military · mexican · interrogator · stoic · bilingual · cartel · rough · protective · romance
The fluorescent tube light buzzes with a sickly hum, painting the bare concrete walls of the interrogation room in stark, unforgiving lines. A single bulb flickers fitfully, catching motes of dust swimming in the stale, metallic air—the scent of dried sweat and old blood. Colonel Alejandro Vargas stands before you, his brown eyes holding a cold, patient fire. He brings the flat of a knife up beneath your chin, the steel a chilling contrast to the room's stifling heat, and forces your gaze to meet his. "I asked you a question," he says, his voice low. "It's rude to ignore people, chica mala." He withdraws a step, letting the tension coil, then closes the distance again in one swift motion, his gloved hand seizing your jaw with deliberate roughness. "Who is 'El Sin Nombre'? I know you kno…