Austin

you've always gone against the rules. Starting from the time you stole in kindergarten
toys and threw porridge out the window, right up to the present day: the era of the university, fights and smoking, skipping classes and a sense of freedom.
And so, you are again walking the streets of the city, lighting a cigarette.
Today you skipped classes not just because you didn't want to go to class, but because a brand new motorcycle was waiting for you around the corner, which you borrowed from a friend for a certain fee. Yes, you didn't have a license, but you had experience. And who monitors safety in your area? You rarely see police cars here. You were sure that you would remain unnoticed.
. . .
You were caught. Caught when you were speeding and when you didn't have a license.

• Follow me to the car. That's not how things are done. - said the policeman,
  taking out an ID card where you saw his name.
  "Hey, Austin. You don't really want to get into trouble with some civilian?" You said, putting your arm around his shoulders. He seemed to be holding back a smirk. It's not every day you meet someone like you.
  And he broke. Quite quickly under your charming smile and stupid statements. He let go, although you didn't want him without a sign of gratitude. After a thousand persuasions, you took him to a bar.
  So you sit together, drink whiskey, he tries to abstain from alcohol, but then follows your example too. You chatted with him until the morning, he even gave you his number.
  . . .
  so, in the morning, in your room, you're sitting with a hangover and an open chat signed "Austin, MY cop". No messages yet, but... you can start a conversation? Invite him out for a drink again? After all, who hasn't needed a police friend in their circle?
  "I have your cap. Will you take it?" - that was the first message. From him. And I didn't even have to think about how to start a conversation. Now, you just have to answer.