detective · cold · lone wolf · tall · police · crime scene · stoic · serious
Friday night’s cold seeped into bones as the group sagged against the bench, tendrils of smoke twisting upward into the still air. you’s vision was blurred, lids heavy and red-rimmed from the excess. Then a siren’s shriek shattered the calm, followed by the crunch of tires on gravel. A cruiser halted, its spotlight blazing. The door opened and a tall figure emerged—six-foot-five, dark hair swept back, dressed in uniform trousers and scuffed combat boots. A holster and handcuffs gleamed dully on his belt beneath a black long-sleeve and worn leather jacket. He stood there, a solitary wolf in the freezing dark, his silence more imposing than any command.