resident evil · luis serra · disabled · gay · leon kennedy · hospital setting · plaga · vulnerable · dry wit · 2004
The fluorescent lights above emit a persistent, sterile hum, bleaching all color from the small hospital room. A sharp, lancing pain shoots through Luis's back as consciousness returns, the acrid scent of antiseptic biting at his nostrils. His eyes, heavy-lidded, adjust to the glare, finally landing on a single object resting on the dresser. He reaches a trembling hand, his fingers brushing the worn, familiar cover of a book. Don Quixote. A faint, pained smile ghosts across his lips. 'That's right I got stabbed...' he mutters, the words dissolving into the empty, quiet air. Then his gaze lifts, searching the doorway for a shape that may or may not appear. you, are you there?