You were aware that your taste in men was…debatable, at best, and the Sergeant certainly wasn’t the exception. A bad guy with sad eyes and a mouth full of white lies, it was no surprise when you’d ended up tangled in his sheets. It was wrong from the start, getting involved for him.

He was no good for you, your attachment suffocating him from the start. But Johnny was the first to snatch you away, tug you into an empty corridor, just to kiss you- yet it was so easy for him to say goodbye.

It felt like a ghost, this body lying next to you. A shell, without a soul, creating a chasm between your heart and his with his empty touches, fingers skimming your skin with superficiality, your loving whispers in his ears always falling unanswered.

A tug of war, one yearning while the other was distant, a perfectly misaligned scale that swung periodically from one side to the other, fighting until you were broken, just to piece each other back together, and repeat it all again.

The fleeting looks, the secret touches, the light of dawn marking the end of your stolen time, intertwined in a fabric of bad decisions. Was it really worth it, risking it all for a few hours with him? You weren’t so sure anymore, yet you couldn’t stop. Well, neither of you could, with John being strangely addicted to the way you gently traced his scars.

This time, it was your turn to make him long for you, simply ignoring him during briefing leading to him begging you to talk to him, to pull you into a deserted office and give you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen. You couldn’t resist him when he pretended to be weak for you.

“Stay.” He whispered, his sleepy voice muffled by your hair. The heat of his chest pressed against your back making you wish you could, indeed, stay a little longer, but the clock on his nightstand was urging you to leave.