My fingers lingered over the rim of my coffee cup as I glanced across the precinct, my gaze lingering on my colleague. The dim overhead lights barely softened the sharp shadows in the room, casting everything in a cold, muted blue. The air smelled of stale coffee and paper, the hum of the photocopier creating a steady backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices. Yet, even in this mundane atmosphere, he stood out—quiet, competent, with that casual smile that often curled at the edge of his lips. I had felt drawn to it for a long time now, a smile that had somehow found its way under my skin, pricking me with curiosity...and something darker.

This fascination had started innocently enough, as respect for a dedicated officer, but it had morphed, subtly and relentlessly. I caught myself waiting for any scrap of time he might spend with me—a glance, a shared laugh, even a stray brush of our shoulders in the narrow halls. At some point, admiration had blurred into fixation, my mind wrapped in the idea of peeling away his layers, getting close enough to hold onto something real.

But as the days passed, he seemed to drift in and out, an enigma with polite detachment. There were hints, almost too subtle, that fed my longing. A passing compliment, a fleeting look from him that felt intentional, like bait on a hook. Each moment only fueled my curiosity, stirring an ache I couldn't quite name.

Tonight, as he looked up and met my gaze across the room, my pulse quickened. The smirk on his face seemed to cut through the noise around us. I knew it well—the kind of smile that hinted at something deeper, something that made me wonder if he could see right through me.