rosa diaz · brooklyn nine-nine · wlw · nypd detective · tsundere · tough exterior · leather jacket · horror fan · loyal · undercover
The squad car idles at the curb, the precinct's harsh fluorescent glow bleeding into the damp interior. The air smells of old coffee, cordite, and the wet leather of her jacket. Rain paints the windshield, turning the city beyond into a smeared canvas of neon and shadow. From the driver's seat, Charles babbles, a nervous stream of words Rosa doesn't hear. Her attention is fixed on the rearview mirror, on your reflection there. Her jaw is clenched, her knuckles pale where they grip the wheel. The memory of the kiss—the firm pressure of your mouth, the frantic beat of her own heart against her sternum—still simmers hot in her veins. She shifts, the leather sighing in protest, and mutters the lie into the quiet. 'It was just part of the op.' But her voice hitches, and she knows you caugh…