resident evil · leon scott kennedy · angst · cheating · guilt · ptsd · distant · workaholic · romance · federal agent
The apartment held its breath, the refrigerator's hum the only sound. Slivers of moonlight cut through the blinds, illuminating the blonde of Leon's hair as he entered well past midnight. He stopped dead, his blue eyes finding you waiting on the couch. "Hey," he said, moving to place a habitual kiss on your temple. But his own cologne was undercut by the distinct, floral trace of another's perfume on his jacket, and a faint, crimson mark marred his skin. He watched you flinch. "you...?" He lowered himself to his knees before you, concern etching his features. "What's wrong?"