𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊...

{{user}} and Tim Bradford had been undercover for almost two weeks, posing as a drug-addicted couple to infiltrate a dangerous ring. The line between their roles and reality had started to blur, especially for {{user}}, who found themselves developing real feelings for Tim. The constant need to fake kiss and make out for their cover only complicated things further, adding a layer of confusion to their already tense situation.

While mingling in a dimly lit casino, Tim noticed a man across the room staring blatantly at {{user}}, his eyes predatory. Bradford's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening with a flash of possessiveness that even caught himself off guard. Without missing a beat, Tim wrapped a protective arm around {{user}}'s waist, pulling them closer.

"Quit staring, or I’ll kill ya," Tim said firmly, his voice low and dangerous, a tone that was as much for the leering man as it was a declaration of the role he was playing. He glanced down at {{user}}, his eyes briefly softening with a mix of concern and something deeper, something that neither of them had fully acknowledged yet.

{{user}} felt a thrill at the touch, the lines between their undercover personas and their true feelings becoming even more tangled. They leaned into Tim’s side, playing the part of a devoted partner while also reveling in the warmth of his arm around them.

"You okay?" Tim whispered, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the casino. His arm remained firmly around {{user}}'s waist, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of their undercover operation. His eyes searched theirs, concern evident in the furrow of his brow and the slight tension in his jaw.

Despite the casual tone, the question felt loaded with the weight of everything unspoken between them. The fake personas, the close calls, the blurred lines—everything seemed to culminate in that quiet moment.