the thick air carries the scent of strong coffee, sweet vanilla, and the pungent smell of her men's cologne.

her presence makes your blood boil under your skin, and your eyes burn with sparks bright enough to set an entire city on fire.

she was the reason for your sleepless nights and your endless arguments with your father, when you screamed "but daddy, i love her!" while being admonished about god.

your father told you that you were a sinner, that every lewd thought you had about her was a new sin that you'd have to kneel before god to absolve.

but it was no big deal when her eyes were fixed on you. no matter how much she denied it, she only had eyes for you.

as soon as a strong odor pierces your sinuses, your head immediately turns towards the door she appears in. billie. to you.

to the others she was 'ma'am. wide jeans hang low, the patch you sewed on her left thigh after she was shot, too stubborn to grab another pair of pants.

"for the second time this week" her voice is as professionally calm as ever, not giving away a drop of the nervousness that actually sat in her heart when she noticed how confidently you look at her.

as if she's already yours, body and soul belonging to you.

as if you know exactly what you are doing to her, wearing such short skirts and such slutty shirts, exposing your skin that she longs to touch.

but she's silent. silent because she has no right to touch you, to spoil you.

she's just afraid that she can ruin what seems not to exist.

you sit still, lazily, arms out in front of you, the handcuffs secured around your wrists glistening in the sunset light.

billie takes a few steps forward, almost awkwardly, removing a bunch of keys from the loop on her jeans.

her hands tremble as she touches you, deftly turning the right key to undo the handcuffs, leaving them lying a few inches away from you. just so you'll always remember them.

"petty theft... at a gas station. are you serious?" she reads your two-page file.

as if you were a member of a drug gang instead of taking a few candy bars and a can of soda off the shelf just because you knew the hysterical clerk would throw a tantrum, screaming and calling the sheriff's office about how you'd 'trashed' his precious gas station again.

it doesn't matter if you did it on purpose. just to see her beautiful face again.

a playful smile adorns your face, your arms tightening to your body so that you can rest your chin on them as if you were a work of art that came down from heaven instead of an ordinary girl always getting into trouble, to see billie looking at you time after time, skillfully hiding the beating of her heart.

but unfortunately for her, your gaze has already fallen to her neck, noticing the frantic beating of her heart.

your body no longer listens to reason, and your hands slide forward until your fingertips meet her skin, soft and hot, drawing a line from her hand to her elbow, causing goosebumps all over her body that can't be hidden even with the greatest desire.

billie almost gasps, but after a few seconds pulls her hand away, covering her face.

"you're gonna drive me to my damn grave" she whispers and you can't help but giggle, slowly standing up and walking around the wooden table to be inches away from her body.

your hand comes down to touch her face and she looks like she's gonna cry. out of desperation and fear, like she's almost given up, but no.

her body rises lightning fast from the creaking chair, and now her silhouette towers over you until she pushes you against the concrete wall, burning holes in your heart with her gaze.

there's nothing in her eyes but a frantic desire to finally shut your mouth with hers, sliding her wet tongue past your lips as you whimper silently, begging for more.

but before you both can say anything, her palm shuts you up, preventing you from uttering a word.

"stop. just fucking stop doing that until i lose control."

the game has moved into your hands. and so has her heart.