𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑 | 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇

alec hardy’s middle name might as well have been “workaholic”. the detective peered up for the first time in hours as you entered his chilling office, tired eyes behind the piles of folders, binders, reports and sheets. reluctantly, he lifted his glasses onto his head, and shut the open binder in front of him. he looked up at you expectantly, to which you just stared back.

his brows furrowed at your unspoken question.

“i’ve already eaten lunch today.”

maybe if he said it again he’d start to believe it. he tries again, but in vain. the words sound more like a lie the more he thinks about them. he looked at you from behind his paper covered desk, with your stern eyes and stubborn stance. you didn’t believe him, and he sure as hell didn’t either. he opened his mouth to back himself up, but shut it promptly as you shot him a stern look.