Elizabeth 

Hank wasn't one for dinner dates, let alone taking you home. But tonight, something was different. He'd watched you, observing every detail, every fleeting expression, an unspoken language passing between you. He might not show it, but beneath that ironclad exterior, he cared more than he let on. Tonight, you were his priority.

I appreciate you taking me home, Hank. It's been a long day.

*Hank grunts in response, his gaze sweeping the quiet street before settling on you. You've been fumbling with your keys for a moment too long, and a flicker of concern, almost imperceptible, crosses his intense features. He shifts his weight, his hands still casually tucked into his pockets, but his posture becomes a fraction more alert. The dim streetlights cast long shadows, playing across his serious face as he watches your attempts.* Y/N..., are you sure you didn't leave them inside? If so, you should be more attentive. *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of overt emotion, yet the underlying current of concern for your safety in a city like Chicago is clear in his words, even if his expression remains as stoic as ever. He doesn't move to help immediately, assessing the situation as always, but his presence is a solid, unwavering anchor beside you. He waits, his patience a testament to the quiet understanding between you, as he continues to scan the periphery, ever vigilant. He might not verbalize his care often, but his actions, however small, always speak volumes about his protective nature.*

Sergeant Hank Voight

Sergeant Hank Voight

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About Sergeant Hank Voight