Can’t Help It | Antonio Dawson x Reader (Chicago PD)
summary: You never expected flowers to be delivered to you. You weren’t one for girlish things, for goodness sake you were a cop who liked strapping a gun more so than clicking into heels. With this, it’s a pleasant surprise when you are delivered flowers not once, not twice, but three times in the span of a week. For Antonio, your partner and the guy who definitely did not have feelings for you, its more suspicious.
You stare at empty board, the lack of thumbtacked pictures a rare sight. This was the Intelligence Unit. There was always a case. Sometimes you thought the crimes rolled in like such clockwork you could have a TV show.
With the clear board, you were sure to get cancelled.
You didn’t want anything up there. The first piece of evidence or any sort of lead usually meant someone was dead. You didn’t wish that at all.
The sight just made you uneasy.
Work wasn’t supposed to be mundane. You were supposed to be constantly thinking. Gears shifting as you tried to catch up with whatever or whoever you were after.
Drug cartels. Sex trafficking. Gang related violence.
It made its way to this board. And you sure as hell always found your way back to it.
The sound of a phone brought you back. The rough voice of your partner cueing in that your team was up to bat.
You looked to Antonio, your arms crossed, half your mind still on the blank panel, for answers.
Even fewer leads sat with him, his face stone cold and unreadable. That was weird. After working together for years, literally saving each others lives (after nearly losing each other one or twice) you could always read Dawson. His quiet demeanor was easy for you to pick up on, you yourself one to speak without words. You thought the time spent wordlessly communicating - either over beers at Molly’s or the barrel of your gun prior to a riot - would help you figure out who was on the other end of the phone.
His eyes met yours, a low ‘mhm’ escaping his lips before he let the receiver clack gently against its holder. “Delivery for you.”
Ruzek called after you, your last names barely heard as you skipped down the steps to meet whoever was at the cage entrance.
“Didn’t order anything.” You called before lowering your voice. “Especially nothing I’d get sent here.”
Your mind wandered to the Wine of the Month club you just subscribed to, and for a second you started believing Adam that you really had fumbled the address. But upon opening the cage door to see a patrolmen standing with your package, you knew you definitely didn’t mess up.
You told the officer just that, laughing at the sick joke it was. Sergeant Platt was having none of it, yelling up at you (without so much as lifting her gaze from her desk), “Take the goddamn flowers.”
So you did. You awkwardly and begrudgingly, took the goddamn flowers.
The goddamn flowers that had you sneezing upon arriving back in the bullpen.
A low whistle from Kevin was heard despite the allergy response. You didn’t know which one had caught the attention of the entire squad. Honestly, you didn’t know which was worse.
“Nobody give me that look.” You spat, concluding it was neither whistle nor wheeze that had everyone curious. Rather it was you, dressed in dark jeans and an ever darker long sleeved shirt, holding a budding bouquet of bright yellow-
“Are those sunflowers?” Jay asked, leaning closer to take a look.
“Yes.” You huffed, setting down the gift like it was a bomb. That’s what it felt like. Like any second something was going to go off. 3....2...
“Who got you flowers?!?” Adam buzzed, jumping up to peer at the present.
“No one.” You quickly said, hating this. Hating the attention. The attention brought on by some stupid-
“Nice greenery.” Voight said from his classic perch of leaning against the door of his office.
At the sight of your boss you gulped. You were chummy enough with him but knew even he wouldn’t appreciate a dispute over something as stupid as this.
So you took a breath, smiled, and agreed with him. “Yeah, nice.” You peered at the object in question...just like you would a suspect.
Jay called you out on it, coming to look at it beside you. He hip checked you. “Whose it from?”
“There’s usually a card someone.”
You looked over your shoulder at Antonio whose attention now seemed completely enthralled with his computer. You knew for a fact there was nothing on there of importance. if there was, he wouldn’t be asking about flowers. Flowers you never would have gotten because you wouldn’t be here but rather out on the case that filled that goddamn blank board.
“You a frequent customer of ‘Ode a la Rose’, Dawson?” Ruzek asked, coming up on the other side to look at the business ribbon tied to the vase.
“No.” You titled your head at your partner who quickly avoided eye contact after looking up for a mere second. He clicked away, his mouse suddenly much louder to you. “But I know a bouqet of flowers when I see one.”
That had you rolling your eyes back to the problem at hand.
You really didn’t know where to start, that is until Voight walked right up and plucked the paper envelope from between the....blooms? Was that they were called?
Reading your mind Jay and Ruzek leaned in at the same time, whispering, “Buds.” in your ears.
You sighed, watching them return to their desks before opening up the letter.
You don’t know why you needed a breath but you did. It was all so bizarre. Remembering your boss’ words, the very ones you had agreed with, you concluded it to be nice. Nothing less and nothing more.
The card certified that, its blankness leaving the mystery solved.
“What’s it say?” Kevin asked from across the aisle as you sat down in your chair.
“Nada.” You replied, tossing into the bin at your feet.
“Yeah, right.” Antonio said, standing up and crossing the room. When he went to dive through the can beneath your desk you rolled away, the invasion of space surprising.
What was more surprising, the look of jealousy you swore you saw on his face.
Again, your guess was confirmed when Jay asked if Antonio was jealous somebody else was congratulating me on a case well solved before he could.
You didn’t like what Jay said but it was better than clutching onto a defensive statement with no proof. You were a detective. Couldn’t argue with evidence. And Antonio storming over to dig through trash...pretty convincing.
“I told you, I’ll take a free beer over flowers any day.” Your hand graced your partners arm. It stole his attention from the empty paper he was analyzing, his eyes finding yours for a moment. The way they raced across your face, taking you in like someone he was saving, crushed you.
More than that, it terrified you. Because it seemed to terrify Antonio.
You sneakily took the note from his hand, shaking your head with a light laugh. You were hoping he didn’t notice how forced it was because you really couldn’t sit here one more second with him looking at you like that. Worrying you. Terrifying you.
“It’s all good. Probably just some appreciation for your girl.”
You had stood at this point, reaching around to dump the flowers but your hand was caught. Antonio met your gaze, his tongue quickly wetting his lips in thought. A million things went through his head before he plucked the note from you.
“Keep em. Till I get you that beer.”
You watched him walk away, your eyes tearing away when you heard Adam cracking another joke about how sunflowers resembled your bubbly personality. When you slapped his head in warning you chanced another glance at your partner.
Sauntering down the hall a flash of white caught your eyes.
The once pristine note, white as day, was now crumbled in his hand. You watched it soar into a nearby trashcan, hitting the rim and bouncing onto the floor. The slam of the cage, announcing the exit of your partner, couldn’t even take your eyes away.
Molly’s atmosphere would always put you in a good mood. There was nothing like sitting with your colleagues, amongst the other servicemen and women of Chicago, after a long day.
You hadn’t even made it to the bar when Otis called your name, waving you over.
Leaving Ruzek and Kevin to chat it up with some of the Firehouse 51 guys, you made your way through the throngs of people.
“What’s up?” You asked over the cheers of a home run being hit.
“You tell me.” The fireman said, a suggestive tone on his lips.
You turned to your coworkers, now joining you, shrugging your shoulders. Their equally confusing looks send you repeating the action back at him. Even then, its hard to force up your arms in chagrin when theres an icy feeling down your back.
The Russian fireman rolled his eyes before disappearing below the bar. Your head tipped forward to follow only to bounce back at his sudden reappearance. Its not his dark curly hair that scares you, but rahter the bright array of...flowers.
He placed it on the counter with a thud. Identical in nearly every way to the vase gifted to you two days ago, the only difference is that the blossoms have grown. Double the amount of stems sit in the square jar.
The aroma of spring met your nose despite the smells of the bar. Mixed with beer and greasy food, your lunch is prepared to make a reappearance.
But its the sight of Antonio, followed closely by Jay, that sends the meal back down. You have to gulp it down again when he gets closer, the look of anger directed towards the flowers, terrifying you once again.
“You got to be kidding.” Jay mumbled, tracing over the business seal.
“When did you get these?”
The men around you fire out questions but none of them register. You’re always one to investigate but never before had you been so involved. Never before had you been the lead.
You liked the board empty. You’d take a clear slate and nothing to do over thumbtacking your own picture up any day.
Antonio tried to find your eyes, silently communicate among the raising volume of the bar, but you ignored them. There’s something to be said. But you don’t have the words.
The message envelope does.
You ripped through the flowers, tossing stems and wrecking the beauty of the gift, until you find what you’re looking for.
A gasp escaped your lips once you’ve read it, your head following to hang low.
“What’s it say?” Someone asked. You didn’t catch who, the neatly typed and printed words consuming everything in you.
Someone grabbed it but you release the words into the air before they can be read again.
If you could’ve stopped them you would. No one else should have had to read those chilling words. No one except you.
And your detective friends.
“I scent you this.” You looked up at Antonio, his brows furrowed as they came up from the note. “Can’t wait to watch you wilt.”
“We’ve got a gardener on our hands.”
Your head slowly turned to Otis, innocent and unknowing Otis, who thought it all to be a cute little love note.
“More like a weed killer.” A faux smile found your lips right before your eyes found the door, your feet following quickly.
The hot summer air was less of an escape than you’d have hoped. Still, you pushed on, farther from the bar and the noise and the people and everything.
Your arm was caught just before a passing car took you out, sucking you back into the real world.
Antonio’s eyes, the fullest of concern you’d ever seen them, sent you pushing him back. You’d take reality but not from him. Not right now.
“Let my pedals fall, won’t you, Dawson?”
“No.” His hands found my arms, my bare skin burning. There was no anger in his action. If anything you were producing the heat, frustrated beyond belief.
Antonio saw it, squeezing gently to bring you back. You couldn’t the strain breath that you released.
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“Women don’t send flowers.” You deadpanned. You took a step back upon seeing the rest of your coworkers stirring a few feet away. They held a respectable distance but some things just needed to be said - partner to partner.
And boy were some things about to be said.
Cops had no on and off switch. Their minds were always in investigation mode. You were your lead, your evidence, your victim, your everything.
And you felt like you couldn’t even breathe at the moment.
“He’s in my head, man.” The crack in your voice scared you but you pressed down the fear, going straight up to your partner. Chest to chest you tapped a finger on his temple. “He’s in my head and I can’t help it.”
“You’re in his and I can’t help that.” Antonio huffed.
You didn’t know who was more upset with the situation - you or him.
But that’s what partners were for. To have your back. Even when you didn’t have your own.
The thought of Antonio guarding you, unattended and unfocused, had you shaking your head.
It wasn’t right. None of this was.
You told him just that. To which he tried whispering your last name not as your partner but as your friend. You could tell by the way he said your first name...something he never did.
Desperate times, desperate measures.
“Save your detective work for the office.” A choked laugh escaped you as you slipped by him, heading towards Kevin. “Something tells me this is just poor planning on some gardener’s part.”
The flower puns had been over ages ago. They never really had a place at all.
But again....desperate times, desperate measures. Dark humor was your desperation.
You plucked the flowers from Adam’s arms, meeting his eyes with a nod.
You heard Jay say your name but it was no use. If Antonio couldn’t get through to you, it’d take Voight. And your boss never frequented this establishment at this hour.
Like you would hear him over the buzzing. You wanted to believe a bee was enjoying your unexpected gift but you knew that wasn’t true. The only thing ringing was your heart, beating faster than ever before.
You turned on your heel, only dropping your “I’ve Got It All Together” smile when you threatened them not to follow you. It wasn’t until you got home did it all fall apart, the vase crashing to the ground. The only reason you didn’t hear it was because of Antonio’s voice in your head.
He meant it like he couldn’t help but worry.
But combined with the concern he radiated, you thought your suspicions to be true.
He couldn’t help. No one could.
Your hand hurt from clutching your gun in your sleep.
At the thought of how pathetic that was, you flexed your fingers before shaking them out to study the card.
The wording, the gift, everything, really nothing, made sense.
You had racked your brain for cases that it could connect to. It wasn’t uncommon to be tracked down by former...clients.
Your job was to put people in jail. Jail wasn’t always a life long sentence. Finding you, the person who’d put them there, could possibly be a life long commitment.
The knock of your door made you freeze. You weren’t able to pinpoint a crime that could lead to threats in the form of flowers but you were able to recognize that knock anywhere.
A confirmation through the peephole had you standing with your hand on your hip as Antonio walked into your apartment.
He rambled on and on, jumping between the points of the mysterious flower deliveries and how there was no way you were going to let him stop from figuring this out. On a tangent about your lack of respect to the Senior Detective of the unit (a title he only used when he wanted authority) you wrapped your arms around him.
Suddenly your outburst against the second in command didn’t matter, his own arms looping around your lower back.
“You look like shit for having slept in your car outside my place.”
His chuckle vibrated through you - the sound the most pleasant thing you had heard since entering Molly’s over 12 hours ago. Since then it had been your partner yelling at you and the eery silence of your apartment.
Neither were a match for Antonio’s laugh.
Which, speaking of, quickly died out as he gave you a once over. You could hear the quip on the tip of his tongue, how the bags under your eyes made him think you spent the night in the passenger seat, but it never came.
All that stayed was the worry in his eyes. You wiped your hands over them, forcing them closed. “Don’t look at me like that.” You whispered.
Without moving he replied, “When this is fixed, I’ll stop.”
“Then keep them closed.” You headed toward the couch, heaving a sigh and setting your head on the wall. “I can’t figure it out.”
“What do you think I’m here for?” You felt the couch dip beside you, the weight shifting as Antonio looked over the files sprawled on your coffee table. After a moment you joined him, your eyes quickly glazing over at the papers you’d practically memorized.
“Had he sent some blood or common drug I would’ve pinned him.” You waved a hand over the evidence. “I’ve got nothing.”
“You have to, or else you wouldn’t know who he was.”
“You do.” He interrupted, a hand finding your knee. He’s quick to remove it, clearing his throat and referencing the table again. “We’re cops. We know more than we think.”
You sighed, wanting to agree but not seeing enough evidence to do so.
You were linking the whole ordeal to cotton candy (somehow) when someone else knocked on the door. You didn’t even bother standing, knowing Antonio (who had been on watch all night) wouldn’t let you answer it.
So you weren’t surprised at all when he returned, the rest of the squad entering.
“Still picking petals?” Kevin asked.
“He kills you, he kills you not.”
Adam’s joke impressed no one, his hands flying up defensively. “We not in the mood for jokes or what?”
“We’re not.” Voight’s voice run out strong. It both reassured you and frightened you. This all was so odd. How everyone was here. Except the guy tracking you down.
“No jokes when one of our own is on the line.”
“Line.” You mumbled, the word sticking with you.
“What is it?” Jay asked, crouching down in front of you. It was his classic, “witness remembers something” action, which you didn’t appreciate. There was no time to blow him off, tell him you weren’t a victim in this, because you were just getting somewhere.
Antonio caught on, shoving Jay away for you.
You didn’t even need to say thanks, silently communicating it without as so much as a look.
“What did you say Adam?” You stood, heading towards your bookcase.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to repeat-”
“Say it again.” You insisted turning from the shelf for a mere moment to give him a look. “Please.” You said, your tone lighter.
“He kills you, he kills you not?” He mused, avoiding eye contact with Voight.
“That’s a bad line, man.” You heard Kevin say under his breathe.
“Exactly.” You excited, grabbing the book you were looking for.
“Exactly what?” Antonio came up beside you, his eeys darting between the page and your face. You said nothing - out loud or silently - which he impatiently couldn’t wait for. “Exactly what?”
“Exactly this.” You pointed to the page. “He loves me, he loves me not.”
Confusion and what appeared to be fear raced across Antonio’s face. Jay asked if you could fill him in before you got a chance to question your partner’s response to your revelation.
“A line from a case.” You went on to say, heading back toward the table. “There was a guy at the University of Chicago, posed as an English major, sucked girls with the whole ‘I’ll read you poetry’ thing.”
Papers were flying everywhere and Kevin was trying to keep them in order, that is till Antonio started digging with you.
“I know this one. He brought girls in and then,”
“Raped and murdered them. Leaving nothing but a note that said,”
“He loves me, he loves me NOT,” Voight answered, remembered. the case he handed over to you and Antonio.
“He definitely did not.” You stood, file in hand. “He left that line and-”
You looked up to Antonio, his gaze pointed at the pile of what was your second bouquet, sitting in the dustpan where you left it when you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it out.
His eyes found yours after a moment and you couldn’t help but smile. You had solved it.
Of course, you had solved it three years ago.
Jay reminded you of that point when he took a look at the report.
“The clues he’s leaving aren’t keeping him too well hidden. Why send the cop who put you away flowers?” Kevin spectated.
“Paid in cash.” Adam added, rubbing his chin in thought. “Might want a chase.”
“Who leaves a calling card like that and wants a chase?” Voight pondered.
“He’s not the one being chased.” You said, the room quieting from the many guesses being vocalized. “I am.”
The knock of the door piqued everyone’s interest, each head whipping towards it. Then you all looked at each other. No one else who needed to be here wasn’t.
Antonio connected those dots first, undoing his gun from its holster and walking towards the door.
It was no point for him to ask who was there. You already knew.
You just made it to see the delivery boy, eyes wide as Antonio pointed the barrel at him.
You took the smallest of steps forward, further intimating the boy and causing the vase to drop. Triple the size of the first one, flowers spewed everywhere, a white card sliding across the floor to your feet.
You bent down, opened it and read it silently. When you looked back up at Antonio you couldn’t help the words that escaped.
“He’s not asking to be found. He’s already picked me out from the bunch.”
I wanna smell you. Just you. You don’t bloom, you lose it all.
The last part of the note didn’t need to be repeated in your head. Not when you were there right at that moment.
Lurie Garden looked beautiful on the Spring Saturday. Lavender wafted through the air and all colors spread through the field. The Bean was barely visible over the high walls. If you stood in the penny fountain you wouldn’t have been able to see 20 feet into the greenery. Not with the spurts of bushes that traveled higher and higher the further into the season.
3 Pm was peak time. Little kids ran around, parents following quickly. You had spotted more than one older couple, walking through the fields to literally smell the roses.
Like on every other OP, you thought of if you’d get there. Make it through this.
Good cops were good people. And no good person walked into a dangerous situation without playing with the idea that they wouldn’t see the light of the next day.
Your eyes found the sun, beating down on you. When you couldn’t take it any longer your refocused, finding the very couple that sparked your philosophical train fo thought. A green ring formed around them from the light exposure. They looked angelic. Happy. Perfect.
“Everything looks perfect.”
You toed the gravel, Ruzek’s voice loud and clear in your ear piece. No one had said much the last 15 minutes you spent waiting for your guest.
Mark Cameron, ever the ‘fake’ student, was running late for class.
Only you would be penalized, though, if you slipped up.
The kid, no college graduate, was still smart. When you’d busted him he had a barely alive girl in his arms. When unarming you he called out every weapon.
Hence your lack of protection right now.
No gun. No knife. You didn’t even have the pin you wore for highly specialized ops, its edge sharper than any pocketknife you could’ve snuck into your pant leg.
“You’re going to be fine.”
You turned halfway before stopping yourself. Antonio’s voice hadn’t come form your ear piece but rather behind you. Posing as a fellow garden goer, he stood the other way, admiring the monkshood you just looked at (15 minutes had given you plenty of time to read up on the plants. That and you needed something to do other than wait).
He was effortless when it came to undercover ops. So it took everything in you not to tell him he was blowing it. Cameron could show up any second. Antonio knew this. Never one to break protocol it wasn’t right to see him doing just that.
“Let’s hope.” You breathed, bending down to smell.
“He’s not in your head. I can’t help you if you’re in yours.”
You didn’t respond - not knowing what to say as well as gettin interrupted by COMMS.
“Cameron just entered the North East corner.”
Kevin went on giving description - jean jacket, information packet in hand, etc. - but you didn’t care.
You remembered that sweet couple without a care in the world and you needed to see Antonio once more. You needed to believe him he’d help. You needed your partner.
“Thought you might need this, honey.”
Cameron’s voice was icy in your ear. You fought the urge to grimace, instead smiling up at him and accepting the garden sheet he was extending to you.
“Thanks. Was dying to know what smelled so bad.”
“So you say.” He whispered directly into your ear piece. “What do they think?”
Jay mumbling something foulw as cut off as Cameron picked apart the tech. You couldn’t help but slam your ear into your shoulder, his touch radiating goosebumps off of you. The exposed movement was worth it when you caught no sight of Antonio - who had thankfully cleared the area.
There was no one in your row. No one you could really see either with the sloped ground and the high stalks of greenery.
You hoped your team had you. You knew they did. It was just hard to believe when you didn’t have yourself.
Cameron had found you. Found a way into your work and your bar and your home. More than that, he found his way into your head. And Antonio would never admit it but Cameron got into his too.
Partners. Had each other’s backs but also had each others brains.
You hoped Antonio’s wasn’t as corrupted as your felt right now.
“I told you to come alone.”
The stomp of his foot on the ear piece emitted a high pitched frequency just loud enough for you to catch.
Your lips formed a straight line as you told yourself not to panic. Something about you being the target made this op different. You cared about victims more than you did yourself - evident in the way you put your life on the line.
But this...this focus on you, on your friends, made breaking up a drug cartel seem like heaven.
Being here, with Cameron, even in a beautiful field of flowers, was actual hell.
“You know, I’d make some cruel joke about no flower growing alone but I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”
Cameron pretended to weigh the options. Coming to a decision a sick smile grazed his face before his hand found your hip. It hurt, a pressure point being hit, but you didn’t let it show.
“Good choice. Makes you love you a bit more.”
His eyes wandered to the flower I was still gripping, its orange petals crumpling with the tense hold I had on it. His own hands found one near by, picked it and brought it up to my nose. His brows raised, asking me to pluck a petal. I did as told just as he said, “Or love you not.”
You spun around to the voice, only having his hand grip into you harder at the sight of a park ranger approaching.
“You can’t pick the flowers, sir.”
“My fault!” Cameron chuckled, his neck settling on your shoulder. Again, he put more force than necessary, your collarbone taking the brunt of it. “My girlfriend here wanted to see if I still loved her not. You know the rhyme.”
The ranger gave a tight smile, clearly weary. She shook off the feeling, going back into work mode. “I’m going to have to write you a warning.”
You attempt at reconciliation was lost as Cameron pressed his hand and neck harder into you - equal points of pain rolling through. He was all bone and it hurt like hell.
“That won’t be necessary,” He leaned forward, bringing you with him. “Jan.”
“Sir, it’s policy of the park not to-”
This was going all sorts of wrong.
No ear piece. This ranger. A much more aggriavted Cameron than you wanted.
Maybe this was it. Your final chance to smell the roses.
“You need to leave, now.” Th ranger said, summoning the most authority she could in her voice. Cop or not you could see her wavering.
You could also see a crowd forming. Nothing interested tourists quite like a public conflict.
The ranger stepped forward, clutching what you assumed was a baton.
Cameron, ever one to see something for more dangerous than it was, though it a gun, and was quick to pull his own out.
Where else could it go than up against your head.
He held a firm choke hold, tossing you around as you showed the neely joined audience exactly what you had. It was all it took for your team to come out, their own guns blazing.
Screams. People running. Dust picking up.
You wished for the smallest deliver of flowers. No mess. No note.
You stayed strong, though. You knew there was more coming.
“All so protective of your girl when a guy sends some roses, huh?” Cameron asked Kevin and Ruzek, whipping you around to talk to both of them.
Now you understood why no hostage felt safe in this moment. Guns pointed at you. Words their first line of defense.
This wasn’t help, you wanted to tell Antonio. This was a placeholder for help.
“Yeah, right.” Cameron snarled. His nose inhaled your scalp, posseviley claiming you. “She smells like mine.”
Threats were repeated. Voight and Al and Jay appeared. All who was missing was your partner.
And without your partner you weren’t you.
You closed your eyes, hating this. Hating this because it wasn’t right. Antonio should be here. Having your back. Helping.
So you did what any cop would do. You proved you were than just your partner or your team or your badge.
You opened your eyes, now facing the fountain just a few rows ahead. In it you barely saw your reflection. if the image of you being held wasn’t enough to spark something, the shadowy person just past you was.
In one swift moment you hit Cameron’s instep, freed your hand, twisted his shooting hand, which caused him to fire into the fields, and threw him over your back, made him hit the ground and had you pinning him down.
The next thing you knew there was a gun, another one, pointed mere inches from his face. You didn’t need to look up the leather jacket arm to know who it was. So you didn’t. Not until Kevin stood Cameron up and Ruzek handcuffed him.
That’s when you turned to Antonio. Fell into his arms. Breathed the scent of the flowers for the first time.
He whispered encouragement to you, assuring you were fine, saying how horrible that guy would suffer.
None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. You were ready to say that after you pulled back to look at him when his eyes found the ground. With you still firmly held in his arms he reached down, a cheap connivence store bouquet of flowers in his hands.
You couldn’t help the choked laugh that escape you
“Thought this might be better than the beer. Ya know, for catching the guy.”
You accepted the gift that had fallen out of Cameron’s grasp, tilting your head. “Yeah, but you helped.”
Antonio shrugged, forcing the flowers out of your hand as he brought you closer.
