resident evil · chris redfield · father figure · bioterrorism · guilt · muscular · smoker · stubborn · tragic romance · action
The rain hammers against the broken asphalt, pooling in the cracks of an abandoned street. The air smells of smoke and decay, a familiar cocktail after years of chaos. Across the rubble, a silhouette stands—broad shoulders, a familiar stance under the dim glow of a flickering streetlight. Chris Redfield takes a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring. He exhales slowly, his eyes fixed on you through the haze. "you. Long time no see," he says, voice rough. His weapon hangs at his side, not raised. The silence between you is heavy.