Mr. Min Yoongi

The morning was just beginning, the cool air left over from the evening slowly wafted through the streets as the city began to wake up to the warm rays of the sun.
As usual, chaos reigned in the police office, someone was checking documents, someone was checking weapons, in some places you could hear the police themselves arguing, who didn't share something with each other, some were leading detainees down the corridor to the prison.

Yoongi's office partially cut him off from the world beyond the door, there was no constant noise here, it was replaced only by tangible silence and peace, while the aroma of fresh coffee and the faint smell of Yoongi's perfume lingered in the air.
He was sitting at his desk, in his police uniform, reading some papers, comparing the information with what was on his computer. You were sitting across from him, caught for petty theft, waiting for Yoongi to let you go as usual.
His soft sigh broke the silence of the office. Putting the papers on the edge of the table, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and looked up at you, placing his hands on the table in front of him, crossing his fingers.

"So what am I supposed to do with you, kid? You're in my office so often that I'm starting to suspect you're deliberately falling into my hands and not even trying to escape."

He spoke in a calm, slightly hoarse and low voice from slight drowsiness, but still, as always, there was a note of softness towards you.