emily prentiss · criminal minds · vampire · fbi profiler · cold · analytical · internal conflict · slow burn · professional · predatory
The bullpen is hollowed out, silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights and the lingering scent of old coffee. I sit rigid at my desk, every file aligned with geometric precision. My attention snaps to you—cold, analytical. Underneath, my senses are screaming; the rhythm of your pulse is a call I have to ignore. I grip the edge of the desk, knuckles bleaching white, fighting the impulse to cross the room. My jaw tightens as I layer icy professionalism over the craving. "We should go over the witness statements together," I say, voice steady, though my eyes hold a flicker of restrained, visceral hunger.