*label R_story_start
[b]The morning, on the outskirts of Fallenmor…[/b]

The snow crunches beneath your feet as you shift your weight, shrugging off the tension in your shoulders before refocusing on the report to finish the initial statement.

It's cold today, but the weather is calm—serene enough to welcome the first day of the new year in the quiet of the nature, enjoying the stillness of the woods.

Or so it would be, if not for the early morning call about the body of the man who went missing after Christmas.

Your limbs trembled as you arrived, thinking that this was it—another victim, another sign of your failure.

But the moment you saw the body and its condition, a cold wave of relief washed over you.

If someone had asked you a few years ago whether you'd ever feel relief upon seeing a body with seven stab wounds, you would have been horrified by the question.

And now? It's the reality you live in.

*page_break [i]When did everything change so much?[/i]
"Detective ${surname}?" A hesitant voice breaks through your focus, and you glance up from the clipboard to meet Officer Wheeler's gaze. "Sorry to bother you… but, uh, do you know how much longer the transporter will be?"

You pull out your phone and check the time. [i]They're delayed. Again.[/i]

"Contact the dispatch and inform them about the delay," you reply, putting your phone away. 

"Am I really supposed to do that?" Officer Wheeler asks cautiously, causing you to raise an eyebrow in a silent question. "I mean… wouldn't they get in trouble for being late?"

"If you don't want to keep waiting for them, now or in the future, then yes, you should," you say, clenching your jaw.

You can't count how many times this has happened—bodies left out for hours before the vehicle finally arrives to pick them up.

"The delay isn't on our side. Dispatch needs to register that," you add tiredly, turning your attention back to the clipboard. "It's a work issue, not something personal."

It's advice your captain gave you long ago after you'd been stuck in situations like this far too many times. Maybe that's why you're still wasting your breath on the rookie.

*page_break It's better to learn from others' mistakes.
"Understood. Thank you, Detective ${surname}," Officer Wheeler says with such genuine gratitude that it feels out of place, but you still nod without giving ${man_him} much attention.

[i]The sooner I finish, the sooner I can leave,[/i] you think, attempting to pick up where you left off before Officer Wheeler interrupted only to realize ${man_she}'s still standing nearby.

When you glance at ${man_him} again, you notice ${man_his} cheeks, already red from the cold, turning scarlet.

[i]…Not this again.[/i]

Apparently oblivious to your thoughts, Officer Wheeler parts ${man_his} lips to say something you're not sure you want to hear, but pauses as ${man_his} eyes flicker past you. 

It takes only a second before ${man_she} gives you a quick nod, marching back toward the body, but the crunch of ${man_his} footsteps is almost immediately replaced by another. 

*page_break Calm. Heavy. Familiar.
${rod_name}'s presence—colder than the winter air—settles around you, drawing your focus toward ${rod_him} before you can even stop it.

"You're a magnet for unnecessary attention," ${rod_she} says, ${rod_his} calm and deliberate tone filling the air with an unsettling chill.

"Including yours?" you ask just as slowly, the clipboard forgotten in your hand as you lock your gaze with ${rod_hrs}.

You didn't mean to imply anything behind your question, but it still shifts something between you, filling the air with a familiar heaviness.

The raw depth of ${rod_his} pale eyes brightens for a split second before ${rod_name} finally responds, "Unfortunately for you."

You raise an eyebrow.

After the conversation in your office, ${rod_name} did indeed tell you ${rod_she} would monitor the active part of your job, so you weren't really surprised to see ${rod_him} arrive shortly after you.

What was a surprise, though, was that ${rod_she} not only stayed out of your way most of the time you worked, but also helped to find the murder weapon—hidden deeper in the forest, so ${rod_his} presence here was more than fortunate.

At least today.

*fake_choice
  #❤️ You smirk. "That's what I thought at first. But apparently, it has its own… upsides."
    "That's what I thought… at first," you say, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "But apparently, it has its own… upsides."

    As you speak, you catch sight of Officer Wheeler again—${man_his} gaze fixed on you and ${rod_name} from a distance.
    
    When you turn back to ${rod_name}, you see ${rod_his} eyes already following the same path you just glanced toward.
    
    To your unexpected delight, ${rod_she} draws closer, positioning ${rod_him}self as if to shield you from 
    @{R_tall view—even though you're taller than ${rod_him}|view—even though you're taller than ${rod_him}|view|view|view}.
    
    Just as you suspected—and to your own amusement—it takes ${rod_name} only a second to divert the officer's attention before ${rod_she} finally turns to face you.
    
    Your smile deepens, and you take a slow, deliberate moment to let your eyes trace over ${rod_him}, savoring your proximity.
    
    "I'm talking about your help today," you continue after a beat, meeting ${rod_his} gaze again.
    
    The barely noticeable clench of ${rod_his} jaw, combined with the lingering silence charged with a prickling tension, sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, 
    and you let ${rod_him} see that you know ${rod_she}'s not entirely immune to this.
    
    *page_break To your proximity.
    "I didn't help you with anything," ${rod_name} says in a low tone, making it hard to focus.
    
    "You helped find the murder weapon," you reply, your voice hoarse 
  #💙 You avert your gaze. "You've been very helpful today, so I'm grateful nonetheless."
    "You've been very helpful today," you say, averting your gaze. "So, I'm grateful, nonetheless."

    As you speak, you catch sight of Officer Wheeler again—${man_his} gaze fixed on you and ${rod_name} from a distance.
    
    When you turn back to ${rod_name}, you see ${rod_his} eyes already following the same path you just glanced toward.
    
    You register a barely perceptible tightening of ${rod_his} jaw before ${rod_she} steps closer, positioning ${rod_him}self as if to shield you from 
    @{R_tall view—even though you're taller than ${rod_him}|view—even though you're taller than ${rod_him}|view|view|view}.
    
    The unexpected proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight to suppress a shaky exhale that threatens to escape as ${rod_name} stays like that for a heartbeat longer—just long enough to shake off the officer's attention before turning to face you.
    
    "You shouldn't be," ${rod_name} says, ${rod_his} voice low, making it hard to focus. "I didn't help you with anything."
    
    *page_break [i]You just did.[/i]
    "You helped find the murder weapon," you reply, your voice croaking slightly 
under the cold intensity of ${rod_his} gaze that ignites something deep within you. "I don't know how you even spotted it, but it saved a lot of time. For the police… and for me."

For a moment, your gazes remain locked in a silence.

"I did it to finish faster, not to help you," ${rod_name} says, lingering for a second longer before pulling away from you.

"No one forced you to stay," you reply, keeping your tone steady despite the disappointment caused by the loss of ${rod_his} proximity and the irritation ${rod_his} words stir.

"Your presence here did," ${rod_name} responds with a deliberate slowness that fuels your suppressed frustration.

You clench your jaw. "As you can see, I've finished. Yet you're still here."

Without waiting for ${rod_his} response, you push past ${rod_him} and head toward your car.

*page_break $!{rod_his} footsteps follow close behind you.
"You didn't call to inform me you were heading there," ${rod_name} says as you reach your car, ${rod_his} words making your jaw tighten.

"Should I?" you ask with subtle defiance, opening the door to the passenger seat and tossing the clipboard inside.

"Should you? No," ${rod_name} responds with a calmness that borders on amusement, bringing out the worst in you. "But I hope I don't need to repeat what was discussed in your office."

"I do remember what you said," you reply with a scowl, pulling the car keys out of your pocket. "That doesn't mean I'm obligated to keep you informed about my work, especially if it's not related to your task here."

"You may not be obligated to, but I'll keep track of that," ${rod_she} replies in a slow, measured tone that does nothing to conceal the steely edge of supremacy. "Whether you like it or not."

Your fists clench as you turn to face ${rod_him}, but before you can respond, your gaze unintentionally flickers over ${rod_his} hands, the redness of ${rod_his} skin and the pronounced dark veins make you pause.

It seems like even someone as cold as ${rod_name} isn't immune to the winter chill, though ${rod_she} doesn't seem to notice.

*page_break But you do.
"I don't care what you do as long as you don't interfere with my work," you say, your tone tight with the mix of emotions this ${rod_man} has managed to stir within you in such a short time.

${rod_name} raises an eyebrow, calmly saying, "I even waited until you were done, didn't I?"

$!{rod_his} statement takes you aback, and you suddenly realize that ${rod_she} intended for this conversation to happen the moment ${rod_she} arrived—but it didn't. [i]It didn't because ${rod_she}—[/i]

You force the thought away, unwilling to let more conflicting emotions flood in because of ${rod_his} presence, ${rod_his} words, ${rod_him}.

"I hope we understood each other, Detective," ${rod_name} says with a familiar flicker of amusement playing at the corners of ${rod_his} lips, lingering ${rod_his} gaze on you a little longer than necessary before turning away to leave.

The moment ${rod_she} does, your gaze shifts to ${rod_his} hands once more, shaping your voice into something steady as you call out, "Wait."

*page_break Slowly, ${rod_name} turns to face you.
Before you can decide against it, you quickly grab two disposable hand warmers from your glove compartment, tearing open the package to activate them before walking up to ${rod_him}.

"Please take these," you say, handing them to ${rod_him}. 

${rod_name} stares at your offering with a blank expression, though the confusion in ${rod_his} gaze is unmistakable when it shifts back to yours. [i]Maybe ${rod_she} doesn't know what they are?[/i]

"Hand warmers. They're disposable, but very useful, and…" Your gaze drops to ${rod_his} hands. "Even if you don't think you need them, your hands certainly do."

${rod_name} briefly glances downward to where your gaze falls before ${rod_his} gray eyes return to yours with no trace of any emotion evident on ${rod_his} expression.

It might have been easier if ${rod_she}'d refused, but instead, ${rod_she} slowly reaches out and accepts them, evoking yet another mix of emotions you find hard to swallow: relief that ${rod_she} accepted them, embarrassment over the worry of being too insistent, hesitation from not knowing how to act around ${rod_him}, and a deep desire to understand it.

Understand ${rod_him}.

Not wanting to face any of these feelings, you refuse to meet ${rod_his} gaze as you turn away and head back to your car.

As you slip into the seat and start the engine, your hand instinctively grips the steering wheel—your personal filter that provides a temporarily escape from the rush of thoughts and feelings because you need to focus on the road.

Yet, in moments like this, you can't help but wish that this temporary relief could turn into something permanent.

*page_break …
[b]Later, somewhere else…[/b]

This morning didn't go as ${rod_name} had anticipated. But then again, nothing involving the detective ever did turn out the way ${rod_she} expected.

Even now, as ${rod_she} returns to the hideout, the lingering swirl of sensations from this ${mc_man}'s mere presence buzzes under ${rod_his} skin. 

But instead of fueling raw anger—as it should, it fills ${rod_him} with something… different.

Strong. Familiar.

${rod_name} clenches ${rod_his} jaw, reminding ${rod_him}self that ${rod_she} is in control—that ${rod_she} needs to be careful.

Unzipping ${rod_his} coat, ${rod_she} reaches for ${rod_his} phone, but ${rod_his} fingers instead brush against warmth that doesn't belong there.

Slowly, ${rod_she} pulls it from ${rod_his} pocket, ${rod_his} gaze falling on the hand warmer in ${rod_his} palm.

*page_break Unnecessary. Distracting.
"What are you looking at so intently?" ${teo_s} voice calls out from a distance as ${teo_she} walks closer.

${rod_name} doesn't notice ${teo_name} approaching.

Either ${teo_name} is getting better at this, or ${rod_name} wasn't paying attention like ${rod_she} should have.

The thought ignites a fiery surge of anger that rushes through ${rod_his} veins like poison, making ${rod_his} fingers twitch, 
yet ${rod_she} forces ${rod_him}self to control ${rod_his} grip on the warm object as ${rod_she} slips it back into the pocket of ${rod_his} coat.

"Nothing," ${rod_name} replies flatly, pulling ${rod_his} phone from the other pocket before hanging ${rod_his} coat on the hook.

${teo_name} hums with mocking amusement. "Are you sure? Because the hand warmer—which, by the way, is a very sweet and thoughtful gift—smells just like the detective."

${rod_name} brushes past ${teo_name} without offering any reaction.

*page_break But ${teo_name} isn't done with ${rod_him} just yet.
Following ${rod_name}, ${teo_name} keeps ${teo_his} tone casual as ${teo_she} asks, "Since you said it's nothing, can I have it?"

"No," ${rod_name} replies curtly, entering the room ${rod_she}'s been occupying since they arrived.

"Why not?" ${teo_name} presses with genuine curiosity, settling into the armchair near the couch.

"It's disposable," ${rod_name} says, beginning to change ${rod_his} clothes. "And you don't need it."

"Technically, you need it even less than I do," ${teo_name} points out lightly, turning to face ${rod_name} as soon as ${teo_she} hears ${rod_him} finishing. "So—"

"No," ${rod_name} responds again, this time with a tone intimidating enough to dissuade any further objections.

${teo_name} lets out a dramatic sigh. "A shame."

*page_break 
"How much time is left before training?" ${rod_name} asks, walking back to the door.

"Fifteen minutes," ${teo_name} replies, narrowing ${teo_his} gaze. "It would've been more if you hadn't been delayed with the detective. Not that I can blame you…"

${rod_name} turns slowly to face ${teo_him}, the serene calmness of ${rod_his} expression sending a chill down ${teo_s} spine.

"Be ready," ${rod_name} says in a low tone before exiting the room.

${teo_name} lets out a chuckle, the cold shiver still rippling through ${teo_his} body, blending with a growing sense of anticipation.

Angry ${rod_name} is ${teo_his} favorite—less restrained, more honest.

Not to mention, ${teo_name} finds something strangely satisfying about how easily ${teo_she} manages to achieve it today. How and why. 

The thought makes ${teo_name} smile.

*page_break [i]Today's training will be fun.[/i]
*goto_scene main_page