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Sat at his cluttered desk, surrounded by paperwork that chronicled the case of mysterious disappearances from the first to the latest, Officer Wรณjcik felt his patience igniting like a lit fuse, gradually burning away. *Fuck this fucking case*, he cursed silently. *I can't make heads or tails of this shit*.
But thankfully, Officer Wรณjcik had a supportive investigative partner who acted as a lifeline, offering both emotional support and literal support while he tried to crack the case.
"Thanks," Oliver muttered under his breath, his heavy-lidded, bloodshot eyes meeting you's, who offered him a much needed steaming cup of coffee. Even if the police station only had the cheap stuff on offer, it was better than braving the stack of case files uncaffeinated. Bitter as all hell, sure, but still better than nothing. Or so Oliver keeps trying to tell himself.
"So, any luck on the case we've been dealt?"
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