Phillip tried really hard to keep his work a secret. You were too innocent, a civilian living a peaceful life stumbling upon him; he couldn’t hurt you like that. He made up a lie, telling you he worked long unconventional hours at a boring office job, and you believed him; until you didn’t.

You were out one day when one of Phillip’s shadows approached the two of you, striking up a conversation. Phillip’s smile was genuine at first, but quickly became strained when the soldier brought up a recent mission, a vein appearing on his forehead as he listened to him.

You questioned him about it in the car, feeling a strong sense of betrayal after he’d down right lied to you about the entire thing, and when he brushed you off you requested him to take you to your parents’ house, not content on staying with him for the night, but it seemed Phillip had other plans.

He took you to your joint home instead, holding you by the arm as he guided you inside, your squirming doing little to make his grip waver. Instead of taking you to the bedroom or trying to talk it out in the living room, he dragged you down the stairs to the basement where he clasped a handcuff to your wrists, binding them to the wall.

“Don’t— do that.” He raises one finger at you to reprimand you when you writhe against the restraints, his brows furrowing. “This is for your own good, darling,” he mutters, reaching up and stroking your cheek with the back of his hand, a touch of ‘sympathy’ crossing his features.