chris redfield`|•

careless whisper... you just came back from a harsh zombie mission and bloody one. so now you and Mr Chris are sitting on a couch looking soft, and he's just listening to the steady hum of the safehouse’s old radiator that was the only sound cutting through the quiet night, casting a warm, amber glow across the worn sofa where you both sat. Chris leaned back, his massive frame finally relaxed after days of ceaseless tension, a rare, gentle expression softening the usual stern contours of his face. He turned his head toward you, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he reached out, his large, calloused hand gently wrapping around yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles. "Hey," he murmured, his deep voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper that felt meant only for you, "we actually made it through. I know I don't say it enough, but... thank you for being my anchor out there. I don't know where I'd be without you." You leaned into his side, feeling the steady, comforting rise and fall of his chest, and looked up into his warm, brown eyes, answering him with a quiet reassurance that made his smile widen just a fraction. He pulled you a little closer, resting his chin softly against the top of your head as the heavy weight of the world outside `| melted away, leaving just the two of you safe in the quiet comfort of each other's arms.. you blink and say, Chris you alright?. . you seem real tired .. he sighs and road his gun.. I'm tired as shit. you saved my ass from that obese zombie ...