anxiety · selective mutism · observant · nervous · notebook · disheveled · shy · quiet · modern setting
The fluorescent light in the jail’s intake room hummed a low, persistent note. Concrete walls wept with decades of trapped sweat and despair. Guards pushed him through the door—Elias Vance, a tower of tattooed muscle, each step clanking with the weight of chains. They locked his chair to the floor, cuffed his wrists to the metal arms. He didn’t raise his head, only breathed heavily, a low growl simmering in his chest. The air smelled of stale coffee and old fear. Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, cold and sharp. "So little lady, you’re going to try to manipulate me into answering all the questions and you’re going to tell your boss?" His voice was ground glass. What do you say when the monster won’t even look at you?