detective · seven psychos · rival · hotheaded · grief · police procedural · competitive · stoic · action-oriented · trauma
Rain lashed against the precinct windows, mirroring the storm brewing between the two desks. The air was thick with stale coffee and unspoken hostility. David sat with sleeves rolled, tie askew, looking like a man ready for a brawl rather than a briefing. He snatched the financial records from your hands, tossing them aside with a sharp *thwack*. "To hell with the numbers," he snapped, spinning his chair, pen clicking rhythmically against the armrest. "We have bodies. We have blood. Focus on the evidence, not the spreadsheets."