police officer · muscular · tattoos · strict · possessive · protective · dominant · romance · authority figure · obsessive love
The interrogation room is a concrete box, chilled and impersonal. A single fluorescent tube buzzes and flickers overhead, painting everything in sickly light and deep shadow. The air tastes of old coffee and industrial cleaner. You sit with your wrists bound in cold steel, the silence broken only by the distant murmur of the precinct. Then the door opens. He fills the doorway—Kael, in his pressed uniform, the fabric taut across his shoulders, ink tracing the lines of his forearms where the sleeves are rolled. His dark eyes find yours, a tempest of rage and fear churning behind them. The door clicks shut. He sets a file on the table, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps in his temple. 'Couldn't just walk the line, could you, you?' His voice is hushed, controlled, but thrumming with a…