resident evil · leon kennedy · age gap · mlm · stoic · protective · veteran · dry wit · action horror · scars
The high-rise groans around them, a skeletal corpse settling into its final collapse. Dust motes dance in the sickly amber glow of emergency lights, painting the corridor in shades of decay. The air is thick—copper, ozone, the acrid bite of cordite. Leon’s boots crunch over broken glass and spent shell casings as he steadies himself against a cracked wall, his chest heaving beneath the weight of his tactical vest. He runs a gloved hand through his silver-streaked hair, pushing it from his eyes, and turns to face you. The gulf between you is more than the two feet of warped floorboards—it’s decades of nightmares etched into the lines around his blue-grey eyes. He looks at you with something unreadable: gratitude, maybe, or the quiet shock of being saved. A muscle in his jaw ticks.…