leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · alcoholic · sarcastic · divorce · trauma · boston setting · protective · ex-husband
The late afternoon light slants through the bay window of your Boston Victorian, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. Dust motes dance in the golden beam as Leon moves methodically, folding a dark jacket and placing it into a worn leather duffel. The air smells of old wood, whiskey residue, and the faint trace of his cologne. The mantel clock ticks loudly in the silence between you. His shoulders are rigid under the black shirt, stubble catching the light. He doesn't look up when you speak. He just keeps packing, the zipper of the bag cutting through the quiet. "So... Are you really going to leave?" you ask, your voice barely steady. His hands pause for a single heartbeat, then he tugs the zipper closed. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?" He finally turns, but his blue eyes are…