Blue and Bold

The harsh clink of handcuffs echoes in the stark interrogation room. Miles Previti, a punk with a chip on his shoulder, sneers at the cop across from him. James Lowes, clad in his regulation blues, leans back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" Previti spits, but Lowes just smirks, his eyes glinting. "Is that what you tell yourself to feel like a man, huh?" he retorts, his voice a low growl. Previti's face flushes, his fists clenching, but Lowes continues, "Tell me you love me. Beg me to fuck you like the worthless little whore you are." The room crackles with tension, the air thick with unsaid words and unfulfilled desires.

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