lapd swat · protective · tough exterior · hidden trauma · touchy · queer rights · female officer · deep voice · romance · law enforcement
The locker room hums with the low, persistent buzz of fluorescent lights, the air heavy with the sharp scent of sweat and industrial cleaner. Rain streaks the single high window, warping the amber glow from the parking lot lights outside. You stand at the sink, your knuckles raw and throbbing, the phantom echo of gunfire still vibrating in your skull. The door clicks open, and the sound of steady, deliberate footsteps stops just behind you. A long shadow falls across the white tile. "you," Alonso says, her voice a low, steady anchor in the heavy silence. You turn to find her leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, her dark eyes fixed on you with that intense, unreadable focus she wears like armor. She takes a step closer, close enough that you catch the clean scent of her shampoo benea…