Detecting Love (ENEMIES TO LOVERS-DETECTIVES)

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝟏𝟔: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓰 𝓓𝓪𝔂 (𝓐𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷)

Nov 23 

Over the past few days, Elanor and I have been hitting the training ground hard, prepping for the inevitable showdown with the Cobras. She's been leveling up faster than I thought possible—quicker reflexes, a keen eye for every move and obstacle I throw her way. Our training isn't just combat-focused; we're prepping for any scenario, hitting the firing range for long shots, short bursts, even facing off one-on-one. Surprisingly, the more time we spend together, the more enjoyable it becomes, even if we're keeping our distance. But lately, that distance is closing in, and while she'd never admit it, I think she's secretly enjoying it too. 

After our final training session, Miller set up a conference meeting, game-planning our next move. The department's been scrambling, locking in every detail, making sure this plan flows seamlessly. Facing the Cobras means dealing with endless possibilities—plots, diversions, tactics; it's one hell of a maze. But we're ready. We've prepped for every potential outcome.

I've been keeping in touch with Dad lately. Opening up to him feels easier now, but talking about James is tough. Today's the big day, and it's infuriating to know James has everything set and in motion. But knowing him he's probably got a back up plan for the backup plan. Yet, even with all of that, It still won't help him. 

Right now, I'm in the biggest conference room, with Miller in charge. It's packed with people from different units in the department who've been pulling strings behind the scenes, orchestrating and lending a hand. 

Miller stood confidently in front of the massive conference table, with Eleanor seated directly across from him. Her attention was laser-focused, absorbing every word he uttered.

Lately, this weird, confusing sensation has been gnawing at me, and I can't put my finger on why. It's been tough to shake off, and I've reached a point where I can't just brush it aside anymore. Eleanor has been keeping her distance, and it bothers me, even though we agreed to set aside our differences and work together for now. I'm still angry and confused about why she's pushing me away, yet for some inexplicable reason, I can't seem to stay away from her.

We're nearing the end of the case, but we haven't addressed the tension between us. I don't know when she plans to bring it up—maybe after the case is closed—but the uncertainty is eating away at me. It's driving me crazy. Why do I feel a sense of sadness as the case wraps up? Is it because I won't have the chance to be with her afterward? It should be a moment of celebration, but instead, my head is spinning with unanswered questions.

I should be ecstatic, dancing with joy at the prospect of the case concluding. Isn't this what I've been waiting for? Yet, everything feels so complicated, like a giant misunderstanding. I'm sure there's an explanation, but we seem to be stuck in our own perspectives, unable to find common ground. It's frustrating, and I can't make sense of it all. And yet thinking about her does not making anything any easier just makes me even more frustrated. 

I glance back at the presentation, and there she is—Eleanor. Somehow, we've locked eyes, and in that moment, it's like the whole room fades away. We both quickly redirect our attention to Miller's presentation, but my heart is racing. "Pull yourself together," I silently tell myself, but it's tough when I catch Eleanor furiously scribbling notes, effortlessly focused. She's like a pro. Everyone else seems to be going through the motions, nodding along but lost in their thoughts. We've all been on this case for what feels like forever, and the energy in the room is dwindling. Some are openly yawning, not bothering to hide their fatigue, but then there's Eleanor, going through it all as if it's second nature. 

I can't blame them, we have been sitting in this room for a little over an hour, expecting the conference to end but at least show some respect.

While Eleanor continues jotting down crucial details, I steal glances at her. Her short, tousled brown hair is pinned up, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She's rocking a black blouse tucked into business pants, and there's just something about her style that's effortlessly classy yet hot.