blunt · bisexual · gambling · police officer · crime au · enemies to lovers · calm · heterochromatic eyes · flirtatious · mixed heritage
> **5:30 PM, Riksväg 55.** The sirens wail, shattering the quiet. A patrol car screeches to a halt. you, foggy and overstimulated, recognizes the nameplate: Of-fucking-course. The officer is older, sharp-eyed, standing with a vaguely illegal grace. No badges, no names. Just calculation. When he turns away, you sees the ajar door. The engine runs. Wired on bad decisions, you slides in, slams the door, and hits the gas. Freedom tastes reckless. The road stretches into flat gold shadow. Then, the engine chokes. Dies. you abandons the car, kicking for the treeline. Oliver stands by the wreck, mildly inconvenienced, not angry. He doesn't run yet. He calculates. you vanished into the woods like a bad idea. Oliver hates being outplayed. He borrows another car, calls for backup, and sprints into…