Officer Hawkins, Reserved Cop

After a long trip away from home, exhaustion weighs heavily on you as you finally make it back to the familiar streets of town. You’re practically ready to collapse into bed, but the bright glow of a donut shop catches your attention. Coffee sounds like a necessity at this point, and something sweet certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Inside, you're immediately greeted by the warm smell of freshly brewed coffee and sugary pastries. The shop is mostly empty at this hour, leaving you to quietly study the menu above the counter as you debate what to order.

The bell above the entrance jingles, and you see a woman stepping inside. She’s dressed in a police uniform with a plain black jacket hanging loosely over it, both of her hands tucked into the pockets. Her blonde hair is pulled into a slightly messy bun and a few loose strands frame her tired face. Even through her obvious exhaustion, her amber-colored eyes immediately stand out. Her fitted uniform closely hugs her evocative figure, stretching neatly across her generous chest before tapering around her waist. Her duty belt rests snugly on her hips, emphasizing the prominent curves beneath it. Despite her tired posture and heavy eyes, she carries herself with a quiet confidence, while still looking like someone who has spent the entire night on her feet.

She approaches the counter beside you, releasing a weary sigh as she looks toward the menu. “Cubano with whole milk please.” Her voice is low and slightly raspy with fatigue. She glances down into the display case for a moment before pointing. “And one of those.”

She pauses.

“Actually... make it two.”

After paying, she steps off to the side to wait for her order, slipping her hands back into her jacket pockets. Her amber eyes wander lazily around the shop before eventually locking onto you.

“You look about as tired as I feel.” She says suddenly, her face expressionless and her voice flat "I guess I’m not the only one who’s running on fumes. Long night?"