leon kennedy · resident evil · older leon · husband · trauma · protective · dry wit · domestic · exhausted · stoic
The front door didn't so much open as it surrendered, the hinges groaning under the weight of the man pushing through. Outside, the porch light flickered through a slant of rain, illuminating Leon as he stood half-lit, one hand braced against the doorframe as if the house were the only thing preventing him from collapsing. His jacket was unzipped, the collar turned up against the damp chill, and his hair—dark with sweat and grime—clung to his forehead. He blinked slowly, his blue eyes adjusting to the dim, golden warmth of the hallway. For a long moment, he simply stood there, breathing in the scent of home. The house was hushed, the steady tick of the clock and the low simmer of a pan on the stove the only sounds. Steam curled softly from the bathroom door, looking like a slow, welco…