Chicago P.D. [x Reader]

☞I was dumb

Another day at District 21. You're the first one to arrive at work. You make your way to your desk and place yourself gracefully in your chair. You let your eyes roam around the room. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You check your phone again. 8:00 A.M.

You look around the room once more. Jay's table is opposite yours. Papers, pens and different colored files are all scattered all over his table. There's a great difference between your two tables. Yours is organized, everything is color-coded, in its place. There's a framed picture of your family on top of a few books and a few souvenirs from when you were travelling. Your desk has its own touch and it radiates your energy while Jay's table... Its like a tornado struck it. Could that be because he's just a messy person or there's a deeper reason going behind that, you wouldn't know. With the rate your friendship has been growing you could say that in around 20 years or so you could be friends and then you could maybe ask him.

After 7 months of being in the unit you've been at dozen of Antonio's dinners that even his kids call you auntie Y/N now. You're practically Kim's future maid of honour. Everyone loves you. Everything should be perfect but it's not.

Because the one person who you want to love you doesn't even call you a friend.

You shake your head at your stupid brain. You hate that your heart beats faster ever time you see or think about Jay, how butterflies erupt in your belly at the given reasons. "You're an idiot Y/N."

"I didn't realise I wasn't alone," You look up and meet the most beautiful eyes. You stop breathing, you freeze and want to die on the spot. After several long seconds you finally realise that you have been staring. Staring hard. You cough awkwardly, hoping it draws his attention to your coughing and not your...staring.

"I haven't been here for long," You stand up abruptly, your nervousness taking over your actions. Once again you seriously freeze, now you're standing doing absolutely nothing instead of sitting like any other normal person would. You take two deep breaths and walk over to grab a few files. "Do you want a coffee. I was about to get one for-"

"No thanks. I'm good Y/LN," You watch as he sits behind his desk and starts reading through the files. He literally knows where he left off, he easily switches between the papers like a professional. He's ignoring you.

Or maybe he isn't.

Either way it makes you sigh sadly. With a pile of case files you make your way behind your desk. After dumping all the files onto your desk you walk away to get some coffee and get away from whatever the energy you two carried when you were near each other.

"God please give me strength."

***

You hold your gun in front of you and walk through the house. You've been partnered up and ended up going undercover with Jay. You had to pretend you were together so you can get some insides about the criminals you've been chasing. You constantly keep reminding yourself that that was all an act. A task.

But how could you possibly forget that? Jay had his hands all over you, showing off his acting skills. It felt so right to have him against you like that - an act or not. But that wasn't Jay. That was detective Halstead on a mission because if you're sure about one thing then you're sure about the fact that Jay Halstead, the man you like, wants nothing to do with you.

Slowly, you push the last door open. The room is clear but just like you did with every other room you walk in to check it thoroughly. Three steps in and someone tackles you to the ground. Your gun falls out of your hands and you sigh. Dammit.

The man on top of you is at least 4 times your size. He's a block of muscle that's covered fully and thoroughly with tattoos. He strikes for your nose but you manage to evade the punch, instead you bring your head to his and slam it as hard as you can. You ignore the literal ringing in your head and get to your feet. The man let's out a war cry and grabs your legs pulling you down, he reaches for his pocket and pulls out a small gun. You use your delicate hand and punch him square in the face, it takes him off guard but not enough to stop him from finishing his business. Instead of shooting at your chest, because of his disorientation caused by your punch he pulls the trigger out of nowhere and the bullet lands into your leg.