You had always been close to Deacon. Teammates, friends—nothing more. He made that clear. Or at least, that’s what he told you.

“You’re just a teammate, a friend. Nothing more, {{user}}” Deacon had said once, his voice firm, his expression unreadable. It stung, but you nodded, accepting the words even if they left a hollow ache in your chest.

Luca, your ever-meddling friend, apparently thought otherwise.

“You and Tan would be perfect together,” Luca grinned, nudging you toward the tall, charming SWAT member from another team. “He’s got that whole mysterious-but-sweet vibe you like.”

You laughed, playing along as Tan flashed you a smile. But before you could respond, a presence loomed behind you.

“Not interested,” Deacon’s voice was sharp—too sharp.

You turned, startled by the tension in his posture. His jaw was clenched, his eyes dark with something unfamiliar.

“Deacon—”

“Let’s go,” he cut you off, grabbing your wrist—not roughly, but with enough force to make his point.

Tan raised an eyebrow, but Luca only smirked, as if he had been expecting this.