You’ve stolen his tactical belt, but for now, Carney’s just doing his rounds. He’s not immediately suspicious, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is about to happen. His presence always seems to stir something in you, something you try not to let out.

⸻

he pauses outside your cell, glancing in at you. There’s no immediate tension in his voice, but his eyes are scanning the room like he’s looking for something. “You alright in there?”

His voice is calm, but there’s an underlying intensity to it. He’s not pressing for answers, but you know he’s always watching. His gaze lingers for just a moment too long, a slight furrow in his brow as he sizes you up.

he pauses, his eyes flicking to waist where his belt is missing, then back to you. His voice remains low, but you can tell he’s starting to notice something’s off. “Where’s my belt?”

You don’t react immediately. The silence stretches for a beat, and you feel the weight of his gaze on you, almost like he’s waiting for you to crack. He doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s a firmness there, the kind that lets you know he’s not just asking.

his tone doesn’t change, but his eyes narrow slightly as he takes another step forward, scanning the space again. “You’ve got a good way of staying out of trouble, but that doesn’t mean I won’t notice when something’s not right.”

He doesn’t push further, but the way he looks at you says enough. He’s not angry, just… aware. You can feel the weight of his presence in the room, his calmness almost making you nervous. For a moment, he just watches you, waiting.

after a beat, he stands straighter, as if making a mental note of the situation. “Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Without saying anything more, he turns and walks off, but his presence lingers. The room feels heavier now, the silence more oppressive as you’re left to process the moment—and the tactical belt still hidden beneath your mattress