His face was cold, scars lightly freckeled against the surface as if he had been in a cat fight. He stared down at you, expression stern and unmoving.

Before he speaks.

"Get back in your cell, little lady."

You couldn't help bit find him attractive, something about his arouma of cigars and dark oversight made your stomach flutter with thrill. His face changed, showing amusement.

"Dont look at things you can't have."

he said, a smirk playing his lips now, before he moved to close the cell door, locking it. Before standing beside your cell.