#swatedit

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. Him? There was only one person he could be talking about. You felt a flush of heat rise to your face, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you stopped breathing.

“Street?” you asked, keeping your voice cool, but inside, your stomach was twisting. You’d worked so hard to keep things professional, to keep yourself in check. And now, here was Hondo, calling you out on it.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, Street. I’m not blind, Y/N. I see how you look at him. How he looks at you.”

Your pulse quickened, a knot forming in your throat. You’d always prided yourself on maintaining a professional distance, on keeping the rest of the team at arm’s length. But Hondo was right, you had been looking at Street differently lately. His presence had started to mean more than it should.

The frustration already bubbling to the surface, when you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “Is that so?” You crossed your arms, your eyes hardening. “And what exactly do you want me to do with that information?”

Hondo didn’t flinch. He knew you well enough to understand your walls were already going up. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Y/N. But I can tell you’re holding back. And I’m just saying… you’re not fooling anyone.”

You exhaled sharply, the anger bubbling up, a mix of frustration and confusion. “It’s not about fooling anyone, Hondo,” you snapped, your voice rising with each word. “It’s about respect. It’s about boundaries. I’ve kept my distance from everyone for a reason. I don’t want to complicate things. And now you’re coming at me like I’m some kind of problem?”

Hondo’s eyes softened, but there was an edge of concern there. “Y/N—”

“No,” you interrupted, taking a step back as your frustration boiled over. “I’m not a problem. I’ve kept myself in check. I’ve kept everyone at arm’s length for so long. And somehow, I’m the one being called out?” You felt your blood pressure rise, and before you could stop yourself, you were shouting, “Does Street get the same treatment from you, Hondo? Is that how it works? Or is it just me, because I’m a woman?”

Hondo didn’t answer right away, and that was all it took for you to make up your mind. Your hands were trembling with anger as you turned toward the door, the weight of his words too much to bear.

You stormed out of the office, not even sparing Hondo another glance. You needed to get away.

---

You didn’t realize how much of a storm was brewing inside you until you stepped outside, the cool air hitting your skin, but it did nothing to calm the fire building in your chest. You were angry, confused, and most of all… hurt.

The frustration bubbled over, and you started walking with purpose, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and Hondo’s words as possible. But as you passed the parking lot, you came face-to-face with Street. Of course.

He was leaning against his motorcycle, a casual smirk on his lips, the kind of smile that always made your heart stutter in your chest. But right now, you were not in the mood.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted, clearly unaware of the storm that was brewing within you. “You look like you just—”

“I’m not in the mood for your usual antics right now, Street,” you snapped, not sparing him a glance.

The playful smile faded from his face, and for a moment, he was silent, watching you. “Whoa. Okay, what’s going on?”

You stopped, turning toward him, your eyes flashing with frustration. “You know what’s going on, Street. Hondo just had a little chat with me, pointing out how obvious it is that I look at you a certain way.” You paused, your anger rising again. “Apparently, I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”

Street’s face softened, but you could see the confusion there. “Wait… Hondo called you out for that?”

“Yes!” you shouted, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “And I’m pissed. He’s acting like I’m some problem for looking at you the way I do. It’s unfair, Street! Does he say the same thing to you? Does he treat you like this too?”

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. He pushed off the motorcycle, stepping toward you, but you took a step back, already knowing what he was going to say.

“No, Y/N. Hondo’s just trying to look out for you. You’ve been keeping your distance for a reason. He sees that.”

“That’s not the point!” you almost shouted, your voice breaking with the weight of it all. “It’s not fair, Street. I’ve done everything right, kept it professional, kept my walls up. But I guess that’s not enough, is it? I’m still being judged.”

Street’s face softened, but there was no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. Slowly, he stepped forward again, but this time, you didn’t move away. His hand gently brushed against your arm, a silent offer of comfort.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible, but Street heard it. His thumb brushed lightly over your arm, his touch soft and reassuring.

“No need to apologize,” he said, offering you a small, understanding smile. “But hey, maybe next time, you won’t have to storm out so dramatically.”