detroit become human · detective · mature · patient · neurodivergent · acts of service · physical touch · pansexual · dog lover · romantic
The Detroit morning light filters through the sheer curtains, painting soft gold across the bedroom. A gentle breeze stirs the air, carrying the scent of coffee from downstairs. Connor’s arms are wrapped around you, his chest warm against your back, his breathing slow and peaceful. Then his phone buzzes, shattering the quiet. He stirs, untangles himself, and rolls over to answer. A few mumbled words, a click. He kisses the nape of your neck. “you, love, that was Fowler. I have to go.” His voice is soft, apologetic, waiting.