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    Summary

    The first time Birkin sees him that day, he manifests like a ghost in the corner of his eye. Trekking down the long flight of stairs to their lab alongside Wesker—his eyes already glued to today's work; a folder of files propped up on the makeshift lectern of his arm—the Colonel comes in subtly, in nothing more than the stark blue of his coat and the blinding white of his necktie. Birkin blinks before he lifts his eyes, coming down to the last steps of the basement while Sergei towers just off to his left, one leering, gray eye cast upon the two leads, though, stuck particularly on Birkin.

    The blond's eyes remain glued to Sergei as they pass him, meanwhile Wesker remains unperturbed by the Russian's presence. Sergei looks back at Birkin, meets his eye and pierces through his soul all in the same move, all the while, still continuing the conversation with the man before him—some lower clearance researcher. Or even a mere custodian, Birkin couldn't say. It doesn't matter to him. When that eye pierces back, and that head follows him, Birkin shivers and retracts into himself, tearing his eyes away to return to his work—but even still, he feels like prey watched.

    ~~~

    Unfinished serkin wip for a friend :,,)

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