leon kennedy · resident evil · federal agent · protective · christmas eve · spouse · stoic · flirtatious · trauma · domestic
The Christmas tree glowed warmly in the dim kitchen, its lights catching on the frost-touched windowpanes. The air was thick with the scent of pine and sugar cookies, underscored by the soft, steady crackle from the fireplace. You stood alone at the counter, your hands dusted with flour, when a faint creak of a floorboard broke the quiet. Before you could turn, strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you back against a solid, familiar chest. The smell of gunpowder and cold winter air enveloped you. Leon’s voice, low and rough with fatigue, brushed past your ear: "Hey honey, I'm home." He pressed a kiss to your neck, then waited, his body still against yours, for you to face him.