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You had refused to leave your house for two days. That meant "playing hooky" so that you didn't have to go to work, and eating whatever frozen or boxed goodness you had sitting around your kitchen for all of your meals. You didn't feel like seeing or talking to anyone. Any ordinary person would have told you to get over it by now, or that you were overreacting. However, you were (Y/n) (L/n)-- you were known for your ability to overreact about anything and everything.

As you laid in bed staring up at your ceiling, you heard a quiet, but firm knock at your door. You groan in displeasure at the sound, but slowly rise out of bed. You knew that you had to get over your problems eventually, and maybe now was finally the time to do it. You shuffled over your dirty rugs and shaggy carpet and ultimately made it to your front door. You winced as the doorknob shocked you, but you were even more shocked when you saw who it was standing at your doorstep.

"Hello (Y/n)," Connor waved, and Hank pushed him aside.

"Jesus Christ kid where have you been for the past two days?" Hank asked, a hit of anger in his voice, "We have work to do and we need you!"

You almost spoke, and then remembered that you had to pull off being sick. That is what you called into work for, anyways.

"I've just been sick. I think the cold weather's starting to get to me," You said, making your voice sound more nasally. God, how fake you sounded.

"I see," Hank grumbled. "Well, I hope you're feeling better because we've got a new report and we need you for this one."

You sighed, opening your door further to allow them to come in. "Let me get ready then. You're welcome to take a seat inside in the meantime."

You walked into your bedroom and started digging through your drawers of clothes. You needed to pick out a warm outfit to wear. It was November in Detroit, and the weather was starting to drop significantly. You also needed to bundle up in order to keep accurately playing your "sick card."

You ended up choosing an outfit with a big long jacket and a scarf

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You ended up choosing an outfit with a big long jacket and a scarf. You also chose a pair of boots to wear and thick, warm socks to go on underneath them. You debated on wearing a beanie or putting your hair up, and decided on putting it up into a loose ponytail. Sometimes your hair annoyed you when it was down, especially when you were trying to get work done or eat food.

You walked back out into the living room and saw the two boys each doing their own thing. Hank was sitting on your sofa with his eyes closed, probably just trying to get a little bit of sleep before the investigation. Connor, on the other hand, was looking at all of the pictures on the wall behind your TV. It was then you realized how many pictures you had up there. You had pictures of you with family, you with friends, family with family, friends with friends...it made you happy just to see them all. Connor caught you looking at him and you quickly averted your gaze to the TV. You knew that he was smarter than that, though.

"Is this your family, (Y/n)?" He asked quietly, trying not to wake Hank. You walked over to where Connor was standing, and looked at the picture he held in his hand. It was a picture of you, your mom, your dad, and your little brother standing in front of the famous fist sculpture downtown. It reminded you of your first ever visit to Detroit, not knowing that the reason behind the visit was so that you all could get a feel for the city before moving there. In the picture, you stood between your mom and dad, putting a fist into the air like a superhero would. An overly heroic look was plastered across your face. Your little brother was very little in that picture. He sat on top of your dad's shoulders, his chin resting on top of your dad's head. Your mom and dad were both just smiling like the happy couple they were back then. The photo reminded you of better times.

"Yeah, this picture is from my first ever visit to Detroit. We were planning to move here soon after we visited, so my parents decided that we all go together to check the place out. I'm sure you can tell which one is me," You giggled quietly.

"I didn't know you had a brother," He said, looking at the picture some more.

"I usually don't talk about him. I haven't seen him in a long time," You started. "He enlisted into the Navy a few years back after he graduated high school and moved all the way across the country. I haven't heard from him since."

"Oh," Connor sounded guilty as he took the picture back from you, putting it back onto its rightful place on the wall. He took down another picture and showed it to you.

"Who's this?" Connor asked. Inside the small frame was a picture of you from 9th grade before your first high school dance. You believe that it was the homecoming dance, considering that you were wearing a dress without any kind of cover-up. Standing next to you was your friend, Stephen. He was your date for that specific dance, but a few months after that day he announced to you and the rest of your friends that he was gay. You gladly kept going to the dances as friends, however, since neither of you could ever find another date. You smiled at this picture, too.

"That's my friend, Stephen. This picture is from my freshman year of high school when we went to homecoming together," You told him. Connor mouthed an "oh" and looked at the picture with slight confusion.

"Are you two still friends?" He questioned. You laughed at his interest for your personal life. You could almost swear that you saw him blush a little, but you shook that thought away.

"Of course we are. We just don't talk often because of work. We're both always so busy," You continued to laugh at his confused expression. "We aren't together, Connor, if that's what you're confused about. He's not into women." You put it plainly.

He took the picture away from you and put it back on the wall. "You look very nice in that picture, (Y/n)," He compliments, gazing at the picture after putting it back on the wall. "The dress is pretty."

(That's a picture of the dress^^)

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(That's a picture of the dress^^)

You could feel yourself blushing so hard at this moment that you could scream, but you wouldn't dare do that for Hank's sake. You bit your lip. "Stop falling for him, (Y/n)."

"Thank you," You mutter, obviously embarrassed (yet flattered) by his words. "I actually still have that dress. I haven't really grown much since then. That dress actually used to be a little big on me, but I'm sure it fits perfectly now."

"Maybe you should wear it sometime," Connor said, looking away from the picture to look at you.

"Maybe..." You say quietly, looking off to the side. It was really impossible to hide your blush now. Thankfully Connor didn't seem to mind. He walked away from your memorabilia wall back over to Hank, and he shook the lieutenant awake.

"Wake up, Lieutenant. (Y/n) is ready to go," Connor tells him firmly.

Hank wakes with a sudden jolt, snoring loudly as he opens his eyes. His eyes wandered around your house for a moment before settling on you. He sighed in what seemed like relief.

"Let's get going then," Hank said, getting up from your couch and walking out towards his car. Both you and Connor were in tow.

Will You Trust Me? // Connor x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now