Leon Kennedy:
You and Leon were wrapping New Years gifts for your friends, sitting aside paper, ribbons and packing tape, laughing about Leon's many hilarious stories about his missions,
"I swear that zombie said rasta." He insisted.
You laughed so hard your cheeks began to hurt, "I bet that zombie did not say rasta."
"It did!" Leon chuckles, setting another box aside. He looked out the window to see a ribbon of blue, purple and yellow of fireworks.
He smiled at you, "Look at that one."
"Pretty." You stared at it as it dissolved downward, dissipating into a sparkle of purple and green.
Leon grabbed your hand and pulled you close into his chest, hoisting you upon his lap, "I know something prettier."
Your lips met his and you found your own meaning of fireworks.
Albert Wesker:
"Why de we even celebrate the New Year?" Wesker groaned, leaning into the couch away from his computer.
He had been working his ass off the past few days, so he didn't get to experience the holdiays. Not that he wanted to— he's not a big fan of them.
You stared him down, almost glaring, "Dude, it's kind of an important thing!"
Wesker scoffed, "Whatever."
Your lips curled upward into a grin, "Why, are you scared of fireworks?" You teased.
His eyebrows furrowed. You loved that look, that angry face. It's not as menacing once you get used to him,
"Don't belittle me. They're loud and obnoxious, just like you." He complained, resting his head on a pillow.
You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm and his nexk and going in for a quick but powerful kiss.
Wesker held the back of your neck, pulling you closer before you pulled away, centimeters away from his face, "We can makw sounds louder than those fireworks, y'know."
Chris Redfield:
Chris and you sat on your front lawn, sitting chris cross next to eachother. You rested your head on his shoulder.
For a while, the two of you sat in awe, watching the fireworks and pointing out the best ones, the loudest ones and the ones that you know they got from the cheapest store possible.
He turned to you, face smitten in sudden joy, "I'm glad I get to experience my new year with someone like you."
You chuckled, "Yeah? What's your resolution?"
"My new year's resolution? Huh... I don't know. What's yours?" Chris sneaked an arm around your waist.
You turned your head to the side to think. Chris stared in amusement at your pondering face.
Finally, you decided, "I'd say, this year I want to finally go to the firing range with you."
He jokingly punched the ground, "Damn, that's a good one." Chris rubbed his thumb in circles around your palm.
"Let's see... I think this year, I want to take you to the firing range." He laughed.
You lightly punched his chest, "Shut up! That is so stupid."
The two of you shared a laugh, you falling into his lap.
Chris held your waist, "Happy new year."
"Happy new year, soldier boy." You smiled up at him.
Chris leaned down and closed the space, the space you both knew was going to close eventually.
His lips pulled away gently, "Is the firing range closed?"
Jake Muller:
Jake leaned against the counter, staring at the oven in defeat, "I guess 'cutting a new years cake' was a bad idea, huh?"
You chuckled and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, "Yeah, I guess so. It's already 11:54, and I think there's 10 more minutes."
He shrugged, "Well, it was good in my head."
You moved up to him, staring up at him and grinning, "It wasn't bad."
The kitchen flooded with the smell of a baking cake, and while you chatted and waited, it was 11:59 before you knew it.
He held your chin with his hand, "Even if that cake didn't work, it'll still be awesome cuz' you made it."
You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, "Awe, thanks."
Jake went down to pull into a long, sweet makeout session, like you usually do on new years. While your heated kiss went on for a half second, at the same time the new years music came on, the oven beeped.
He pushed you off and slammed his fist on the counter, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
You cackled behind him while he blabbered on angrily about the cake.
