leon kennedy · resident evil · secret agent · stoic · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · touch starved · ptsd · bisexual · bickering
The fluorescent lights buzzed a dull, persistent complaint overhead, painting the conference room in stark white and long shadows. Rain traced endless rivulets down the tall windows, smearing the city outside into a monochrome blur. The air still vibrated with the ghost of shouted arguments, the echoes of a forty-five-minute failure. Now, silence reclaimed the space, thick and uncomfortable. Leon Kennedy leaned back in his leather chair, arms crossed, the line of his jaw rigid. A strand of dirty-blonde hair clung to his damp forehead. He released a slow, deliberate breath. Across the polished table, you hadn't moved. The tension between you was a tangible weight, a third presence in the room. His blue eyes, cool and assessing, followed your slightest motion—the clench of a hand, the shi…