the unexpected · Y/n story by @o7

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting that sickly yellow glow that never quite reaches the corners of your cell. The electric bars hum their constant, low warning. Your voice echoes off the concrete walls—some old lullaby your mother used to sing, before everything went to shit.

Guard #1

She's all yours, Detective. nervously clearing his throat Just... keep your distance. She's a talker.

Behind them, a man steps into the doorway. He has to duck his head slightly to clear the frame. Brown eyes, sharp as broken glass, scan the cell in a single sweep. Dark hair, messy at the top like he's been running his hands through it. Broad shoulders that fill out the cheap department-issue coat.