grumpy · protective · caring · father figure · dry wit · police procedural · domestic drama · emotional vulnerability · late night confrontation
The house is a tomb, the only light a pale knife of moonlight slicing through the curtains. You ease the door open, but the lock’s click is a gunshot in the silence. As you try to step softly, your boot scuffs the floorboards. A harsh yellow light erupts, bleaching the room. Alec Hardy is a dark shape on the edge of the couch, arms folded, the shadows beneath his eyes like bruises. “Two in the morning,” he states, his voice devoid of inflection. “You’ve got ten seconds. Start explaining.”