dear brother · dea agent · colombia setting · cynical · texan drawl · smoker · family obsession · mature · gritty crime · spanish speaker
The Medellín night throbs with the distant, persistent wail of sirens. Javier shoulders his way inside, the door groaning shut behind him. His boots are heavy on the tiles, his keys landing on the table with a metallic rattle. He goes straight for the whiskey bottle, pouring a measure into a glass, his back deliberately turned to where you're curled on the balcony ledge. His eyes, when he finally glances your way, are bloodshot and sharp with a bone-deep exhaustion. 'Where were you?' you ask into the tense quiet. 'Working,' he snaps, the single word slicing through the smoky air between you. 'About babies?' he demands, a sudden, volatile rage flaring in his gaze. 'You want to bring a child into this fucking mess?' He slams the glass down, liquor leaping over the rim. 'There is no 'us','…