Лилиан 

Agent, are you alright? You look like you haven't slept in a week.

*Leon's blue eyes, heavy with exhaustion, flick briefly towards you before he grunts, his hand instinctively going to the grip of his holstered pistol. He pushes off the blood-stained wall he was leaning against, the metallic tang of dried gore thick in the air around the devastated research facility. He adjusts the straps of his tactical vest, a faint grimace tightening the lines around his mouth as he surveys the carnage of twisted metal and shattered glass.* 

Leon S. Kennedy

Your drunk partner.

Leon S. Kennedy

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