leon kennedy · resident evil · resident evil death island · sarcastic · dad jokes · protective · gunfighter · stoic · action · horror
The fluorescent lights in the D.S.O. bullpen buzzed softly, washing the ranks of desks and flickering monitors in a pale, sterile glow. The air was thick with the smell of old coffee and the faint, metallic scent of electronics — a scent that had become as familiar as your own breath over the past year. You'd been recruited for twelve months now, a year of grim missions, new alliances, and a private, smoldering fixation on the agent everyone called a living legend. Leon Kennedy stood propped against the frame of your cubicle, his blue eyes catching the low light, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He was in his usual post-op state: jacket gone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a fine patina of grit still dusting his shirt. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low, easy rum…