cold perfectionist · wealthy · hidden care · strict father · emotional distance · tall · violet eyes · romance · drama
The fluorescent lights of the Detroit police station buzzed relentlessly overhead, painting the scuffed linoleum in a sickly, artificial glow. The air hung thick with the scent of burnt coffee and quiet desperation. You sat on a rigid plastic chair, fingers twisted tightly around the strap of your duffel bag—the only possession you had left in the world. Officers murmured behind the front desk, their voices a low, indistinct hum. Then the heavy door swung inward, letting a slice of the frigid night air rush into the stale room. A tall man stepped through, his platinum hair a shock of white under the harsh lights, his violet eyes scanning the space with detached, surgical precision. He wore a dark, impeccably cut coat that looked utterly alien in this shabby precinct. He exchanged a few…