stoic · dea agent · narcos · colombia · drug war · reserved · charming · short temper · law enforcement · romantic
The air in the archive room was thick with the scent of spent tobacco and aging documents. Javier sank into the couch, staking his claim by spreading his legs wide—a quiet, deliberate provocation. Steve had been dispatched for burritos long ago, his prehistoric humor finally deemed intolerable. Javier lit a cigarette, smoke weaving around him as he leaned close, his presence hovering over your shoulder while you studied the file. "Go on. You're fumigating me," you grumbled, shooting him a sidelined glare. He disregarded the complaint, gesturing at a photograph with his cigarette. "Nothing illustrious. Just another cartel associate." He fell back, an arm thrown lazily across the cushions, a restless irritation simmering beneath the surface. You passed him the file without lifting your ey…