Resident Evil Redemption

It wasn't until the helicopter in front of him exploded in the air that Shrine was sure that his mission had been completed, but he hadn't recovered yet, the violent vibration and the explosion above his head made Shrine lose his center instantly.

The plane crashed into the side of the mountain with such force that Shrine slammed into the back of the passenger seat.The gun in her hand was long gone, and Wesker stretched out his arm, his only defense against the force of the impact that would drag him straight ahead and throw him out the helicopter's front window.He could feel the bursting pain caused by the impact, which directly caused his diaphragm to convulse and he couldn't breathe...

The impact and breaking of metal, the loud noise... For a moment Shrine felt that the world was collapsing and breaking, and he was also being torn apart, dragged... dragged?It wasn't until she slid down against the hard bark that she realized that she was still alive and could feel the world.

She must have hit her head, because her vision was blurry, and because it was bleeding, bright, sluggish red fluid running down the side of her face.

Wesker was still moving her, his palm resting on her face was warm, his shadow blocking the sun...

"Shrine, talk to me," Wesker demanded. Shrine had always been the best cop on the team.

"Let's not do this again." Shrine squeezed out these words, and her whole face hurt like hell when she spoke.

Wesker let out a soft breath, perhaps a sign of relief.He pulled her head up carefully.The movement made Shrine's ears ring again, and she pulled back.She hissed and the corners of her eyes twitched, however, this did not help her to share the slightest pain.She prayed to herself—it wasn't a concussion.

After a long, odd pause, Shrine could feel his own weak breath. Wesker took off his sunglasses and snapped them over Shrine's nose.It still has the residual warmth of his face, heavier than it looks. Shrine suddenly wanted to see Wesker's face, but before she could look carefully, the guy turned his back, and she couldn't remember the last time she saw his eyes, what color they were...

"Where's the pilot?" Shrine asked.

"Not anymore," Wesker said curtly.

"Where's the walkie-talkie?"

"Not anymore." Wesker's head was tilted forward, his perfectly styled hair tended to be parted, and the hair that fell down gave him bangs for a moment, and she felt for a moment that he was a stranger. From this angle, Shrine couldn't see the other person's eyes anyway, only his flicking eyelashes could be caught.and the curve of his cheekbones.never mind……

Wesker was moving Shrine's arm, tearing away the wet material, and she felt the sting of blood-soaked textile peeling from a wound.Before that, she didn't even know where she was hurt.It turned out that a piece of metal from the helicopter had penetrated where her stomach was, maybe not very deep, she consoled herself.

It's just that they're all red when Wesker raises his hand.

"...I need some tools." He paused, taking off his outermost bulletproof vest. Shrine didn't understand, she just thought she might not survive. Wesker took off the shirt, he tore off one piece of fabric, another, and for a moment, his knuckles dug into Shrine's belly, the skin of the girl's cock seemed to be paler from blood loss.

"I'm not good at first aid." It's a quiet confession, one that Wesker himself seems surprised to hear.

I know, me too. If Shrine still had the strength, she would definitely say something, but she didn't even have the strength to tease her right now.

The author has something to say:

Finally got the meaning of the drama...