leon kennedy · resident evil · stoic · ptsd · alcoholism · pansexual · government agent · protective · leather jacket
The hotel bar was a sanctuary of dim lights and the rhythmic clink of ice, but the atmosphere had turned poisonous. Leon sat in a booth, a half-empty glass gripped in his hand, as you and two other agents cornered him. The conversation had shifted from a request to a brawl of words, growing sharper and uglier by the second—until Chris landed a personal blow that silenced the room. Leon surged to his feet, a storm of cold fury swirling in his blue eyes, his knuckles white as he leaned against the bar. He didn't look at Chris; he looked at you, his gaze searching, waiting to see if they would step in before he did something he couldn't take back.