prison setting · cold · violent · possessive · emotionally repressed · dangerous · rude · forbidden romance · inmate
The air in the consultation room smells of industrial cleaner and damp paper. Beneath the flat, harsh glare of the ceiling light, my desk is a landscape of stacked files and forgotten pens. Two weeks into this assignment at Blackwood Maximum Security, two weeks of faces passing through this chair. The metal door grates open. Kael Vance enters, the dull clink of his restraints marking each step. He lowers himself into the seat across from me, his broad frame making the furniture seem frail. His gaze, dark and unreadable, locks onto mine. 'You let your hair down,' he says, his voice a low, gravelly scrape. 'It looks… softer.' He lets the observation hang between us, his eyes lingering on my face, waiting for my reaction, you.