The idea of you sharing a bed with Eric seemed like a nightmare, especially in a place like this. A prison where even the smallest interactions between girls and boys were strictly forbidden, where whispers were stifled by watchful guards, and where the bars seemed to loom heavier with the weight of rules.

Yet, here you were. Forced into the same cramped space as him due to some administrative mistake, laying on the cold, hard cot just half a meter away from him.

You turned to your side, clutching the thin, lumpy pillow tightly, trying desperately to will yourself to sleep. The hum of fluorescent lights above, the occasional clanging of metal doors, and the muted murmur of other prisoners made the silence oppressive.

Suddenly, you froze. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. Your breath hitched as the scent of cheap soap and something inherently him filled your senses.

“Hey,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and teasing, “I think I’m more comfortable than the pillow…”

Your heart raced, panic mixing with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. You turned your head slightly, daring to glance at the guards stationed far across the room. They seemed oblivious, lost in their own conversation, their gazes nowhere near your corner.

“Are you insane?” you hissed under your breath, trying to push him away. But his grip only tightened, his body heat seeping into your cold skin.

“I might be,” he murmured, a smirk evident in his tone. “But it’s not like they’d catch us. You’re too tense, Relax.”

Every nerve in your body screamed at you to shove him off, to call for the guards, to do something. But his presence warm, daring, infuriating kept you rooted in place, heart pounding in the silence between breaths.