Short Stories: The Investigator's Way to Use Gossip to Their Own Benefit [Sebastian Version]

This story is an alternative version of the morning scene from Chapter 3, Part 1. In this version, instead of making a phone call, Sebastian visits in person, thus avoiding the drama that unfolds later in the story.

I feel like this is something Sebastian would absolutely do but didn't—thanks to a certain someone (me) keeping him on a 'plot leash'.

Early in the morning, in the department's lobby…

As you enter the department, the soft, persistent hum of voices and ringing phone lines greet you, and a wave of fatigue washes over you instantly.

You sigh. It's going to be a long day.

Since rumors about the third murder began to spread, the station has been overwhelmed with calls about "possibly" missing persons—many of whom turn out to have simply stayed out for the night or neglected to notify their families.

You realize that people are worried, but it only adds to the workload, not just for the officers, but for you as well. As if dealing with the CID and the ongoing investigation weren't already enough.

The department really needs a second detective, you think tiredly, instantly feeling the pang of bitterness that the thought brings with it. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you force yourself to stay focused and keep moving.

As you're about to move further in, you spot a familiar, very tall figure leaning casually against the counter and chatting with the receptionist.

Investigator Goldstein? What's he doing here?

Your eyes shift to the receptionist, who is giggling sweetly at something he says with a barely perceptible smirk.

Oh, great, you think, tensing up involuntarily as you realize Sebastian is talking to one of the biggest department's blabbermouths.

It doesn't matter, you remind yourself, slowly walking towards Sebastian. Maybe he has found something about the investigation.

Before you can fully approach, as if sensing your presence, Sebastian turns to look at you.

"Ah, Detective..." He straightens up, his long hair falling over his shoulders as he turns back to the receptionist. "It's been a pleasure, but I must excuse myself. I have..." He glances at you with almost predatory intensity. "...some business to attend to."

"Investigator Goldstein," you greet him, watching as he casually closes the distance between you and stops just a step away. "I don't recall us having any business scheduled for today."

Sebastian's smirk widens. "Greeting me so coolly after a week apart? Don't tell me you're not happy to see me."

"That depends on what you say," you reply, keeping your tone even.

You're happy to see him again after a week—or maybe even more than happy—but you don't want to get your hopes up about the new details of the investigation.

Sebastian hums, his gaze flickering over you briefly—too quickly for it to mean anything—but when his eyes meet yours again, your heart skips a heavy beat.

"You're a sight for sore eyes. Even more than I remembered," he says, his voice growing hoarse by the end. "Was that enough to make you happy?"

Despite you know he is just teasing, a soft flutter spreads through, making it hard to stay composed. Yet, alongside this pleasant feeling is a strange, almost intrusive discomfort, and it takes a moment for you to understand why.

Your eyes drift past him, noticing the receptionist he was speaking with earlier glaring at you, their eyes fixed on you with a look of unmistakable disdain.

When you give them a blank stare, they quickly glance away, their expression resembling a poor attempt to feign indifference.

Ugh…

Turning back to Sebastian, you notice he's followed the direction of your gaze. He parts his lips to speak, but you cut him off by grabbing his sleeve and pulling him aside, away from the uncomfortable attention.

"I meant about investigation," you say, releasing his sleeve.

He sighs, his tone laced with playful boredom as he replies, "I do have to discuss something, but it won't take long."

Your face falls in disappointment. So he hasn't learned anything new.

"Oh no, detective, don't make that face…" Sebastian's velvety, deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. "Otherwise, my imagination might start coming up with all sorts of ways to make up for the disappointment I've caused."

As he speaks, you catch a few curious glances from passing employees.

You suppress a tired sigh. "Look... If you have something to discuss, we'd better do it in my office."

Sebastian tilts his head slightly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "You want me all to yourself in your office? How flattering."

The renewed intensity of his gaze flares up, and you find it harder and harder to resist the effect he has on you. But you remind yourself that you're on the job.

"It's a protocol," you remind him, making an effort to keep your calm despite the heat his unwavering gaze ignites within you. "Discussing sensitive information where it might be overheard could compromise the investigation."

But trying to stay calm is useless. You can see it in the darkness of his eyes: this man sees right through you and takes pleasure in watching how his presence affects you.

"So devoted to your work," he murmurs teasingly, leaning in closer. "But I doubt that's the only reason."

The scent of his cologne envelops you as his pitch-black eyes lock onto yours with such intensity that it amplifies all the emotions stirred by his proximity.

Despite knowing it would be best not to indulge his amusement, you, unable to help yourself, still ask, "And what other reason might there be?"

Sebastian chuckled, the deep, honeyed sound of his laughter clearly signaling his pleasure with your curiosity.

"I think you're simply wary of prying eyes," he begins, slowly reaching out towards you. "Or, should I say, rumors?"

His fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, the touch searing through the fabric of your clothes before trailing down to rest on your forearm as he continues, "Isn't that right, Detective?"

You see his gaze shift to the side, and even though he can't see the receptionist behind him—and the others who have joined them—watching you closely, he's making it clear that he is acutely aware of everything happening around you.

"Do you know why they talk about you?" he asks, shifting his gaze back to you. "Because you never reveal what they expect to see. People thrive on speculation, but once they uncover the truth, their interest fades quickly."

Sebastian leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he asks with defiance, "Want me to prove I'm right?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to his lips before reluctantly returning to his gaze.

You remind yourself that you're at work and shouldn't give in to this attraction, especially given how little you know about each other.

But you don't need to know him to enjoy his presence.

"No? It seems I need to be more convincing," he says, his voice carrying an unmistakable hint of something more. "The truth is, I came here just to invite you to a business dinner, but… I find it hard to stick to just business with you, Detective. I know myself; I'll want more."

You feel his hand moving up agonizingly slowly, and though you have all the time in the world to stop him, you remain still, absorbing every sensation his touch evokes.

"Well?" You feel his fingers gently tilt your chin as he asks, "Are you going to make me ask again, or will you say yes?"

The primal intensity in his black eyes makes it clear he's not asking—he's demanding an answer.

You sense the sudden shift in him; his usual confident arrogance, always so carefully controlled, slips away to reveal an almost raw urgency.

Apparently, Sebastian is not the only one who can enjoy the effect that he has on you. And you can use it just the way he does it.

"I'll think about it," you reply, your voice steady despite the smile threatening to escape as you notice the flash of irritation in his gaze.

Slowly, his smirk deepens into a grin, causing your pulse to quicken as he gently traces the corner of your lips.

His touch, charged with the shift in his mood that you've evoked, is both deliberate and electrifying as he whispers, "Please do."

Each word lingers on your lips like a promise until, finally, he releases you. When he pulls back, it takes all your willpower not to reach after him, and as if sensing your struggle, he chuckles deeply.

Despite his touch lingering, a small, knowing smile forms on your lips, one that you know for sure lets him see that you noticed how you managed to make his composure crack.

"If that's all," you say, a small hint of satisfaction slipping through your neutral tone, "I have to go. I have work to attend to."

Forcing yourself to turn away while you still have the strength, you head toward the secure area. Just as you're about to swipe your ID card at the validator, his voice rings out across the lobby.

"Don't forget, our date is at seven!"

You spin around, clenching your jaw as you realize that the entire lobby has heard him.

Sebastian meets your gaze with an air of casual superiority, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his trench coat, a smirk playing on his lips.

It grates on your nerves, but you turn back and step into the secure area, determined to put an end to the public display.

Do you regret it?

Definitely not.