Y/n Álvarez wasn't afraid of danger.

She had spent years confronting it—studying the minds of men who had done unspeakable things, understanding what made them tick. But there was something about Dexter Morgan that unsettled her in a way she hadn't expected.

Because she wasn't just studying him.

She was drawn to him.

And that was dangerous.

She leaned against the railing of the precinct's rooftop, the humid Miami air pressing against her skin. The city pulsed below, a maze of lights and moving shadows. This was where she went when she needed to think—when the weight of her job became too much.

A presence joined her.

She didn't have to turn to know who it was.

"You always sneak up on people like that, Morgan?" she asked, not looking away from the skyline.

Dexter chuckled softly. "You don't seem like the type to be easily startled."

She smirked. "I'm not."

Silence stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. It had been like this since their first meeting—this unspoken tension, this push and pull neither of them acknowledged outright.

"You've been watching me," Dexter said finally, his voice even.

Y/n turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. He wasn't accusing her. He was stating it.

She didn't deny it. "You interest me."

He smiled, but there was something guarded in it. "Because you think I have something to hide?"

Y/n tilted her head. "I think everyone does. Some people are just better at it than others."

Dexter took a step closer, his presence almost unnervingly calm. "And what about you? What are you hiding, Dr. Álvarez?"

Her pulse quickened—not out of fear, but something else. Excitement.

She had spent so much time peeling away other people's masks, but now, someone was trying to look beneath hers.

For a moment, she considered telling him.

But then she smiled, tilting her head up at him. "I guess that depends... Do you really want to know?"

Dexter studied her, his blue eyes sharp—calculating. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"I guess we'll find out."

And as he turned to leave, Y/n exhaled, realizing something she hadn't before.

She wasn't just trying to figure out Dexter Morgan anymore.

She wanted to.