I think I made it too freaky and made my writing go wild and ik dang well my pookie could see what the caw I'm writing 💔💔
The room was dim, shadows stretching long across the walls, flickering with the soft, golden glow of candlelight. The air was thick, warm, carrying the faint scent of melted wax
Chance exhaled, slow, measured. His pulse thrummed in his throat, steady but insistent, betraying the stillness he was trying to maintain.
The rope around his wrists held fast, and tight against the smooth wooden headboard. Whoever had tied them had taken their time. It wasn’t just about keeping him in place, it was about control, precision,he could feel in every careful knot. Firm, unyielding, but not cruel.
His fingers flexed, testing. No give. No slack. A slow curl of anticipation coiled in his gut, a low ember stirred with each breath.
the coolness of the sheets beneath him against the heat rolling off his skin. Every shift of his body pressed the awareness deeper, making the restraint feel sharper, heavier. The weight of it settled over him, not suffocating, but thick enough to keep him on edge.
The rope at his wrists tightened slightly as he moved, just a fraction, but enough to remind him. Enough to make his breath hitch, just for a second.
Chance's voice was quiet when he finally spoke, low and edged with something unreadable. "Tied me up and left me waiting? That’s bold."
A pause, the silence stretching around him. Chance let his head tilt back, His fedora also tipping upwards in the process
"I hope you’re not expecting me to beg. That’s not how this works."