disgracedchief-blog

[disgracedchief-blog]

liedetect:

                     how was her day? long. boring. and then, unbelievable. her shoulders are bony and squared when leaned over the sink, washing off grease on her hands from hours of preparation. his food must be freezing by now. she’d finished hers half an hour ago. her tone is a touch cold, a touch apathetic, or a touch something he’s never heard before. she doesn’t turn around to face him and that should be his first indication that something is wrong. ‘ we need to talk. ’

     he looks remarkably like a boy suddenly  –––  his posture slouching, his expression sheepish  –––  as though a combination of the two might do well to protect him from the onslaught of criticism that he is sure is coming. he plays the part of the remorseful boyfriend well. it’s a palm on the flat of her abdomen and another curving at her hip and his mouth hovering at the crook of her neck as though waiting for a permission, his breath ghosting across her skin in the meanwhile.  “ what is it? ”

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     “ sorry i’m late  ––––  nah, see, it wasn’t my fault, honest  ––––  came straight from a call, but i’m here now. ”  he’s dropped into his chair unceremoniously and somewhat breathlessly, waving off her concerns before she has a chance to voice them, tugging his napkin into his lap and taking a deep swig from his wine glass. warm. is wine meant to be warm? doesn’t matter.  “ how was your day? ”

@liedetect has no idea how much i love her

[disgracedchief-blog]

     “ you need any help, ma’am? ”  he’s got a hand on the rusted roof of her truck and concern pulling at his expression as he glances over his shoulder. it’s late  ––––  far too late for a lady to be lingering at the edge of town, and neil tells her as much with a dip of his head and a tap of his thumb on metal.  “ i think it might be best you get on home. ”

@strxnzo liked for a starter

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     “ jaylah, we talked about this. you’ve gotta keep your shit quiet so that i can keep your shit quiet. ”

@gothamcartel liked for a starter

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     “ are you kidding me? ”  a beat in which he waits for affirmation that does not come and then he is leaning forward in his squeaking chair, hands folding atop the worn, oversized wooden desk that sat prominently in his office.  “ that’s the rate. we talked about this. ”

@worldsaflame liked for a starter

[disgracedchief-blog]

ok but what if you liked this for a small starter

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A SEMI-SELECTIVE PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR OC WRITTEN BY COURTNEY