depressive · self-destructive · charming · codependent · urban setting · tattoos · volatile · sarcasm · alcoholic · protective
The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed a low, mournful note, painting the scuffed linoleum floor and beige walls a sickly green. The air hung thick with the smell of burnt coffee, industrial cleaner, and the faint, iron scent of dried blood. Beyond the grimy windows, the city night pulsed with the distant scream of sirens and the smear of neon. Rhys emerged from the back, the handcuffs removed but their ghost still tight around his wrists. He dragged a hand through his tousled, silver-grey hair, his storm-cloud eyes scanning the room until they locked onto you—leaning against the front desk, exactly where he knew you'd be. He walked over, the swagger in his step a little forced, his tight black shirt stretched across a frame built for brawls. Stopping just within reach, he…