𝙧𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙖𝙣.

what they define their relationship with your muse as:

    “calling  it  dating  seems  too  simple,  it’s  more  than  that.  it’s  chaotic,  complicated..  dangerous  for  anyone  who’s  in  close  proximity.  sometimes  i  don’t  know  if  we’re  actually  in  a  relationship  or  a  death  pact.”    

something they like about your muse:

    “one  minute  she’ll  be  blowing  up  my  phone  with  pictures  of  her  tits  and  the  next  she  sends  me  shit  about  fish  mating,  attaching  themselves  to  each  other,  sharing  organs  and  then  asks  me  if  that’s  gonna  be  us.  i’ve  never  been  with  anyone  who’s  made  me  feel  at  peace  while  also  making  me  feel  like  i’m  losing  my  mind.  she’s  one  of  the  funniest  people  i  know,  although  she’ll  never  hear  that  from  me.  she’s  a  big  softy  and  i  love  that  she’ll  shiv  me  for  just  saying  that.  i  like  the  time  we  spend  together…  even  if  it  is  dragging  me  down  to  the  local  cinema  to  see  one  of  her  old,  boring  black  and  white  movies  that  she’ll  recite  line  for  line.  i’m  a  sap.”

something they dislike about your muse:

     “she’s  able  to  shut  down  and  ice  me  out  like  it’s  nothing.  it  can  last  for  hours,  sometimes  days.  she’s  incredibly  stubborn  like  that,  but  if  you  ask  her  she’ll  probably  tell  you  i’m  just  as  bad.”

their first impression of your muse:

    “wow.  and  i  don’t  mean  wow,  like,  this  girl  is  so  stunningly  beautiful  and  i  don’t  know  what  to  do  with  myself,  you  know,  like  she’s  used  to?  but,  wow…  what  the  fuck  is  wrong  with  this  girl?  she  pulled  out  all  the  stops,  tried  the  seductress  act  which  just  left  us  in  an  awkward  silence.  all  while  talking  like  some  chick  from  an  old  hollywood  movie.  the  most  bizarre  shit  i’ve  ever  come  across.”

their impression of your muse now:

    “she’s  the  only  person  who  can  simultaneously  make  me  want  to  throw  myself  off  a  cliff  and  come  crawling  back  for  more.”  

how they feel about your muse:

   “there’s  no  one  else  in  the  world  i’d  kill  for,  there’s  no  one  else  i’d  dispose  of  a  body  for,  she  means  everything  to  me.”

something they are hiding from your muse:

    “we’re  not  gonna  talk  about  the  fact  that  i  just  got  myself  deeper  into  this  shit  hole  city  and  that  we’ll  be  stayin’  here  a  bit  longer  than  she  wanted.”

something they wish they could to tell your muse:

i’m sure i somehow pissed you off this morning, which makes this even better because i’ve actually spent the last few days running around to get this for you.

you’ve got talented fingers, and i mean that in more ways than slipping them inside of me while everyone pays respects in the next room. your drawings are really good, and i wanna see more of them. maybe sketch some more of my face and less of my tits, you perv. 

world’s biggest dick can be taken in many different ways. have fun. 

i personally know nothing about metal, but i know you like it so i spoiled you with some more vinyl of angry dudes yelling. if it makes you happy, then go off. 

lastly, some more dirty lingerie (and nude) polaroids for the ol’ spank bank collection. self timer, baby, so don’t freak out. or do, if it means you’ll choke me a bit. 

maybe i like you a bit. who knows?

yours, 

stella

     “the main reason i keep you around is to motor boat those huge fuckin’ tits. still recovering from the black eye from when one bounced back at me. and, of course, can’t forget the head you give. happy valentine’s day, baby!”

open starter

location: Eden Parking Lot time: 11:30pm

Rosa stretched out her neck as she stood by her motorcycle; tilting her head to the side and twirling her hair all night really didn’t seem worth it for the most part but the pay did make things worth it. As she went to start up the bike, a guy walked out of the club; she recognized him was one of the guys she made sure to avoid because he was too grabby and obnoxious. Apparently, and unfortunately for her, he wasn’t planning to avoid her. “Sweet thing, missed ya inside.” Rosa rolled her eyes, putting on a fake smile, “Too bad, guess I can catch ya next time.” Her patience was already wearing thin with guy and he had barely spoken ten words to her.

The final nail in the coffin came when she felt a hand tugging at her wrist, “Come on doll, how about one on the house.” Rosa was pissed; for one thing, she couldn’t believe she actually believed that he would’ve left her alone. She eyed his hand on her and looked back at him, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take your hand off in the next second or else you’ll be eating pavement.”

@crimsonstarters​

         there  was  an  agreement ,  an  understanding  that  javier  would  keep  his  distance  from  eden ,  from  rosa ,  and  allow  her  to  do  her  job  with  as  little  disruption  as  possible.  that  he  would  keep  his  volatile  temper  in  check  and  not  break  the  neck  of  every  man  who  laid  a  hand  on  his  sister.  it  still  didn’t  stop  him  from  loitering  outside  the  club ,  idling  discreetly  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  parking  lot  to  make  sure  rosa  got  to  and  from  the  club  without  incident.  since  their  father’s  death ,  javier’s  made  several  failed  attempts  at  wrangling  in  the  family ,  keeping  them  on  a  tight  leash ,  but  his  sisters  were  determined  to  be  elusive  as  ever.

he  bolts  from  the  warmth  of  his  car  and  into  the  bitter  night air  as  soon  as  he  sees  this  guy  stumbling  out  of  the  club ,  correcting  himself ,  and  then  making  a  beeline  for  rosa.  javier  still  has  his  service  weapon  clipped  to  his  belt ,  fingers  fumble  with  the  holster  until  he’s  got  it  drawn  at  his  side.  he’s  not  even  sure  if  he’s  about  to  give  this  prick  the  scare  of  his  life  or  beat  the  shit  out  of  him.  “hey,  asshole.”  the  pistol  comes  down  with  an  unsettling  crack  to  the  back  of  the  skull  and  the  guy  hits  the  pavement  with  a  heavy  thud.  his  gaze  only  lingers  for  a  moment,  making  sure  he’s  down  for  the  count,  before  it  lifts  to  meet  rosa’s.  “so...  what,  you’re  just  not  gonna  return  my  phone  calls?  i  have  to  come  out  here  and  make  sure  you’re  still  breathing?”

    “  and  i’m  looking  at  you,  ”  stella’s  voice  remains  a  low,  compelling  murmur  that’s  a  far  cry  from  the  coquettish  purr  she  used  to  offer  this  crowd  —  it’s  rooted  in  something  deeper  with  javier,  which  makes  this  doubly  more  frustrating.  she  takes  a  sniff,  the  usual  comfort  of  his  faint  cologne  now  clouded  by  the  bar’s  offerings.  “  fucking  hell,  if  i  light  a  match  right  now,  you’d  set  aflame.  ”  she’s  never  been  one  to  be  left  out,  immediately  beckoning  the  bartender  for  two  of  whatever  he’s  been  drinking  -  for  a  svelte  little  thing,  she  holds  her  liquor  well.  “  it  doesn’t  mean  anything.  hell,  it  never  meant  anything.  ”  the  sincerity  of  their  moment  is  tainted  by  the  unwelcome  third  party  that’s  made  no  secret  of  his  gawking.  she  finally  shifts  a  hardened  gaze  at  him,  “  can  you  fuck  off  before  he  breaks  your  neck  and  i  gauge  your  fuckin’  eyes  out  ?  ”

  a  singular  threat  is  all  it  takes  for  the  creep  to  shuffle  off,  and  stella  eagerly  postures  herself  sweetly  back  in  javi’s  arms.  “  see  ?  it’s  that  easy.  and  who knows,  maybe  one  of  these  days,  you’ll  let  me  be  front  row  when  you  do  break  someone’s  neck,  hm  ?  ”  nothing  really  scared  stella.  not  murder,  not  rising  tensions,  only  …  well,  losing  him.  everything  else  felt  secondary  in  comparison.  “  hold  on,  ”  she  mumbles  when  the  drinks  arrive,  quickly  tossing  them  back  in  quick  succession  and,  after  that  obligatory  wince  as  the  burn  takes  hold,  offers  a  dazed  grin  at  javier.  “fine,  baby,  we  can  go.  but  in  this  dress,  everybody’s  gonna  be  lookin’  -  unless  you’ve  got  a  spare  trench  coat  somewhere.  ”  salacious  thoughts  are  rarely  too  far  off  for  her,  though,  and  she’s  pulling  at  the  front  of  his  shirt,  smirking  toying  at  her  lips.  “  or  you  can  remind  everyone  here  that  i’m  all  yours  now.  ” 

       just  for  a  moment ,  while  this  prick  prepares  to  do  a  number  on  already  frayed  nerves ,  the  mask  slips  slightly  to  reveal  the  bottled  rage  simmering  underneath.  it’s  the  way  his  jaw  sets  with  a  subtle  twitch ,  the  curl  of  his  fist  around  the  empty  glass ,  the  slow  roll  of  his  shoulders  to  alleviate  the  mounting  pressure.  there’s  no  hiding  the  way  he  feels  about  this  place  or  the  dregs  who  slithered  in  every  night ,  all  of  which  he  gazed  upon  with  glaring  contempt.  but ,  once  they’re  left  to  themselves  —  however  brief  this  peace  may  be ,  his  features  soften ,  the  tension  slowly  eases  and  he’s  tilting  his  head  down  just  far  enough  to  press  a  chaste  kiss  to  her  lips.  “i  think  i’d  rather  be  front  row  watching  you  gauge  someone’s  eyes  out.  i  should  get  you  in  the  gym.”

Vanessa had a strong feeling of what she was about to see, and yet when she laid eyes on the body bag, she groaned, her hands falling to her sides with a thud as she rolled her eyes. “It’s 10am, man,” she said through her teeth, “How do you manage to get yourself in this deep by 10am…” She ran her fingers through her hair, taking several big deep breaths to calm herself down. Honestly, it was as if she was the third in command divvying out advice on how to not screw up or how to clean up a big mess. Maybe that’s where she was headed one day, since all of her skills couldn’t be put to waste. “Okay…” she sighed, “I need to know who, how and/or why. I have a shovel in my trunk, but we’ll have to wear gloves and get rid of it afterwards.”

            “v ,  i’ve  been  here  all  fuckin’  night  cleanin’  up  this  shit.  i  haven’t  even  been  home  and  i  got  a  shift  in  a  few  hours.”  he  closes  the  trunk  ,  sealing  its  contents  for  the  time  being,  giving  it  a  firm  push  until  he  heard  that  secure  click  of  the  latch.  “i  managed  by  having  the  car  stall  early  this  morning  and  nobody  pickin’  up  a  fuckin’  phone.  those  recruits  they  keep  pullin’  in  don’t  know  how  to  boost  a  car.  if  they’re  not  stealing  a  piece  of  shit,  they’re  lifting  a  mercedes  that  might  as  well  have  a  flashing  neon  sign  strapped  to  the  roof.”  he  takes  a  sudden  ,  deep  intake  of  breath  feeling  somewhat  relieved  to  get  that  off  his  chest.  

everything  feels  so  different   ——   stella’s  seen  this  lounge  just  about  every  night  for  the  last  handful  of  years,  and  while  she’s  capable  of  losing  herself  onstage,  it’s  always  been  tainted  with  muted  dread.  their  faces  in  the  crowd,  that  private  room  where  anything  can  happen   -   perhaps  stella  had  been  operating  under  inebriated  optimism  (  or  simply  turning  a  blind  eye  )  but  she’s  never  fully  reconciled  her  unhappiness  with  what  she  had  to  do  to  get  by.  she  doesn’t  buy  into  the  sentiment  that  your  life  comes  in  chapters,  but  if  she  did,  that  is  one  she’s  happy  to  close.

  the  final  croon  of  her  set  completes,  and  she  can  already  see  the  hunger  in  their  eyes,  glossy  and  entitled.  stella  swallows  hard,  thanking  them  for  their  eager  applause  and  making  a  beeline  for  the  only  person  in  the  room  who  actually  mattered:   javier  leon.  he  still  manages  to  provoke  every  sensation  possible  in  her,  blind  fury  in  the  heat  of  their  arguments  and  overwhelming  love  that  she  wishes  she  could  just  spit  out  already.  instead,  she  drapes  her  arms  around  his  neck,  pressing  her  body  close  and  already  trying  to  dispel  the  anger  she  knows  is  there.  “  i  didn’t  wear  a  dress  this  tight  for  you  to  waste  it  on  assholes  that  don’t  matter,you  know,  ”  she  murmurs,  pouting  slightly.  anything  to  diffuse  the  tension.  “  baby,  look  at  me.  ”  @madecorrupt​

       it’s  the  same  lounge ,  the  same  seedy  crowd  of  people  who  occupy  skyfall  every  night.  all  waiting  for  their  passing  glimpse  of  stella,  hanging  on  every  note ,  devouring  every  move.  if  he  could  strike  a  match  right  now ,  douse  the  lounge  in  flames,  watch  it  burn  down  all  around  him  and  be  done  with  this  place  for  good ,  his  life  would  be  much  more  content.  maybe  it’d  soothe  the  mounting  tension  coiling  itself  between  his  shoulder  blades.  but ,  a  promise  was  made,  reassurances  he’d  make  sure  that  white-knuckled  rage  stayed  as  far  under  the  surface  as  possible.

he  does  his  best  to  act  casual ,  at  least  as  casual  as  one  could  be  fervently  eyeing  every  lingered  gaze  in  the  room  and  running  up  a  tab  at  the  bar.  the  burn  of  the  liquor  dulled  with  each  glass  and  it  was  going  down  like  water  at  this  point.  nothing  eased  the  tension ,  not  even  as  he  felt  arms  slip  around  his  neck,  the  warmth  of  her  body  press  tightly  against  his.  “yeah ,  i’m  looking.  in  fact ,  everybody’s  looking  from  what  i  can  tell.”  there’s  a  looming  presence  in  his  peripheral ,  one  he’s  more  than  prepared  to  snuff  out  if  they  took  another  step.  “can  we  get  the  fuck  outta  here  now?  i’m  kinda  sick  of  dealing  with  your  little  admirers.”

Though the sun set hours ago, the doors to Sacred Heart remain unlocked. A priest’s work is rarely ever done, Abraham thinks, rather bitterly, to himself. The collar around his neck feels unusually tight today. His lungs itch for a cigarette while a migraine forms at the spot on his forehead where he’d furrowed his eyebrows all day, feigning interest in the lives of his parishioners. They deserve a better minister, he continues to himself, fumbling to remove the collar and the first button of his shirt. It’s late. Few would come for a confession this late at night.

Abe’s wrong, of course. He hears footsteps the moment he thinks he’s through for the night. He scoffs toward the ceiling. Whoever said God worked in mysterious ways was a fucking liar.

“If you’re here for a confession,” he says to the approaching figure, “my office hours ended at six. You’ll be getting an F on today’s plea for forgiveness.”

         heavy steps echo off the churches porcelain tile , there’s no real sense of direction , he’s already regretting having come here in the first place. but, this was expected of him now, everything was going to fall on him. it was he who had to make these decisions because god forbid anybody else came along to take the fucking load off. he couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped foot inside a church. it was almost always for a funeral , never repentance. the old man never could mold javier into a bible thumping , god fearing patron. 

he’s expecting a little more tactfulness from a priest , but he’s more concerned with doing what he came here to do and fulfill his duties as a son for the first time in his life.

@crimsonstarters​

Vanessa Walker is the busiest woman in Chicago. She would not be the first to say it, but she certainly felt it. A fatal flaw indeed; the incapability to say no; a need to fill her life with as much as she could find so she wouldn’t have to dwell on lonely nights in a half-empty queen sized bed. Naturally, once she was summoned, she made a graceful exit from a cake testing appointment. She arrived onto the scene, still looking down at her phone to reschedule the few appointments she was bound to miss for this rendezvous. “I got your message, what’s so important?” 

Paloma was believing she was hearing things because that couldn’t be the voice of her son coming toads her and there was no way his hands are around her arms — and yet here he was. She turned to face him and she could feel the tears of relief brimming; the weight of worry immediately lifted from her shoulders and she was just filled with absolute relief. “Oh, mijo,” Paloma wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling him close to her; she flinched at the sound of the bullets flying past them. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Let’s, let’s go…where do we go?” She had no idea what they were going to do after this but she knew there was no time to think about later when surviving now was more important.

        all sense of direction is lost in the blur of frantic , screaming bodies scouring for an exit , dropping to the floor for cover or , in some cases , with a hole to the back of the head. javier’s drawing the 9mm from his belt , moving them from the bloodbath of the ballroom with a grip tightly secured around her arm. “just keep your head down and keep moving.” his voice is lost among the fray as he elbows and shoves through the masses. the body of the superintendent looms in his peripheral , but he resists the urge to have another look. “alright,” he positions them beneath the cover of the spiraling staircase , eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar face. amelia , liam...  ariela. he wasn’t about to leave without finding where ari had run off to. “i’m gonna get you outta here. i just need to go back out there and find somebody.”

Ariela glanced to Javier and then back to the crowd. She was always reckless and chaotic, it was within her nature to cause a storm. For a second, she even toyed with the thought of tasering her brother in the side for funsies. She didn’t like the fact she wasn’t able to smuggle a gun in. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that wouldn’t be satisfied by the drinks at the bar. 

An eyebrow perked into an arch as she let out a breath of air and looked around once more. One hand lifted up in an attempt to smack her brother’s grip away from her neck. “I’m hunting, Javi.” Arielle huffed as she purposefully stood on her tip toes to peek over his shoulders. “So? I’ll punch her in the jugular and knock her ass out then.” The words huffed with little care. Arms folded across her chest in an underlying defiant tone. An eyeroll before she continued,  “I couldn’t hurt mom. Maybe you could keep her fucking distracted for me? As long as I don’t throw fists at the first ugly motherfucker, besides you, I see I should be ace.” The agitated huff left her lips before she poised the question back to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

         a dull roar began to work itself behind him , causing the ballroom to come at a standstill , pausing all the festivities around them. at first , he’s talking over it , ignoring it , thinking it’s someone ( presumably their father or the mayor ) giving a speech or welcoming all the guests to this complete farce. it’s not completely registering that the voice , the vernacular , is absolutely nothing like the superintendents. “you know , I’m fuckin’ tired of covering for you , ariela. if you wanna dodge mom , have fuckin’ fun doing it without my help. just get the fuck outta here.”

javier abandons the drink. he’s reaching for her , aiming for her neck , the strap of her dress , any place he can get his hands on to get her moving. she could hate him and spew her vitriol at him later , he wasn’t about to let his sister get caught in the inevitable crossfire between the gangs. the stillness , locked expressions of the guests , and the booming voice from the balcony is what finally catches his attention. his gaze drifts to the scene unfolding above them , a sense of dread wrapping itself tightly in his chest. “what the fuck is this?”

open starter

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real…

Like a child trying to convince themselves that the monster in their closet isn’t real, Paloma tried telling herself she didn’t just watch her ex-husband get shot and killed right in front of her. She had loved that man and still to this day respected him and it was like a piece of her heart was just ripped out of her chest with vicious anger with no regard to her feelings and wellbeing. Paloma’s first thought went straight to her kids; if they were here then they were in danger in her eyes and she needed to see them and make sure they were safe. 

Paloma tried to drown out the screams and push around the bodies as her eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face. She was trying to call someone, anyone to help people but none of her calls were going through, “¡Maldito sea!” As if that wasn’t bad enough, someone came running past her, causing her to not only drop her phone but fall backward and hit her head on the ground. Paloma sat up, dazed from the hit, and rubbed the back of her head.

            the room spun into a chaotic blur , guests amassed , slamming into one another as they swarmed and clamored for the exit doors only to be met with russian grunts forcing everyone back. either with a bullet or blow to the head. there’s a grotesque fascination in the way javier’s gaze looms over the suspended , lifeless corpse of his father. he watched as blood spilled down the superintendent’s face from the dime sized hole in his forehead and pooled onto the floor below. he’s completely numb , not even able to register what he’s really looking at. it won’t hit him until he’s out of the fray , alone, and dwelling on this evenings events.

@madecorrupt​

Ariela hated these formal events. Did they not understand how much of a pain in the ass it was to smuggle stuff inside? Not drugs, but weapons. It left her in a sour mood, which wasn’t any different than any other day with her.  She swiped a champagne glass, pouring the contents of it out near her. Refilling the glass to the grim with straight vodka, before she wandered through the crowd. Some faces she wished she didn’t recognize, and one for sure she stayed the hell away from for right now. 

Perhaps it was her focus on one person that she didn’t even notice her brother. Until he was mere inches from her. A judgement swoop of her gaze at him with a haughty huff of her breath. She takes a swig from the champagne glass with her leering judgmental gaze.

“I wasn’t aware being a caveman went with the fucking 20′s theme, Javi.”

      if it were up to him , he would have missed out on this whole shit show. packing them in like rats, as if any good was going to come of it, wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. he’s slipping past some of chicago’s finest , all dressed up in their lavish 20′s attire and attempting to look inconspicuous. for anyone who bothered to look twice , their posture and the general air of scum gave them away. javier reaches the bar undetected ( the old man seemed to be keeping more of a watchful eye on him tonight and the chief was another avoidance he was attempting ) and orders himself a shot of jameson just as the cheery figure of ariela appeared at his side. 

“ari, what the hell are you doing here?” his hand finds the back of her neck , guiding her to the dimly lit corner of the bar and blocking her from the view of the crowd behind them. he glances over his shoulder , not spotting anyone and continues. “you do know dad is here, right? and mom? if she sees you, she’ll never let you go. believe me.” 

Off the clock, but not off duty. Never off duty. 

There’s no sign on the dash. No symbol on the plates either. Who parks in a spot that’s clearly for handicapped drivers?  Chicago has bigger problems than the actions of selfish drivers. Honestly, so does Norah. Recently promoted to a DA investigator, she ought to leave these concerns to those on feet. Or the officers dressed in blue. Blame it on habit, even outrage would due, but she scribbles away on a ticket. It’s a small sin, but, injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.

When it’s finished, she puts it on the windshield. “Enjoy that three hundred dollar ticket, jackass,” Norah mutters. Continuing to her apartment, she turns her frame to the right. Perfect timing, as she catches sight of one lonely wad of cash, and a single person walking away from the scene. Keeping it doesn’t even cross her mind. “Hey,” she calls to the faceless stranger. “Did you drop something?” Norah keeps the money hidden in her sleeve. If it’s theirs, they’ll know it’s missing.

         this wasn’t his usual beat. in fact , he’s supposed to be somewhere far off on the other side of town right about now, directing traffic or sitting discreetly with his thumb up his ass. waiting for some dumb prick to push his luck trying to beat a yellow light. no, he was strolling through o’shea territory this afternoon , having just slipped out the back of skyfall for a drop. he was tucking his earnings into his down jacket , pulling it tight against his body as another wind chill whipped around the buildings when he heard the voice from behind. he took one look and regretted ever having come down here at this hour. 

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐃𝐀𝐘,   𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐁𝐄   𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐃   by   the   hands   of   no   other   than   dea   agent   travieso   –   -   which   seemed   to   be   a   routine   she   knew   like   the   back   of   her   hand.   there   would   always   be   a   dealer   they   missed,   a   drop   they   were   too   late   to;   just   another   day   at   the   office.   the   woman   had   found   herself   just   leaving   her   desk   after   finalizing   a   bust   gone   right,   confident   smile   still   exuberant   from   a   job   well   done,   when   she   got   the   call   for   yet   another.   tires   screeeeched   !   as   the   suv   pulled   over   on   the   street,   the   clashing   of   heels   hitting   pavement   echoed   down   alleyway   as   she   made   her   way   to   what   was   now   her   crime   scene.

perfect   cuticles   snap   latex   gloves   on   like   butter   once   pantsuit   met   police   tape.   xiomara   dove   under   it   effortlessly,   asking   the   first   responder   with   their   hand   in   the   bag   what   they   had   found.   heroin   and   narcotics.   typical.   that’s   when   gaze   fell   upon   a   certain   face   that   was   all   too   familiar.   out   of   all   the   cops   in   cpd.         ❛   finally   off   desk   duty   or   was   this   some   pity   patrol   gone   wrong   ?   ❜   smirk   tugged   at   glossed   lips   but   she   dared   to   say   more   –   -   attention   went   back   to   the   bag   as   she   gestured   for   the   other   to   hand   it   over.   same   packaging.   same   product.   same   dealer.   but   on   this   side   of   town   ?   asshole   is   getting   ballsy.          ❛   he’s   stretching   out.   going   out   of   his   comfort   zone.   hmmph.   ‘guess   he   knows   i’m   crackin’   down   on   him.   ❜

         nearly every fiber in his body is begging him to leave it alone , ignore her , turn on his heel , away from this dead john gaping up at him , and return to the warmth of his squad car. it was his own fault for sticking around for so long , knowing she wouldn’t be too far behind once the call got out over dispatch. he fixes mara with a stern gaze , teeth clenched , a subtle twitch of his jaw that more than likely didn’t go unnoticed. “well , we can’t all be hot shot cops tearin’ around the city takin’ out drug traffickers like it’s our own personal vendetta.” his fists clenched , then unclenched inside his jacket pockets as he takes a deep breath in , and then out. it’s a poor attempt at controlling the ever growing resentment scratching beneath the surface.