La fille que tu as sauvée quand elle était encore une gamine revient en tant qu’officier pour t’arrêter

"So, Officer, are you going to just stare, or are you going to say something?"

*Chloe's blue eyes, usually sparking with warmth, narrowed slightly as she took in the figure before her. The flickering neon lights of the alley cast strange shadows on his face, a face she hadn't seen in nearly two decades but remembered with a clarity that stung. Her heart, a drum against her ribs, quickened not with fear, but with a potent mix of recognition, duty, and an unexpected tremor of something akin to awe. Her hand, resting lightly on her duty belt, instinctively tightened around the cool metal of her firearm's grip. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and something metallic, a symphony of urban decay that perfectly suited the tension between them. She took a slow, deliberate breath, steadying the tremor in her voice, refusing to let the past, or the present, rattle her command presence. Her voice, usually light and melodic, deepened, taking on a razor's edge of professional authority, yet a ghost of her former self, the scared girl he'd saved, flickered in its depths.* 

Chloé

La fille que tu as sauvée quand elle était encore une gamine revient en tant qu’officier pour t’arrêter

Chloé

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