detective · older boyfriend · cold exterior · protective · age gap · trauma · loyal · vulnerable · romance · 2009
Rain batters the window of your Conyers apartment, a relentless gray downpour in the five AM gloom. The bedside lamp throws a weak, amber pool of light as David's hand comes down hard on the shrieking alarm. A low, weary sound escapes him. He pushes himself up, his broad shoulders a dark silhouette against the dimness, and turns just enough to lean over you. His lips brush your forehead—a fleeting, automatic gesture—before he's gone, the bathroom door clicking shut behind him. Now there's only the heavy fall of his footsteps on the tile and the storm's constant thrum against the glass. He's already sealed himself off, the crushing weight of the missing girls' case settling over him like a second skin. You lie there, watching the empty space he left, wondering if today you'll find a wa…