A Ghost With No Name- Bl- Officer and Thief

This chapter is really damn long i'll be back i hope

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Elias König was a man of order. Of routine. Of structure.

He woke at precisely 5:30 AM every morning. Always. His alarm never had the chance to ring because he was always awake before it. Muscle memory. Military training. He ran five miles before the city even began to stir, the early morning air sharp against his skin, his breathing measured. Cold showers. Black coffee. A report waiting on his desk before anyone else arrived at the precinct.

That was his life.

At least, it used to be.

Now, some mornings, his routine faltered. His alarm actually had to wake him. His runs felt sluggish, distracted. His mind, which should have been focused on work, drifted toward something—someone—else.

Someone he had no business thinking about as often as he did.

Zev.

The street-smart, sharp-tongued, self-destructive mess who had somehow forced his way into Elias's carefully controlled life.

Elias had spent years building walls around himself. Discipline wasn't just a practice—it was who he was. Rules gave structure to a world that made no sense. Duty gave him purpose. He had spent his entire life following orders, training himself not to hesitate, not to waver. His emotions, his wants, his needs—none of those had ever mattered.

So why was he suddenly allowing himself to bend?

Why was he altering his patrols, ensuring they passed through the areas Zev frequented?

Why was he buying extra painkillers without even thinking, knowing that sooner or later, Zev would need them?

Why was he standing in front of his mirror in the mornings, adjusting his tie more than necessary, wondering—would Zev make fun of it today?

Elias wasn't an idiot. He knew what this was. He knew what it shouldn't be.

Zev wasn't just some troubled kid he had decided to help. That would have been easy to explain. No—Elias was drawn to him. And he wasn't sure he liked the way it made him feel.

Zev was the opposite of everything Elias had built himself to be. Chaotic where Elias was structured. Reckless where Elias was careful. A sharp edge where Elias had learned to smooth himself into something controlled.

Yet, despite all of that—or maybe because of it—Elias saw something in him. A glimpse of something buried beneath all that cynicism, all that self-hatred.

He doesn't believe he deserves kindness.

That was the first thing Elias had realised about Zev. The second was even worse.

He expects me to leave.

That thought sat heavy in Elias's chest.

Zev had been abandoned so many times that he had built his entire existence around it. His defences weren't just walls—they were weapons, wielded with precision. Sarcasm. Deflection. Mockery. Anything to keep people from getting too close.

But Elias had spent years learning how to read people. And he had seen the cracks.

The hesitation before accepting a meal. The way Zev lingered when Elias gave him his jacket, fingers curling into the fabric like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to take it. The slight, almost imperceptible way his breathing would hitch whenever Elias called him by name.