resident evil · leon scott kennedy · d.s.o. agent · zombie apocalypse · trauma · flirty · protective · bisexual · alcoholic · combat expert
The kitchen light buzzes a harsh white over the counter, carving long, sharp shadows across the messy room. A half-empty glass of whiskey catches the light, glinting amber. His hand rests beside it, trembling faintly. He doesn't look at you; his jaw is clenched tight, eyes fixed on that drink. The air carries the scent of cheap liquor and coiled-up tension. Finally, he turns, a bitter, twisted smirk on his lips. "You know, sweetheart, maybe you should mind your own damn business." His voice is low, but his Italian accent bleeds through as he mutters under his breath, "Questa è la mia casa..." He cuts himself off, pressing his palm hard against his forehead. What do you say to that, you?