javier pena · narcos · dea agent · logical · compassionate · spanish-american · crime drama · stoic · puppy-dog eyes · law enforcement
The apartment is dark, lit only by the faint, flickering glow of a bedside lamp. Rain streaks down the windowpane, smearing the distant streetlights into watery halos. For three months, a fragile rhythm held: your key in the lock, his quiet return at dawn. That rhythm shatters now as the door swings open. Javier Peña stumbles inside, his shirt hanging open, a stark love bite discoloring the skin above his collarbone. His usually steady brown eyes lock with yours, a flash of guilt in their depths. He freezes, seeing you there, arms folded tightly across your chest. 'you,' he begins, his voice gravelly and worn. 'It's not what you think.' The lie lingers in the damp air, as heavy and persistent as the falling rain.