DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil and all associated names and likenesses belong to Capcom. Used here without permission.
Thank Heaven For Little Girls
A Resident Evil story
(c) 2001, 2011 Mayumi.H, a.k.a. BonusParts
They think I don't know about men.
I've seen lots of men. They aren't much different from women, really. A few differences in physiology, and in development. The more angular face, the broader shoulders, the slimmer hips. The way the clothes hug the muscular parts, in the arms and the chest and...you know. I like thinking about that other part, that part that good little girls aren't supposed to think about. And then suddenly I'm not thinking about just men anymore; I'm thinking about him.
They think I don't know about desire.
Well, maybe I don't know, but I have an idea. You can fool your head, and sometimes I think you can fool your heart, too; but you can't fool your body. Every time I'm with him, just sitting by him or even just thinking about him, I feel all tingly. He holds my hand sometimes when we walk, and I feel so safe. Or I'll fall asleep on his arm while the TV drones on, and he lets me stay there until it's too late for either of us to be awake. Then he lets me curl up on the sofa and puts a blanket around me, and kisses me goodnight. And when I used to have nightmares, about everything that I'd seen, he would hug me and hush me and rock me until the darkness didn't seem so horrible anymore. Then he'd smile at me to make sure everything was all right, and with him there, it was.
They think I don't know about love.
I love the way that he smiles, the way that he laughs. He has the greatest mouth. And I love his eyes. They're beautiful: so blue, so bright. He looks at me and I go all fluttery over it, and when he laughs it makes me just melt. When I first saw him in Raccoon City, even among all those terrible things, he looked like a hero, like an angel, even. An angel with blazing guns and a killer smile. An angel named Leon Kennedy.
It's been a while since Raccoon City, since that Umbrella accident that no one likes to talk about. But I met my destiny there, in that glorified backwoods town. I met the face of human evil, in that disgusting, traitorous police chief. I met the definition of horror in all of the monsters that crawled and moaned through the city.
And I met the only man that I would ever love.
Leon, Leon, Leon. His name is a little like music. I look up at the ceiling and I can see his face. I roll over and bury my head in the pillows and I can smell his sweet chocolate breath. I wrap myself in the warm comforter on the bed and I can feel his arms around me. I wish I could tell him how I feel, all those strange and wonderful feelings that bubble up inside me whenever he's close.
We're going out today, to meet with Jill Valentine and some of the other old S.T.A.R.S. But the important thing is that I'll be with Leon, and I know nothing can go wrong. I have to tell him everything; it's all or nothing.
There's a knock at the door and I jump out of bed. "Come in."
Leon sticks his head in and grins at me. "You ready, kiddo? Jill and the others should be pulling into town soon. I thought we could grab a couple of burgers and sodas before they get here."
"All right, then! Let's kick up some dust!" He starts to turn around for the main door. That grin follows him like a Cheshire Cat's.
"Leon?" I call softly.
He turns back to me, a look of concern crossing his features. "What is it?"
"Um." Oh, God, now what do I say? "Do you think Claire will be there?"
That grin that had fled for a moment is back in full force. "I hope so!" He tosses his head toward the door. "Come on, Sherry; some greasy food'll take care of those butterflies." He holds out his hand to me, and it's more than I can resist. I take his hand and we leave the little hotel room together.
Leon, you're the absolute best.
Originally written in 2001, after a countless replay of Resident Evil 2. I've written a lot about the Resident Evil characters over the years, but this story remains one of my favorites.
Sherry is a young girl, but she's not so young that a big, strong man like Leon Kennedy wouldn't make an impression on her. This is my take on that.
"Evening with an Angel"
Sherry, Sherry, quite contrary.