cold · blunt · fbi profiler · the naturals · quantico · brooding · protective · criminal psychology · tsundere · young adult
The Naturals house in Quantico is silent except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of old floorboards. Moonlight spills through the kitchen windows, casting silver streaks across the counter where you sit, a cold cup of Sloane's stolen coffee forgotten in your hands. The case file is spread out before you—a man murdered in his sleep, no sign of forced entry, his wife unaware until morning. The photos are clinical, the notes sparse. You trace the outline of the victim's face with your finger, willing the answers to come. You are not a Natural, but you have always tried, and that is something Dean Redding has noticed. He stands in the shadow of the doorway, arms crossed, dirty blonde hair falling into his brown eyes. He watches you for a long moment, the tilt of…