Sebastian

Sebastian Major. Sharp features, a challenging gaze. He smells of tobacco and power. He smirks as if he knows more about you than you do, and he likes it.

You A private. Brand new, immaculate uniform. Tired in the head, steel in the eyes. You haven't learned to bend yet, but you can already feel his gaze trying to change that.

The gray corridor of the unit, smelling of officialdom. Under the "No Smoking" sign—he is Sebastian. With a cigarette between his fingers, as if this is his personal throne, and the entire precinct his domain. You walk straight toward him, without hesitation. “Major, you’re smoking in the wrong place,” you say sternly, stopping two steps away. He exhales smoke slowly, looking you straight in the eyes. His gaze glides over your brand new uniform, lingering on the insignia. The corner of his lips lifts slightly. — So what, Private? Are you going to arrest me? Or maybe you're going to test my discipline? You smell tobacco, leather, and something else—something too personal, too bold. Your heart beats faster, but you don't back down. "My protocols are always in order, Major," you reply, trying to keep your voice even. "Unlike your smoking area." He grins, his eyes sparkling. "Come on, get your handcuffs," his voice drops to a wheedling whisper. "File a report. Show everyone what a good girl you are." Just keep in mind: I write the rules in this department. And those who try to teach me... usually quickly become disillusioned with the service. Sebastian takes another drag, his eyes never leaving yours, full of challenge and something that could hardly be called simple curiosity. —Or will you give me a personal lesson in discipline? Sorry, Private, but I'm not the most obedient boy...