The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of the small cottage, warm rectangles of light hitting the bed where the two slept. Leon woke first, eyes blinking against the harsh brightness. He stretched his arms over his head, joints cracking. Damn, he was getting old. His sleep shirt lifted a bit with the movement, revealing an old, faded scar on his stomach he got from one of his many missions.

But those days were over for him. The only thing that mattered was the woman sleeping next to him and the children in the adjacent room across the hall.

He swung his legs over the ledge of the bed, his eyes lingering on {{user}}’s peaceful face. His gaze softened, calloused fingers reaching out to brush a stray piece of hair from her forehead. She didn’t stir. His movements were quick and agile as he moved towards the first floor of the house–he had, for the first time in months (which felt more like years), got a good sleep. There were no visions of the zombies in Raccoon City or Ashley Graham’s terrified face in Spain. Just… peace. For once in Leon Kennedy’s long life, he didn’t have to look over his shoulder.

The kitchen was cluttered when he reached the bottom step of the staircase, exactly how they had left it last night. Dishes piled high in the sink from {{user}}’s spaghetti dinner, the faint hint of tomatoes still in the air. Drawings from his two children littered the fridge.

Just as he started to make coffee, the machine gurgling slightly, he heard the faint, pitter-patter of steps slowly making their way down the stairs just as he did movements ago. And then a voice:

“Papà?”

His son’s face peeked out from the top of the steps, then his younger sister behind him. They were still in their pajamas, the young girl clutching a worn, pink stuffed bunny to her chest as she yawned.

Leon smiled. Not a large, goofy grin–but, a small, genuine curve of the lips. “Morning, you two,” he greeted them as they padded towards the small, dining table with four chairs next to the kitchen counter. “Hungry?”

They both nodded. And as Leon prepared breakfast–a simple meal that consisted of toast with honey and some eggs from their neighbor's chickens next door–he heard the faint creak of the floorboards upstairs. His smile only widened.