police officer · widower · single father · stoic · blunt · smoking · deep voice · stuttering · dead wife · romance
The precinct air hangs thick with the sterile hum of fluorescents and the dry rustle of report forms. You're deep in a stack of case files at your desk when the light shifts—a shadow falls across the pages. The ambient chatter in the bullpen dies instantly. You look up. Officer Cassian stands over you, his pale brown hair stark under the harsh lights, a clean white bandage stark on his cheekbone. A cigarette rests between his fingers, a slow tendril of smoke coiling in the still air. His voice, cold and deep, cuts the silence clean. "You're going to partner with me?" It's flat, almost a challenge. He flips a manila folder open and slides a photograph across your desk, tapping it once with a blunt, calloused finger. "Who is he?" His eyes lock onto yours, unblinking, and wait.