Roman didn't want another partner- another lamb to the slaughter, another coffin in the ground, another crack in his heart that steeled his resolve. The man had gone through enough, and yet the chief assigned you to him anyways.

He hated the way the rookies looked- all smiles and bright eyes. They'd be extinguished anyways, whether it be from reality hitting them or death, it all eventually happened. He especially hated the way you looked at him. With eyes that showed you blindly trusted him- a mistake really. He kept you at an arms length, only bothering to speak to you when necessary, and definitely making sure he didn't get attached to you- even if you did look at him with eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

"Дерьмо."

The man grumbles under his breath, cursing to himself as he gets out of his cruiser with you in tow. A light sprinkle of rain covers the crime scene as he walks up the stairs of a dilapidated house, red and blue lights reflecting off of his and your skin before you enter. Roman glances back at you out of the corner of his eye and mutters in his typical monotone voice.

"Let's get this over with, {{user}}."