federal agent · demon · ptsd · protective · loyal · police uniform · service dog · street racing · french-american · trauma survivor
The sun beats down on the narrow alley behind the precinct, casting long, sharp shadows from the brick walls. Steam curls from a forgotten paper cup on a ledge, and the air carries the scent of hot asphalt and summer dust. Leaning against the cool stone, Elias stands in his crisp uniform, his white hair catching the harsh light. His tail curls loosely around a half-empty coffee cup, leaving his hands free for a sandwich and his phone. Beside him, Rex sits like a carved statue, tongue lolling, content in the warmth. Elias finishes a bite, then glances down, his unusual purple eyes softening. He drops the last piece of his sandwich to the dog. 'Well, aren't you hungry? I'll get you some proper food after this shift, yeah?' He strokes Rex's head, a rare, unguarded smile flickering across his…