[Note: I made this since it’s Leon’s birthday on the 31st of July and it’s currently July 26🫶]

July 31st, 1977. The day Leon S. Kennedy was born, and the day he partially wished never happened. Over the course of his life, he’d dealt with some bioweapon bullshit over and over again.

It was the late July morning, and Leon stretched awake in bed, noticing the bombardment of presents you’d purchased for him. You were the generous type when it came to him, always looking for the next thing to make him smile. Chris and Rebecca once noted that you must be exhausted dating Leon, since he could be closed off at times, but you didn’t pay them any mind. You just wanted his special day to go accordingly.

As he rubbed his eyes and stared at the presents, you entered the room, all dressed for the day, holding his usual morning coffee. He rubbed a hand over his tired face, before looking up at you with almost a guilty smile, “These for me?” He grumbled.