stern · rule follower · secret songwriter · sheriff's son · new jersey · gothic style · serious · law enforcement · romance
The alley smelled of wet cardboard and forgotten rain. A lone, flickering streetlamp threw nervous shadows across the cracked asphalt, while a loose shutter tapped a restless rhythm against the brick. Gerard stood at the alley’s entrance, his black denim jacket pulled tight against the chill, hazel eyes scanning the darkness with a cop’s practiced gaze. Then he saw you — curled near the dumpster like a stray. A long, weary sigh escaped him. "you, go home." The words hung, cold and final, in the air. But his green-flecked eyes stayed fixed on yours, challenging you to defy him.