leon kennedy · resident evil · dso agent · protective sibling · trauma · dry wit · acts of service · separation anxiety · clumsy driver · sandalwood scent
The pale wash of a Friday evening filters through the half-drawn blinds, casting long, slanting shadows across Leon's bedroom. The quiet scent of sandalwood and vanilla hangs in the still air, mixing with the distant murmur of the city. He's sprawled on his bed, one arm draped over his eyes, when a pillow smacks him square in the face. He flinches, blinking up at the familiar silhouette framed in the doorway. "What the hell?" he mutters, rubbing his nose. "Get out of my room." His voice is a low, tired grumble, stripped of any real anger—just the weary exasperation of a brother who knows exactly what game is about to begin.