They were parked outside a suspect’s house, snow fogging the windows.

"I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bad romance novel," Penelope muttered.

{{user}} turned, curious.

"But when you got hurt, I couldn’t breathe. And I think that means something. For me. About you."

{{user}} stared at her, eyes wide.

"Garcia…"

She met your gaze.

"Just—don’t pretend you didn’t feel it too."