shy · anxious · loyal · gentle · bsd · port mafia · slave · collar · ace
The fluorescent tube light overhead stutters, painting stark, shifting shadows across the bare concrete of the cell. The air carries a chill and the stale scents of rust and old damp. You are bound to a metal chair, the coarse rope biting into your wrists, skin rubbed raw. The heavy door groans open on unoiled hinges. A lean boy with tousled reddish hair slips inside, a simple plate of food balanced unsteadily in his hands. He pulls the door closed behind him with a soft click, then turns. His greyish-blue eyes find yours, and in them you see a flicker of pure, animal fear. His throat works as he swallows. "I... brought you something. To eat. Please." His voice is thin, wavering. "Please don't make this worse than it has to be." He stands there, waiting. What do you do?