thinking about leather gloves again.
pressed against your mouth and nose so leather is the only thing you smell as breathing gets harder and harder.
resting on your throat as a constant reminder that he could just choke you out. but he doesn't. not yet.
combing through your hair gently only to suddenly grip and pull. hard.
gloved fingers in your mouth, the taste of leather and dirt pushed down onto your tounge.
reinforced gloves hitting your cheek, your ribs, your joints, doubling over from the pain. forceful grip on your chin making you look up again.
gloved hands grabbing at bare skin, hard enough to hurt and bruise. later tracing the marks with light touches. and pressing down to make it hurt again and again.














