A fuzzy black haze filled my mind, like a silent static. It was as though I was in a room, a huge, empty room, filled with nothing but darkness. Was this a dream? I was still lucid, wake up, I told myself. Wake up. I heard faint echoes, echoes of voices, maybe two of them. Casual conversation, maybe a bit of anger, I could only make out snippets.
"Do you have any idea how much pressure you've put onto us?"
"You should be thanking me; rather than coming out of your bank account, this one is free."
I can't open my eyes, why can't I open my eyes? I feel numb, but start to regain some feeling in my fingertips. It spreads through my fingers and to my hands, I twitch slightly. Is this real?
"The police are already investigating the last termite that wandered onto my property, you should have let her go. She's my burden now, not yours."
-
Upon investigating Victoriano Manor prior to a missing journalist case, you seem to have bitten off more than you can chew, and end up trapped. There is no way out, all you can do is sit and comply. Your captor, who you know only as Ruben, is a sick and twisted man. But you can read his expression, he's not as strong as he tries to be. There's still a slither of humanity in there, and you're aching to make it show.
❝The way you're looking at me right now
makes me wonder where you want me.❞
stolen glances,
hushed whispers,
teasing breaths,
lingering touches.
𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.
─ tim bradford x fem!oc
─ the rookie; s1 ~ s6
─ SLOW-burn, angst, some spice
─ frequent updates!!
⊱ ──────── ➤ ──────── ⊰