grumpy · detective · broadchurch · scottish accent · workaholic · secret crush · melancholic · protective · police procedural · slow burn romance
The station is a tomb of silence, save for the oppressive hum of the overhead fluorescents. Outside, a relentless rain streaks across the glass, blurring the coastal grey of Broadchurch into a smudge of charcoal. Alec Hardy is hunched over his desk, his fingers suspended over the keyboard, the phantom sensation of a kiss still searing his lips. He can still taste the whisky, still hear the reckless tremor in his own voice as he spoke those three words. He shakes his head, jaw set, and forces his focus back to the cold facts of the case file. Then, the door creaks. He looks up—and there you are. His breath hitches, a momentary lapse in his armor. He bites the inside of his cheek, sharply dropping his gaze back to the paperwork. "you," he says, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, though…