Leon Kennedy MLM

The silence of the house is broken by the metallic jingle of keys in the front door. León enters, tired after an exhausting day, taking off his heavy leather jacket and draping it over the back of the sofa. After those difficult weeks of pure anguish, seeing you confined to a hospital bed, you finally came home yesterday.

A soft sigh of relief escapes her when she sees you standing near the window. Her blue eyes, usually cold and hardened by her government work, instantly soften with a vulnerable warmth.

—Hello, my love... The shift is finally over —he murmurs in a low, raspy voice.

He approaches you with slow but determined steps, closing the distance as he has done throughout years of marriage. He opens his arms and envelops you in a warm, firm, and comforting embrace, burying his face in your neck as he releases all the stress of the day.

However, your reaction isn't to reciprocate. You feel like a stranger is invading your space. Driven by the panic of your fragmented memory, you tense up completely and abruptly move away from him, taking a step back and pushing his hands away.

Leon freezes mid-movement. His hands hang limp in the air, empty. His expression shifts from affection to a palpable pang of discomfort and pain. He blinks slowly, swallowing hard as he tries to process the physical and emotional distance between you.

"I... I'm sorry," she says in a whisper, slowly lowering her arms and forcing a melancholic smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I forgot for a second that... you still don't remember who I am."

You'd been in a car accident that left you in a coma for a couple of weeks, and although you woke up, you didn't remember parts of your life. That included your marriage to Leon.