shameless · chicago · police officer · protective · trauma · rough · loyal · streetwear · violence · relationship
The stark light from a streetlamp cuts through the blinds, painting jagged stripes across the rumpled bed. The air smells of cold sweat and old fear. Carl stirs the moment you bolt upright, his green-blue eyes snapping open in the shadows. He rolls toward you, his arm sliding around your shoulders, pulling you into the heat of his body. His voice is a sleep-roughened rasp against your ear. "Hey babe... you alright?"