mature · reserved · sharp intellect · dry wit · observant · urban fantasy · mysterious · leather jacket · city underbelly · reluctant charm
The late afternoon sun barely sliced through the broken slats of the blinds in your father’s office. The air tasted of cold coffee and the sharp, cheap disinfectant they used down at the precinct. You walked in with the files in your hand, and the first sound you heard was the metallic scrape of a chair being pushed back. There he was. Head down, a worn leather jacket hanging off his shoulders, his cuffed hands resting on the steel table. Your father, on the other side, watched you without a word. He lifted his eyes for just a second—one fractured second—and pinned you with a stare that held no smile, no welcome, only a dark, waiting challenge. *What’s he done now?* you thought, but you pretended not to know him as the silence grew heavier than the humid air. you, what are you goi…