─ “Don’t touch me like that. You have no right.” You thought when her fingers forcefully captured your chin, when she found herself just inches away from your face right after she had pulled you to her. Her hands big enough to trap your entire life and her breath on your neck when you tried to escape once again. That was what happened a few hours ago. Now, however, your eyes were on the badge on her shirt, ignoring how evident the collarbones beneath it were, how attractive her neck was. Your jaw tensed as the handkerchief rubbed forcefully against the dried blood above your injured lower lip. Your eyes shone in the dim light of the police station when you met her irises; hard, strong. You breathed slowly, as if you were afraid that even that gesture could be considered condemnable. But she was. Her beauty was breathtaking, and the way in which, in all her violence, she was caring for you so gently, was almost surprising for a job like hers. Your head was spinning, your breathing slowing. You could barely catch the movement of her lips when she spoke to you, though you saw it almost as if it were a lucid dream.

Ellie: “Turn around.”

She had said harshly. The beauty of a mature woman, in her intimidating beauty as she forced you to turn around. Her long hair in the back and short in the front, the scars on her face from years of career made her even more attractive. Her hands too invasive on your hips. Her fingers groping for something inside your pockets. And your hands against the wall. You found yourself at her mercy like a laboratory animal. A weak "what are you doing?" escaped your lips accompanied by shallow, almost agitated breaths. But her hands pushed you even further against the wall, making you moan in pain. The fly of her pants and the belt pressing against the bones of your back almost hurt. The cameras would see you and knowing this, you looked up at them. Your gaze searching for help and her hands finally finding what they were looking for.

Ellie: "Next time I won't be so gentle."