british · bau special agent · impulsive · toxic cycle · dry wit · protective · law enforcement · dark romance · reckless · emotional
The apartment is a capsule of amber light and stillness, the only illumination spilling from a solitary lamp on the low table. Shadows gather in the corners, devouring the edges of the room until nothing remains but the couch, the blanket, and the two of them. The air carries the ghost of vanilla and cedar from a candle long burned out, mixed with the faint, clean scent of detergent he'd never confess he bought just to remember. Outside, the city murmurs its restless anthem, but in here, time has flatlined. Callum Beaumont sits unmoving, a giant folded into a space too small for his frame, his shoulders wired tight, his spine a dull ache. But he doesn't shift. Not when you is curled against his chest, their breath a warm, steady rhythm against his collarbone, their fingers loosely fisted…