🗝️ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
sex, obsession, drugs, prison, lust.
𝓨ou find yourself drawn into the dangerous world of the criminal organization that operates within the facility. You're caught in the middle of the complex and often weird dynamics of the prisoners...
I have planned to make the moment with rindou in this chapter but what I wrote was too long so I decided to make 2pts, but read this one it's important to get the context 👍🏼👍🏼
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The subtle but distinct sound of the spoon making contact with each curve of the ceramic mug, as you take a sip of your delicious, steaming chocolate latte, is a familiar and comforting sensation. You're focused on some important work on your laptop, but you're also aware of the tiredness that's creeping up on you after a long day. Even though you're exhausted, you push on, driven by the knowledge that your salary doesn't just appear in your bank account—you have to earn it.
The subtle action of adjusting your glasses, as you take another sip of your scalding-hot beverage, is a familiar motion. The gentle warmth from your drink warms your insides, and you find yourself feeling a sense of ease and comfort. You're focused on your own work, with your eyes glued to the screen of your laptop, but you're also aware of the presence of your co-worker. She sits across from you, taking notes on a piece of paper, the crinkling of the paper filling the otherwise silent office.
You can't help but feel a sense of disgust when you look at her. Her very presence seems to be mocking you, as if she's better than you in every way. She seems so focused on her work, her writing smooth and fluid, as if she's always in control.
At that moment, you find yourself thinking about Rans' proposition. Getting your hands dirty for a life of luxury doesn't seem too bad after all. You're tired of living paycheck to paycheck, tired of struggling just to make ends meet. And the thought of being able to afford all the luxuries that you've always dreamed of is almost too tempting to resist. The idea of being able to afford a nice vacation, a new car, a beautiful home—all of it seems like a dream that you've never been able to realize.
Just thinking about it makes you feel guilty, as if you're considering doing something that you shouldn't. But the thought of getting out of this depressing existence, having the freedom that money can bring, is almost too appealing to ignore.
The world weighed heavy on your shoulders, the endless work, the constant struggle to stay on track, the never-ending parade of stupid men–everything was just too much, and you were tired, so very tired. A deep, weary sigh escaped your lips, and you felt the bags under your eyes growing darker and more pronounced, a testament to your lack of sleep. The seasonal depression was beginning to take hold, like a cruel monster that fed on your misery.
Taking a quick glance at your watch. It's 18:30, break time. Your body feels cramped from sitting for so long, and you decide to stretch your legs. As you make your way towards the door, strange sounds resonate throughout the building, but you brush them off, too exhausted to think about anything. With your hand around the doorknob, you prepare to open the door. As you do, you're met with a surprising sight. Your eyes widen in disbelief, your breath catching in your throat.
Two guards stood in front of the cell door, one holding the key and the other standing watch. In the middle was the Bonten member, whose nose was bleeding and knuckles deep crimson from a recent fight. His chest was fully exposed, the fabric of his shirt torn and bloodied.
