6:30 am (GMT8)
Sunlight carelessly peaks through the blinds. Already awake, it didn't bother her to feel the warmth of light on her skin. Situated under the covers, laptop on her lap. Amelia typed away at the keys, emerald hues scanning the screen as fast as her fingers moved. Even when not called out into the field, her job was never truly done. Paperwork and documents needed to be signed, other cases tossed or accepted by her department. Being the leader of her own team, consumed most of her free time.
Back when she used to be able to sit and watch the sunset with a cup of tea in her hands. Read a book or watch television. The most simple of things people did everyday: She did not get an ounce of. When she did get the relaxation of sleep, it was riddled with horror filled nightmares. Of the same image, the same scenario. The same deaths, on a constant loop.
Amelia shakes her head, scratching her scalp as her hair messily sprawls over her shoulders and back. Wearing baggy sweatpants and a sports bra.The bags under her eyes, the messy hair, the constant yawning as she worked. It was clear the night before was exactly the same as every other.
The only relaxing this, was the sound of birds chirping outside in the blazing temperature. Fall turned to winter soon enough, and yet the palm trees always felt the blazing warmth of the burning sun.
Her fingers stop: She pauses for a moment, leaning back in her bed. How overworked she seemed to become over the years, but it was her job. Saving lives cost a lot of her spare time to be devoted to work. Sometimes it was worth it, other times she had started too late.
Her fingers begin to type again, squinting at the screen and small lettering appearing. Her vision slightly blurry, she stops. Leaning to her side and picking up her reading glasses. Amelia gently puts them on her face, hanging over the bridge of her nose. Her fingers work against the keyboard again.
All that filled her screen were documents of cases she wished to take on, yet some didn't have the criteria to be accepted. If she could she would help everyone with all of her might, but now that wasn't the case. Running a team invoked a position of choice. Who would get their case looked into first, and who would have to sit on the sidelines.
Amelia hated it, having to decide whose struggles were worth pursuing first. All families were equal in their pain. Losing someone you love at the hands of another, was soul crushing. She understood it, she felt it everyday.That pain would never fade, but she could give those closure. They trusted her with their grief, she would do everything with the power she possessed.
The faint sound of buzzing hits her ears. Pausing her movement, she looks over to her lamp counter. Her phone was buzzing, quickly leaning over to grab her phone. The screen lit up with the contact photo of one caller: Dallas. The photo over his name was of a younger version of the two. Perhaps when she had first come onto the force. Her hair still has bright shades of pink. As if her hair was sweet on its own, cotton candy that children would get at amusement parks. Sometimes, she missed the color.
Dallas was kissing her head, while Amelia's face held a widened pearly white smile. They looked beyond happy, she could remember exactly when the photo was taken. Their celebration after she had graduated from the police academy. That moment was truly a new beginning for her. It was all thanks to him.
Amelia clicks accept on the call, placing the phone to her ear. She adjusts her glasses on her nose, "Dallas.. It's six in the morning. What–"
"Amelia, have you been investigating murders in which the victims come up headless?" Dallas asks, Amelia's eyebrows raising at his question.
"Huh? Well yes, people of many ethnicities and genders have been found headless. They all appear to have–"
"The same tattoo." They speak together, Amelia's eyes widening. Has her case now merged with her partners? She fell silent, waiting for the next statement from the other side of the phone.
"It looks like we may be working together on this. I'll need confirmation from you as the superior of your team to join our forces in the agency."
"Send me the documents via email, and I'll print them out to sign." Amelia states, eyes now fixated on the screen.
"I will, thank you my love." Dallas replies, Amelia clicking onto her emails.
She pauses, "Be safe Linch, I'll be seeing you at the next conference meeting with your team won't I?" She had never expected to join forces with her lovers team, but she knew he had the best of the best in his own department.
"With my team, yes, we'll get our data on our victim to compare to yours."
"Alright, I'll see you soon."
"Oh, and Amelia." Dallas stops her, Amelia raising an eyebrow. "I'd like to take you out tonight, if time allows us." The sincerity of his request causes her eyes to widen slightly. Dates were scarce in their line of work, time was a blessing when they were able to. Her cheeks flush shades of pink, putting her free hand on her cheek. She rubs against her skin, Dallas clearing his throat. "It's been so long since we've been on a date together."
Amelia chuckles at Dallas' slight awkwardness, "Of course Dallas, if neither of us are called lut I'd love to finally go out with my boyfriend." There's a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.
"Do you still get nervous asking me that, Dallas?" Amelia muses, laughing once more.
"Always, you're an exquisite woman. It's like the first time every time it leaves my lips." His words were beyond sincere, and they made her heart flutter within her chest. Amelia's feelings only grew stronger for the agent everyday. They would never fade, he was the one.
"Be safe Dallas, I'll see you soon." Amelia states, "I love you."
"I love you too Amelia, see you soon." With that, she hangs up the phone. Closing her laptop in front of her, she takes her reading glasses off. No more computer, she needed a large break from staring at the bright screen.
Pulling the covers away, Amelia slides out of bed. Placing her feet down on the carpet, standing herself up straight. Surprisingly she had yet to be called out for any sort of crime scene, a rare opportunity.
She walks into her bathroom, opening the closet grabbing a towel. Putting the towel on the sink, she walks over to the bathtub. Turning the faucets, and letting the water run. She grabs onto the solution for her relaxing bath, pouring it with ease into the water. Bubbles begin to form as the water rises slowly, she places the bottle to the side.
Amelia rarely got time to have a bath for herself. Now undressing herself, she was ready to just enjoy the simplicity of bubbles surrounding her. Turning the faucets off, she steps into the tub. Getting comfortable, laying her head back onto the circular edge. She sighs, closing her eyes: Silence, absolutely wonderful. All that was missing was her partner to share in the moment with her. Regardless, it was a blissful experience she wouldn't trade. Even if it only lasts for five minutes.
"Ah finally a moment—" Bliss was too much to ask for, as a sudden crash rings through her home. Eyelids immediately widened, her body sitting up in the water. Looking at the direction of the sound, she stays quiet. Waiting to hear any other sort of sound from the direction.
The crash was not something falling over, it was deliberate. As if someone had broken into her home, broken something to get her attention. Perhaps they didn't even know she was home, this was not something that never happened. Many who got out came after her.
Amelia sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. "..Of peace." A waste of a bath she thought, pulling the cork at the bottom of the tub to drain the water. Quickly getting out of the tub, she grabs the robe hanging up near the sinks. Covering her naked body with the black furry fabric, tying the straps in the front. Amelia wastes no time in leaving the bathroom, going to the side of her bed. Opening the drawer, inside lies a handgun. Something she always kept near her, no matter the situation.
She would not be the capable woman she was, without her trusty weapon at her side. Even without such a device, she was capable of handing herself. Yet with the lingering feeling of greater danger: Her instincts told her to grab it. The way the scene would end, would depend on which way the bullet went.