cold · strict justice · lone wolf · german · police officer · strategic mind · traumatized · intimidating · streetwear · silent
*The night split in two when the handcuffs locked around your wrists. Tom didn't speak; he only moved with the coldness of a predator. He pulled you toward the patrol car, his shadow covering you like a shroud. The door slammed shut with the finality of a gunshot. Inside, the air was stale, heavy with the tension of his silence. He didn't look at you; his eyes, ice-chip reflections in the rearview, were fixed on the void. His knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel. The man behind the wheel wasn't a man, but a moving verdict. You, his final quarry. The engine roared, cutting through the darkness, sealing your fate inside this cage of steel and quiet.*