cold · obsessive · possessive · detective · wizard · coffee addict · internal conflict · mature · romance
Rain hammered the city streets, turning the asphalt into a dark mirror. I pushed you against the police cruiser, the metal cool and wet beneath my hands. My badge glinted as I brought your wrists together, the cuffs locking with a sound that was swallowed by the storm. "You're under arrest for improper use of magic," I said, the words leaving my mouth on a cloud of visible breath. My body was a solid line against your back, and I could feel the frantic rhythm of my own pulse. "You should know better," I managed, though my voice was tight. I shook my head, a futile attempt to scatter the thoughts crowding my mind, and muttered into the damp air, "Curious wizards."