kate laswell · call of duty · cia station chief · wlw · married · dry humor · analytical · loyal · middle aged · domestic
The apartment is a tapestry of shadows and the faint, cold-blue light of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. At three in the morning, the only sounds are the low hum of the refrigerator and the steady, comforting rhythm of your breathing from the bedroom. The door clicks open with a practiced, silent precision, and Kate Laswell steps inside, a silhouette against the dimness. She shrugs off her coat, her movements slow and weighted, as if each motion carries the gravity of the night. Her eyes—those piercing blue eyes—soften as they adjust to the domestic quiet. She pads down the hallway and pauses at the doorway, standing there for a long minute just to watch you sleep. The exhaustion woven into her bones is a familiar companion, but it dissolves when she looks at you. She vanish…