Her arms are bent at an unnatural angles, fingers prying harshly at the lock of the handcuffs that bind her wrists together in front. She’s half stooped, using her teeth to balance a hair pin between her lips and work it into the lock. It’s going about as well as can be expected and so focused on her task is she, that when the door slams open she jerks, hard, and the pin flies from her mouth in an error of comedy. Her brows knit together neatly, her escape momentarily paused.
“---when I asked for help, you certainly weren’t what I had in mind.”
@mcgicbox















