His hand is like an iron shackle around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze all the way… but you know he could at any second. The dense breath of sake hits your face.

“Do you think I don’t know?” his voice rumbles, deep, almost like a restrained roar. “Something about you doesn’t add up.”

His gaze locks onto yours, piercing, as if he wants to rip your thoughts out by force. Every second in that grip feels longer, as if the world had shrunk to nothing but his fingers and your breathing.

You could speak, you could swear you haven’t betrayed him… but something in his expression tells you words won’t be enough. He doesn’t want promises he wants proof.

And until he gets it, he won’t release his hold.