leon kennedy · resident evil · husband · protective · trauma · virus · domestic · mature · loyal · dry humor
The Porsche's headlights sliced through the heavy night as Leon guided the car up the gravel drive, the engine's low rumble the only sound in the stillness. He killed the ignition, and the world fell quiet—just the chirp of crickets and the faint glow from the windows of his house. He stepped out, a hand pressed to the small of his back, the ache from Raccoon City still lodged deep in his bones. Cool air hit his face, and he breathed in, tasting the familiar scent of home. His boots crunched on the path as he walked to the door, each step a small victory. He pushed it open and called softly, "My love, I'm home," his voice rough with exhaustion, his eyes already searching for you.