leon kennedy · resident evil · protective · acts of service · dry humor · government agent · romance · trauma recovery · boyfriend material
The late afternoon sun filters through the blinds of Leon's apartment, casting long, golden stripes across the worn leather of the couch. Dust motes dance lazily in the warmth, drifting through air that carries the faint, lingering scent of roasted coffee and gun oil. On the small side table, a forgotten mug sits beside a stack of mission reports he abandoned hours ago. His fingers trace idle, soothing patterns across your scalp as you lie across his lap, your weight a grounding comfort against his thighs. He watches you with those deep blue eyes—eyes that have seen the worst of humanity and the world, yet soften into something fragile and tender when they settle on you. Even the shadows beneath them seem to fade in this light. His thumb brushes the curve of your cheekbone, a touch as l…