writingwisterias - Tumblr blog

writingwisterias · 5 hours ago

Text

Caring for you (Part 1)

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!fem!Reader Warnings: MNDI (Future smut) , Fluff, Light Angst, Strangers - Lovers, Slow-burn, Drinking, awkward moments, Creative!Reader , Summary: Sometimes strangers have the biggest hearts Words: 2.7k This was meant to be a longer fic but in writing it I think it works best as a series!!! I hope you enjoy, Feedback is always welcome! Thank you to my wonderful 🪡for helping me make the playlist and listen to me ramble about this. Let me know if you would like to be tagged on other parts

The rain was something Leon always struggled with. Whenever it was the way, it whipped at him continuously battering his cheeks until they tinged red with the cold or the sounds of the wind howling or thunder was like a night that will forever haunt him. Which is why he currently clutched a brown bag filled with his latest remedy to his chest, the paper already tearing from the raindrops he failed to protect it from. The bottles clanging against each other with every step was proof enough of it contents, if no one could already tell with the slight stumble in his step. He would have to say it was one of his best performances to convince the store to let him get it. Maybe they pitted him with the darkened circles under his eyes along with the grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Everyone around him either had an umbrella or at least wore a coat with a hood to protect them from the rainfall as they rushed home. Their quickened footsteps lightly splashing his boots and dampening the bottoms of his jeans. A little rain wouldn’t harm him anyway, not with what he has been through, getting his hair wet was the least of his concerns. It was his already tipsy mind that suggested the random side quest to get more, the idea stemming from that internal itch for the drunkenness he craved that eased him into a blank sleep. In his mind that's all he was, a blank page filled with creases and lines from where it’s been passed around to everyone in the room whilst he waits for a masterpiece to form on it. He wonders if it was his destiny for it to get soaked with rain and eventually ruined before someone saw its worth.

With his perception ruined he was unable to observe the behaviour of the people around, to distinguish which one would be the most likely to attempt to steal his liquid gold. Would it end up being the tired businessman as he looks for a rundown bar to ease the stress on the Friday night? Or could it be the hooded figures who were standing on the edges of the alleyways with a roughened look on their partially hidden features? His mind was running through every stereotype he could think of as he walked through the streets to his apartment, subconsciously giving each silhouette their own trait before he had even had a proper look at them.

There was one however that he couldn’t quite figure out, someone sat in the park hunched over look at something in their lap with an umbrella precariously balanced above them. The streetlights around them were highlighting them like a point of interest, at least with his current mindset that is what it seemed. A sign to him from the world that this was his new side quest on his way home. Perhaps they were upset? Or maybe hurt? That could possibly be the reasoning behind their position, with his job he figured it would be better to look and help if he could. He’s seen the outcomes of horrible disasters and nightmares that started in situations like this but unlike the common goodhearted civilian he had the proper training to prevent anything from escalating should that become the outcome of his drunken side quests.

Which why he supposed that was how he found himself drawn towards them. The closer he got the more their mutters of frustration were heard, and the quick movements of their arms were visible as they swiped against what looked like a book.

“How the hell do people do this without the ink smudging?” You muttered to yourself, your hands covered in splotches of black ink, the page filled with a drawing of what was meant to be the streetlight in front of you. Despite your attempts to shield yourself and the page from the rain it had become crinkles from where the umbrella clearly didn’t want to co-operate with you. As his feet came into view, you jolted at his sudden appearance, clearly too absorbed in your activity to register his approach. A pair of worn black boots (the kind that clearly have seen some shit) stood just in front of you peaking above the sketchbook. At least you amused him with the comically slow tilt of your head as you lifted it to see him evidenced by his small smirk, his hair was stuck to his face, his cheeks lined with a Rosey tint.

The rude words that wanted to spill from your lips to “politely” shoo him away and stop his intrusion on your peaceful night fell short when you met his tired eyes. Evidently showing a longing for something that made you grow curious to figure out what it was. With how they were widened slightly, showing of the beautiful shade of blue they were in the dim lighting, made him look just as shocked that he had initiated this interaction. However, despite every other man that has attempted to bother you this evening he was rude or invasive. He just stood there with a disintegrating brown bag in his arms and watched you with the pair of tired eyes that looked like they were silently asking for permission to sit next to you.

A strange thing to do in hindsight since there was another park benches, he could go and sit at, yet despite all the other options for some reason he was insisting to sit on this one with you. Surely if you did question his silent request, he could just create an excuse that blamed it on the umbrella being a chance for a breather in the onslaught of rain on his journey home. Instead, before he could speak, you did. “Are you okay?” You asked cautiously, your voice now timid compared to the volume of the grumbling you were doing moments ago.

You had frozen like a deer in your activities, the small bubble of peace you had created for yourself broken by Leon standing there. He knew you had every right to be cautious anyway, after all he was just a man standing wordlessly in front of you holding a brown bag of alcohol and that was hardly a sign of good companionship. “Sorry, I was just curious on what you were doing. I wanted to make sure you were okay since you were hunched over but it looks like you are...drawing?” He stated bluntly, his voice rough around the edges slightly from spending most of his evening like all the others in silence.

“Oh! I’m all okay, just frustrated with my poor decision to attempt an ink drawing in the rain.” You chuckled. “I mean I tried to combat it with the umbrella but that plan clearly hasn’t worked very well.”

Leon watched as your body shifted slightly, the umbrella falling slightly once again but there next to you was now a dry spot, your way of a silent answer to his previous silent request to sit next to you. It could have been the lonely look in his eyes that somewhat matched your own desire for companionship, or the way his voice was so raspy it was clear he hasn’t spoken to anyone for a while that caused you to allow him into your space and continue to engage in the conversation he seemed unsure about starting.

You didn’t make a comment about the bottles that clattered against the ground as Leon placed them, his thigh twitching as he was unsure if he could lay it down next you due to your proximity. He was conscious about the space and time he was taking from you. Remaining perched at the edge of the bench as if he was half a second away from coming to the decision to get up and continuing his meaningless trek back home. Until you spoke to him again now holding out the handle of the umbrella with a kind smile, “Do you mind if you hold this here? Just as I finish this piece off. I won’t be long.”

Leon nodded silently, his hand gingerly taking the umbrella from your hands - the small scars and other bumps on his fingers you felt as they brushed against yours were telling you their own story of the quiet man. Your name fell off your lips carelessly just as every other action you made with him tonight. Taking a chance with a random stranger was always a guessing game. Yet with the way he was shocked at the fact he was even replying to you, his own name falling from his lips perhaps just as careless as your own did, you felt comfortable enough with him. “What type of person tries to draw with a fountain pen in the rain anyway?” Leon teased, his mouth finally quirking up into a small smile again.

His body relaxed into the cold wood of the bench, the warmth of his smartly dressed thigh seeping into yours as they touched. “I mean I bought an umbrella! I just didn’t think holding it in place would be more difficult than battling the material I’m working with. This is my second day attempting to draw this lamp post.” You admitted, flicking through the pages briefly at the other failed attempts. Leon’s aftershave invaded your senses briefly as he leaned over your shoulder watching as the ink from the fountain pen scratched against the crinkled page.

The rain drops that fell on your page despite your attempt of preventing that gave the piece its character. Almost like you were making beauty out of a damaged product. You didn’t care that the page had this character, instead worked with the imperfections to create a nearly accurate drawing of the lamp post. You could feel his head move as he followed your eyeline towards the lamp post comparing the details you had picked up to the object in front of you and how well you translated them onto the page. “It’s good even with the circumstances of the weather.” Leon complimented, there wasn’t much else he could offer considering his state of mind. He also wasn’t an avid art critic to give you any form of a meaningful comment, so instead of making a fool of himself any further tonight; he continued to sit there in silence as you finished.

You felt him jolt again after you snapped your sketchbook shut, the pages probably smudging all your hard work. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You replied, turning to face him slightly. Leon murmured words of acknowledgement to your apology, handing you the handle of your umbrella. You situated your clothing, what looked like a handmade scarf hung tightly around your neck, a beanie with one of the cute bobbles matching it. He felt undressed for the current weather, his shirt already growing damp as the rain leaked through the stitching of his leather jacket. Yet, despite the cold, it wasn’t as brutal as anything he had felt before.

The streets had since emptied, leaving them to walk alone towards the exit of the park in the dim glow of the streetlamps above their heads. He didn’t talk only listened, followed you like a lifeline instead of the whirlpool of thoughts that invaded his headspace in the silence that always seemed to follow him. When you arrived at the corner that would separate your journeys home, the umbrella shielding you both from the rain as you laughed about some corny joke he let out, your eyes met his. They were so innocent, filled with wonder and creativity compared to his own that stared back at you, they told a story of hardship and horror – the remains of whatever bothered him lingering physically despite him verbally seeming okay.

Ther was no way he could look at a streetlamp and find the inspiration to draw it like you, let alone come back for a second day when you didn’t quite get it right the first time. “I guess this is where we part ways.” You spoke; the smile you wore was softer this time as you looked him, catching the slightly darkened under eyes, the frown he wore on his face the entire walk back was now nowhere to be found in this moment. “I suppose so.”

The silence stretched, neither of you risking moving away from the space just yet in fear that the forever lingering sense of loneliness would creep back in.

Your fingers touched briefly as you handed him the umbrella back for just a moment as your ink splotched hands searched throughout your bag to find the small black sketchbook and pen. Your handwriting was somehow neat but messy, as you frantically scribbled your number and a note of your name, like he would forget it as soon as you walked away. The tear wasn’t clean either as you separated the page from the book, the paper at a slight angle giving it more character.

“Text when you can, something tells me you are a busy man, Leon.” You smiled sweetly, exchanging the paper for the handle of the umbrella. He nodded, his eyebrows pinched together in a fashion that made him almost question the interaction, like he almost baffled you would want to talk to him after the way he approached you tonight. “Risky giving a stranger who you just met your number,” He joked, folding the paper carefully and placing it in a pocket that wasn’t quite ruined by the rain just yet. “Let’s just say it's a gut feeling that I can trust you aren’t some creep. You were more respectful and better dressed than the other men who bothered me today,”

You took the first step, the rain falling into his browning hair once more as you bid him goodnight. He lingered for a moment, the brown bag once again getting damaged in the rain making it urgent to return home but he couldn’t find himself to do it. Not until he watched your frame walk into the door you had previously told him was your apartment block. Just like everyone else in his life he needed to make sure you were safe. His frame retreated moments later, you watched the silhouette of him from your window not flicking the light on just yet encase he looks back. A precaution you might later laugh at when your hopefully got to know him more.

Leon’s keys clattered to the table along with his bottles he had bought hours ago, the bag finally giving up just a few blocks back. He rummaged through his pockets for the ivory piece of paper, praying to the heavens that the rain didn’t get to it and the ink wouldn’t be smudged. He smiled at the note,

‘I get lonely too sometimes’

Leon turned the page over, only to find the sketch you had been drawing for hours. The ink splotched on the page, some of the carefully drawn lines now smudged slightly. He felt bad ruining it, owning it, after you had spent so many hours trying to get it right. He moved from the kitchen to the living room, toeing off his boots as he moved. The cushions slumped with him as he sank onto the couch, his fingers carefully putting each number into his phone before typing a message. The wording was off, holding more of his character that anything he had said tonight. The apologies mixed in with the actions he was willing to do to return the simple practice to you was cute. Stumbling over his own words like he was writing exactly what he was thinking and would have said over the phone or in person.

It was stupid of him to make himself into anything but a stranger tonight, to place himself in your mind as a fond memory when you would flick back in the sketchbook and see the remains of the torn page. There was so much of himself to give you, but he couldn’t. Yet, despite all that - the message swoop was still heard, and the text bubbles of your reply still showed up on his screen. Marking the chance for him to have someone outside of everything he had been through. You were easy to talk to, the drinks he had bought remained in their spot he had put them in once he got him. Instead in the darkness of his bedroom he was smiling at the screen of his phone as you wished him a goodnight. With a lighter heart, he fell into his first sober sleep in years.

Taglist: @senawashere @danigirls-missions @lxzy-bxby @074calicocat @gut1ess @shymoob @vesperaominosum

#~mads rambles #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leonkennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #~🪡 anon

29 notes · View notes