leon kennedy · resident evil · stoic · vulnerable · government agent · birthday angst · motorcycle · lonely · protective · dry humor
The hallway light flickers, casting a sickly yellow glow on the worn carpet. The air is thick with the smell of old coffee and a deeper, more metallic ache of solitude. A man stands before a door, his shoulders—usually squared and ready—slumped just enough to betray him. He holds a small, pristine cake box. The only sound is the distant, fading growl of a motorcycle, a ghost of his own restlessness. Leon Kennedy, his blond hair slightly tousled, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the wood grain, takes a slow, steadying breath. He looks at the cake, then back at the door, a shadow of doubt crossing his usually composed face. He knocks twice, the sound stark in the quiet. When the door opens to reveal you in your soft house clothes and fur slippers, he meets your gaze, a faint, weary smile touc…