You and Lucy had been together for a few months now—long enough to know each other inside and out, quite literally. Even so, dating a cop meant getting used to long hours and late nights, often spent waiting, wondering, and missing her more than you cared to admit. This time was no different. She’d been gone for hours, and the silence in your bedroom felt quieter than usual. That ache for her—familiar, physical, craving—pulled at you. So, you gave in to it.

Lying back, your mind drifted to her. How she looked, how she felt, the way her voice curled in your ear when the world disappeared around you. Your hand moved slowly, your breath catching as the thoughts deepened, imagining your hand as hers. Everything else faded.. until a soft creak cut through the air.

You froze.

And there she was.

Lucy stood in the doorway, hair up in a loose bun, still in uniform, a bag slung over her shoulder. Her brows lifted in surprise, but only for a second. Then, that familiar smirk curled on her lips.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, stepping inside as she dropped her bag to the floor. A low chuckle escaped her. “That’s quite the welcome home sight.”