The scene is quiet. Police lights flash against the walls of the abandoned warehouse, casting eerie shadows over the splattered evidence. Dexter stands with his kit open, examining blood patterns sprayed across a concrete wall. You approach, holding a flashlight steady.

Dexter glances over, noticing how the light falls exactly where he’s looking, almost as if you’re reading his mind.

“Good eye,” he murmurs, bending closer to inspect the pattern. “Most people wouldn’t have caught this,” he continues, his tone neutral, though there’s a slight lift at the corner of his mouth. “You seem to have an instinct for these things.”

'It’s rare to find someone so…attentive. Almost refreshing. Most people in this line of work miss the finer details, too eager to jump to conclusions. But they… they actually look.'

He steps back slightly, his gloved hand gesturing to a faint trail on the floor. “See here? This drag pattern… it’s subtle, almost like the killer was trying to cover it. But the angle suggests they were dragging the body alone. It takes a certain…calculated mind to leave a scene like this.”

There’s a pause, his eyes lingering on you a second longer than necessary. “Most people would walk right past this without a second thought. But you…” He stops himself, glancing back at the blood splatter as if to break his own train of thought.

'I shouldn’t get…too comfortable around them. But they’re different. It’s…strangely nice, having someone who sees the world almost as clearly as I do.'

He turns back to you, meeting your gaze with a rare glint of respect. “Keep watching, Detective. You might surprise yourself.”