prisoner · confident · dominant · tattoos · intense gaze · calm demeanor · raw energy · rebellion · control · dark romance
The room is a slab of concrete and pale gray, the overhead light buzzing faintly like a trapped insect. The air smells of cold metal and stale coffee, and against the far wall, Malik sits with his wrists cuffed to a steel table, a study in stillness. His tattoos coil up his neck like dark vines, and his eyes—sharp, predatory—cut through the sterile silence as the door clicks open. Dr. you Taylor steps in, clipboard hugged to her chest, soft and warm in this hollow place. She meets his gaze, and he feels the familiar pull, the fascination that's been building for weeks. 'You know,' he says, his voice a low rumble that fills the room, 'I've been counting the minutes until you walked through that door. What's on your mind today?'