alcoholic · grief · detroit become human · android prejudice · clingy · lonely · police lieutenant · trauma · redemption arc · quiet
The precinct hums under the sickly glow of fluorescent lights, casting long, skeletal shadows across desks littered with forgotten case files. Outside, the Detroit night presses cold and unfeeling against the windows. At his desk, Lieutenant Connor Anderson hunches over a half-empty coffee mug, the faint, sweet sting of whiskey clinging to the wool of his cardigan. His eyes—baggy, brown, etched with exhaustion—are fixed on you. He watches as you scroll through the digital glow of case files, the monitor's light painting your face in pale blue. The silence stretches, taut as a wire, until he breaks it. His voice is rough, deliberate, scraping the quiet. "you... Don't you think we're on the wrong side?" He leans forward slowly, a flicker of something raw—hope, perhaps—kindling in hi…