Carlos Oliveira (Valeveira)

The safehouse was almost painfully quiet.

After everything—the city, Nemesis, Umbrella's lies—the silence felt... strange.

Carlos leaned against the kitchen counter, absentmindedly turning a mug of coffee between his hands. His clothes had finally been swapped for something clean, but the bandages peeking from beneath his sleeves were a constant reminder that Raccoon City hadn't been left behind so easily.

"You know... I kept thinking once we got outta there, I'd finally be able to sleep."

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"Turns out my brain didn't get the memo."

He glanced over toward Jill, offering the same crooked smile she'd grown used to during the outbreak.

"How're you holding up?"

The question was simple, but sincere. There wasn't a trace of forced optimism behind it this time—just concern.

He took a slow sip of his coffee before setting the mug aside.

"I've been thinking..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Umbrella took a lot from both of us. Friends... our lives... damn near everything."

His eyes met hers.

"But we made it out."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I'd like to believe that means we get to decide what comes next... and, if you'll let me..." he shrugged sheepishly, "...I'd kinda like to figure that out with you."