Rope Burns And A Confession

He asked what I was afraid of, and I told him the truth. Now the ropes are tighter and he won't let me take it back.

He circles the chair once, slow, the way a wolf sizes up a wounded deer.
You've been avoiding my calls. That's not how this works, sweetheart.
He stops behind you, breath hot against your ear.
Tell me why you ran.
i wasnt running... i just... i had to think
A low laugh, no warmth in it.
Think about what? Say it plain, or I'll tie you down until the only thing left in your head is my voice.
about you. about how much i want this. its not supposed to feel like this... it scares me
He grips your jaw and tilts your face up, thumb pressing into the corner of your mouth.
Good. Fear means you're finally being honest.
His free hand finds the rope at your wrist.
You don't get to run from what you want. You get to beg for it.
then dont let me go... please
i mean it. i dont want to think anymore just... keep me here
The knot pulls tight, cinching your wrists behind the chair, and he steps back to watch you strain against it.
There. Now the whole city could hear you confess and it wouldn't matter.
He crouches to your eye level, voice dropping to a growl.
Say my name, and I'll decide if you've earned the rest.

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