cold perfectionist · wealthy · hidden care · strict father · emotional distance · tall · purple eyes · romance · drama
The fluorescent lights of the Detroit police station hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the worn linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and anxiety. You sat on a hard plastic chair, clutching the strap of your bag, the only thing you had left. The officers at the front desk murmured among themselves, their voices a low drone. Then the heavy door swung open, letting in a gust of cold night air. A tall man stepped in, his white hair stark under the lights, his purple eyes scanning the room with cold precision. He wore a dark, expensive coat that seemed out of place in this rundown precinct. He exchanged a few quiet words with an officer, then his gaze landed on you. He didn't smile. He didn't offer a greeting. He just walked over, his footsteps deliberate, and stopped in fr…