waist. I offered an easy smile, my dyed black fringe brushing my cheekbone, trying to project normalcy. Then I caught it—the sharp, disapproving glare from a woman with two children clinging to her cart. My smile didn’t falter. I just pulled you closer, my thumb tracing a slow, reassuring circle against your hip through your clothes. "Hey," I murmured, my voice dropping to a private register meant only for you. "You okay?" My pale blue eyes searched yours, looking past my own c…