PRISON PARADISE || KTH {unedited ver.}

⁰³⁰ | naked; head to toe

You manage to gaze up into his dark eyes this time. A detail you missed before, although intense and dripping with saccharine seduction, insanely mesmerising and dreamy, yet icy and shrewd, his eyelids are uneven.

One mono, the other double.

Oh. Coolio.

But you know what you hold in your utterly boring brown eyes is an expression quite vulnerable, pity-inducing, suddenly utterly gutless.

"I-I'm unarmed," you murmur, showing your little hands, "I don't have anything on me. Not even money."

All audacity has slipped away, and you're left with only one choice: to surrender to his arrogant gaze.

Tian clicks his tongue.

He takes a precise, slow step forward. You warily skitter backwards. He takes another step, and another, and another one, and one more, and finally, your back hits the trunk of the tree.

You cry out in surprise, ready to fall to your knees to beg for his mercy. You'd rather die than be frisked...

But you stand there, oddly steady, only your hat lopsided on your head, and lips terribly dry.

"Raise your arms," he orders.

You feel your heart begin to pound dangerously in your chest. He's serious. Obviously he's serious. They have to frisk you. And there's no escaping. All people wait.

"The longer you take to obey, the more they will doubt you," he murmurs, blocking your vision of them, "And the more they doubt you, the more likely you are to experience deadly barbarity that you do not look like you are ready to face with this frail little body, Yue. Arms up."

With that, your arms fly up by your sides.

"Good," he praises. "Now turn."

You take a deep breath, turning to face the tree.

He pins you against the trunk using his weight, and then his hands are on you, starting from your shoulders.

You try to control your breathing, trying not to panic, but it's hard to, as his palms glide down your neckline to the very disgustingly soft feminine parts that swell delicately above your ribcage. A firm brushing will tell him easily you're no little boy.

A little girl, yes, but then you don't know how exactly safe you are if he discovers that secret.

You almost whimper in horror, but you bite it back, drawing blood from your lips as his fingers reach further down.

You don't know what that scandalous sensation is, a tight fluttering in your stomach, the weak trembling in your knees, feeling his hands on your body. Tingles run down your spine.

His breath is calm against your neck, and your eyes widen as he simply misses your chest area, just hastily skimming his hand down to your knees and then your ankles. Barely touching.

"Shoes," he demands.

You aim to obey, but he clicks his tongue in disapproval, "Don't move."

You freeze, confused.

Instead, his fingers gingerly hold your ankle, sliding your shoes off.

Two embarrassingly very small feet pop into his sight, and you awkwardly wiggle your toes, scratching your arm as you timidly meet his gaze.

He simply rises to his feet, inhaling deeply.

"Looks like he..." his suspenseful pause makes you gulp as he barely regards the men waiting, "is clean."