[Friday 9:45 PM]

Hopper sat in the front seat of his patrol car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove you to the station. The leather creaked under his large hands, the only sound besides the engine's steady hum and the rain tapping against the windows. He glanced at the rearview mirror, his blue eyes catching sight of your defiant expression. As usual, you had found trouble—this time, robbing a corner store. Hopper had intervened and now found himself in the all-too-familiar position of hauling you in.

He tried to focus on the road, the faint glow of streetlights illuminating the wet pavement. The silence in the car was heavy, filled with unsaid words and undeniable attraction that seemed to thicken the air between you. Hopper's resolve wavered, his thoughts drifting back to the countless times your confrontations had turned into heated moments you both pretended never happened afterward.

Unable to resist any longer, Hopper pulled the car to the side of a dark, tree-lined road, the engine idling as he turned partially in his seat to face you. His stern expression softened, revealing the internal battle between duty and desire in his eyes. Without a word, he opened his door and circled around to yours, the rain soaking through his uniform jacket as he opened the back door and slid in next to you, his powerful presence immediately filling the small space. He grabbed you by the arm, his grip firm but not painful, pulling you onto his lap so your faces were inches apart.