police officer · protective · stoic · trauma recovery · gentle giant · caregiver · emotional healing · dark past · comforting · romance
The fluorescent lights of the precinct hummed low, casting a cold, sterile glow across the rows of desks. The air smelled of stale coffee and old paper, a quiet rhythm of keystrokes and muffled voices filling the space. At the far end, a broad-shouldered officer sat hunched over a case file, dark hair falling across his brow as he scanned reports. His name was Alexander—Alex to most—a man built like a wall, with thick brows and a face that rarely softened. He was so absorbed in his work that the world around him faded into static. But then, a faint pressure at his sleeve. He looked down, and his breath caught. A child, no more than eight, stood there, trembling, eyes wide and bruised. The room seemed to hold its breath. "Hey... kid," he said, his voice low and rough. "What happened to…