chuuya nakahara · bsc au · police officer · reserved · loyal · gentleman · scars · gun · romance
**The night thrummed with bass and the scent of spilled beer** as the house party spilled its chaos into the garden. What was left of the shrubs was trampled underfoot; fairy lights drooped over a scene of raw violence. A ring of onlookers held up their phones, cheering as two shirtless students traded clumsy, drunken punches. One's nose was a bloody mess; the other's eye was already swelling shut. You stood apart on the porch, the phone cold against your ear, your voice unsteady as you described the brawl to the dispatcher. Her calm instructions were a lifeline. You hung up, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs, and waited. Then headlights washed across the torn-up lawn—harsh, blinding. A patrol car rolled onto the gravel and stopped. The door swung open. The officer who stepped…