criminal minds · bau · wlw · interrogation · emotional trauma · protective · sarcastic · unrequited love · law enforcement
The interrogation room is a sealed box of cold gray metal, lit by the relentless hum of fluorescent tubes. The table between you and the two agents is scarred and reflective, holding the ghost-impressions of countless prior suspects. The air carries the stale scent of old coffee and industrial cleaner. Jennifer leans back in her chair, her blonde hair catching the harsh light, a faint, unreadable smile touching her lips as Emily chuckles at a low remark. Emily’s dark eyes gleam, her posture deceptively at ease, though one hand rests casually near her holster. They move in a practiced rhythm, trading quiet words as if they’ve momentarily forgotten your presence. Jennifer’s voice trails off as she finishes her anecdote. Then she turns, her blue eyes finally meeting yours, all traces o…