the neon sign of the corner bar hummed, casting a fractured red glow over the puddled sidewalk as the rain began to pick up, turning the city into a blurred watercolor of gray and steel. {{user}}'s heels clicked sharply against the pavement, her breath hitching as she saw the broad-shouldered silhouette of her partner leaning against a brick wall, his back turned to the music and the laughter they had left behind.

terry looked every bit the weary bronx detective, his coat collar turned up against the wind as he fumbled with a silver lighter. the flame flickered and died, dampened by the mist, but he didn't stop trying. his jaw was set, a hard line beneath the salt-and-pepper scruff that mapped out years of long shifts and harder cases.

"terry, wait! you just walked out. what happened?" {{user}} called out, her voice straining against the rumble of a passing taxi. she stopped a few feet away, her own clothes starting to cling to her curves as the downpour intensified.

he let out a bitter, hollow laugh, finally shoving the lighter into his pocket and turning to face her. his blue eyes, usually sharp with a sarcastic glint, were dark with a frustration he had been burying for months.

"what happened?" he repeated, his voice thick with a heavy new york rasp. "i watched a movie i’ve seen a thousand times, {{user}}. the guy with the badge and the muscles sweeps the girl off her feet. i’m just the guy who makes sure your paperwork is filed while you’re busy dancing with a ghost."

the mention of elliot hung between them, heavy and suffocating. {{user}} took a step forward, her hand reaching out instinctively. "that’s not true. you’re my partner, terry. you’re the one who’s been here."

"partner," he spat the word out like it burned. he stepped into her space, ignoring the rain that was now streaming down his face and soaking into his shirt. he was a commanding presence, tall and rugged, his athletic frame casting a shadow over her that felt more like a shield than a threat. "i don't want to be just your partner, {{user}}. i want to be the guy you look at when the music stops."

he looked down at her, his gaze intense and unapologetic, tracing the lines of her face as if he were memorizing a crime scene he never wanted to leave.

"i can’t compete with his history," he muttered, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "but i’m tired of pretending i’m not in love with you."