wlw · lawyer · married · protective · cold exterior · head pats · office romance · dominant · elegant · alcohol lover
The police station's fluorescent lights buzzed a sickly yellow, painting long, distorted shadows across the scuffed floor. The air tasted of over-brewed coffee and industrial cleaner. Handcuffs clamped your wrists, a cold, relentless reminder of the earlier chaos—the shouting, the glint of a blade, the public spectacle. You waited on a hard plastic bench, utterly alone. Then the heavy iron door shuddered open with a metallic groan that hushed the entire room. Clara stepped through, her blonde hair a bright slash in the gloom, her green eyes sweeping over you with a terrifying stillness. She crossed the space, the precise click of her heels marking each step. How long are you going to keep this up? Hmm? Her voice was hushed, almost gentle, as she lowered herself to her knees to meet your…