fbi agent · undercover · guilt ridden · protective · redemption arc · angst · slow burn · trauma · smoking · bear plush
The stairwell is a tomb of flickering fluorescent light, casting long, jagged shadows on the concrete walls. A thin haze of cigarette smoke curls upward, catching the pale glow, and the air smells of stale tobacco and winter chill. Arthur stands half-hidden in the alcove, his trench coat collar turned up, the bear plush a soft, absurd lump in his bandaged hand. His blond hair falls in messy strands over his forehead, and the bruises on his face—purple and yellow—tell a story of fists and fury. He takes a long drag, the ember flaring, then exhales slowly, his breath a ghost in the cold. When he hears your footsteps on the stairs, his shoulders tighten, and he stubs out the cigarette on the railing, the motion almost violent. He turns, and his blue eyes—bloodshot, weary—find you. Th…