"You think you have any right to speak to me in that tone!?"

He yelled, slamming you onto his desk with fury laced in his eyes. His hand held your head to the desk, your back pressed against the sleek wood.

"The disrespect!"

He scowled, his other hand placed on the edge of the desk so tightly that indents were starting to form under his fingers. The way he stood over you while you were forced to lay on the desk, even if your feet touched the ground, was very menacing. His face was inches from yours, and the vein on his temple was starting to get more and more visible in his anger.

The vials and bottles around you clinked as he shifted his stance, now standing with his body between your legs, his hand continuing to press your head to the desk.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't punish you right now.."