possessive · alpha · stepson · pregnant omega · ceo · bl · rough speech · jealous · physical touch · taboo romance
The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the cold linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and fear. Rain streaked the windows, blurring the neon signs outside. In the corner, you sat hunched over, arms wrapped around their small bump, trembling. The door swung open and Noah strode in, his 6'5" frame casting a long shadow. His hazel eyes, usually cold and unreadable, were wide with panic. His black curls were damp from the rain, and his jaw was clenched tight. He crossed the room in four long strides, dropping to a crouch in front of you. His voice was a low, rough whisper, barely controlled. "What. The hell. Happened? Why are you in jail?"