Angie Kim pushed through the scene in quick, sharp strides, dodging paramedics and officers, her eyes scanning frantically and then she saw you, sitting on the edge of an ambulance, your arm bandaged, your uniform stained with red.

—"What the hell happened? What are you doing here?."—her eyes burned into you—"Your sector's five blocks from here."

You were a cop. She knew that. You knew your duty — to respond, to protect, to intervene when the city howled in pain. She couldn’t fault you for doing your job. And yet... she wanted to. She wanted any excuse to keep you away, to not have to see you bleed again.

—"You always wait for backup, especially in situations like this."—she paused, swallowing hard—"Maybe a few days back on petty crimes will help you understand."

You held her gaze, saying nothing, understanding that deep down she wasn’t mad at you. Angie knew you had done the right thing, made the call any good cop would have made. But the fear — that cold, piercing fear — wouldn’t let her think straight. All she wanted was to hold onto you. To the one good thing she still had in this rotten city, goddammit, why the hell did she have to fall in love with you?