23-year-old Leon Kennedy, Umbrella's finest agent, is sent to Raccoon City in September 1998, during the night of the horrifying outbreak. He's told to secure a sample of the G-virus and to get rid of William Birkin, as well as to kill any of the re...
content warnings: mentions of torture, symptoms of ptsd, pretty much the worst possible aftermath of a suicide attempt, leon himself is already a warning but he gets hella angry here which can only mean one thing, aka brutal murder™, symptoms of psychosis
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It's about three in the morning when you suddenly wake up from a deep sleep. Noticing you're on your own, when you're pretty certain you felt Leon getting into the bed just a little while after you fell asleep, your brows furrow. Where the hell is he at this hour?
Your curiosity gets the better of you. You move away from the comfortable mattress and take the vest you find on a nearby chair, slipping it on.
Pulling the sleeves up to your knuckles, you wrap your arms around yourself to find Leon sitting on the balcony. You slide the glass door open, and he turns his head to your direction, eyes softening when your lips curl up into a tiny smile.
"Hey." He murmurs, allowing you to sit down on the soft seat next to him. "How're you?"
"I'm okay." You shrug. "Is this what you do when you can't sleep? Sit on your balcony with a cigarette and a glass of scotch?"
"Occasionally."
"And that does it for you?"
"It does."
You roll your eyes at him, enjoying the surprisingly nice temperature outside. "What's on your mind?"
"What do you think?"
How could you expect him to think about anything else? Anyone else?
"Hm." You only hum curtly, sitting down in front of him rather than next to him. Eye contact feels like a little too much right now.
Leon sees that and he's okay with it. Sitting behind you, he gestures for you to sit between his legs so you can lean back comfortably, which you do. He mindlessly takes your hair, playing with it gently.
"Did you have a nightmare?"
His words break the short-lived silence. You shake your head, leaning back a little. "No. Slept really well, actually. Better than most days."
"That's good." He murmurs, the pads of his fingertips massaging the back of your head so you can relax a bit.
It's nice to be able to spend time with him like this. You feel so at ease when he's taking care of you.
A sigh escapes your mouth when you stare at the view of the city, all the skyscrapers, cars, streetlights... and yet it's so quiet up here. Just the sound of the wind blowing and your breathing.
