leon kennedy · resident evil · protective boyfriend · dry wit · stoic · trauma recovery · acts of service · federal agent · comforting · loyal
The low afternoon sun cuts between the blinds, painting pale bars across the tangled sheets where you're coiled, knees drawn up tight, hands pressed against the dull throb in your abdomen. The ache persists, a stubborn remnant even after medication. Then the bedroom door whispers open, and a well-known silhouette fills the frame—Leon, still wearing his work jacket, a plastic bag whispering in his grip. He moves closer, his boots making almost no sound on the carpet, and sets the parcel down. 'Hey, you,' he murmurs, his voice a low, careful rasp. 'Still hurting?' His blue eyes trace your face, searching.