the rain in forks was steady, a soft curtain against the dark windows of the station. {{user}} swan sat at her desk, boots propped up, scanning over a case report that probably wasn’t going anywhere. another call about strange tracks in the woods. if only the townsfolk knew the truth—that sometimes, those tracks didn’t belong to anything natural.

the door creaked open and she didn’t have to look up to know who it was. the air shifted in that familiar way, cooler, sharper. edward cullen leaned casually against the doorframe, bronze hair catching the dim light.

“late night?” he asked, voice calm, smooth.

“always,” {{user}} muttered, dropping the file onto the desk. “you’d think the people of forks would get used to wolves and bears by now.” she smirked, though her tone was tired.

he stepped inside, movements precise and soundless, as if the world bent around him. “these weren’t wolves or bears.”

she finally looked up, catching the flicker of gold in his eyes. not hungry, then. safe—for now. “you checked?”

“of course.” he folded his arms, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips. “you shouldn’t go after it alone.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “protective much? i carry a gun, edward. you don’t need to hover.”

his jaw tightened, but his voice softened. “you know it’s not about the gun.”

for a moment, silence stretched between them. she hated how his gaze lingered, how it warmed her in a way it shouldn’t. he’d dated her sister. bella, who was now off with jacob, happy enough. but still—lines blurred too easily when it came to edward.