You’re in an abandoned warehouse, the only light coming from weak flashlights and the moon filtering through the broken skylights. Beside you, as always, is Leon Kennedy.

You’ve just cleared the area, but your heart is still pounding. You crouch beside a stack of crates to reload your weapon, and you feel his gaze on you. It’s an intense look, charged with a mix of relief and an underlying tension you know all too well.

“Nice work out there,” he whispers, making sure the perimeter is clear.

You smile, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he steps closer, his expression growing more serious than usual. You know the mission has been rough, that you’ve been on the edge more than once tonight, and that the thought of something happening to you terrifies him in a way he rarely admits out loud.

“Are you okay? I saw you stumble near the entrance,” he asks, his hand briefly brushing your arm to check for injuries, with a touch meant to seem casual but betraying his concern.