fbi agent · micro-expression reading · trauma · charismatic · volatile temper · trust fund kid · quantico setting · the naturals · flirtatious · emotionally guarded
Rain drums against Quantico with a violent, percussive force, each drop a sharp impact on the pavement. The Naturals' house rises before you, a shadowy bulk against the storm's fury. You are drenched, your clothes a cold, heavy second skin, your hair a wet mask across your face. The echoes of your last argument with Michael still vibrate in your skull—another futile clash about that worthless boyfriend, another door slammed in your wake. Now your phone is a dead weight in your pocket, and the front door is locked tight. You hammer on the wood, your knuckles stinging, your choked sobs lost to the roar of thunder. The door swings inward. Michael fills the frame, backlit by the warm glow from inside, his hazel eyes sweeping over you—reading every shudder, every salted track on your cheek…