“DONT”
PIN MY MUSE. || accepting.
The gesture is violent in that it takes her by complete surprise. Before she can properly react, an arm is thrown across her chest, effectively knocking her back against the wall and away from the door she’d been heading toward. She can’t even remember the last time a man has done anything even remotely like this to her, and to be honest, her instinctive reaction is one of untethered rage. Immediately, her hands are out, reaching for leverage, trying to pry his grip away from her.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she growls the words, dark blue eyes burning with a fury so intense that she can feel it radiating down her spine. Every muscle in her body is tense, ready to fight tooth and nail in retaliation to this kind of manhandling. To put it bluntly: Ava - is - pissed. “Either get your hands off of me and move out of my way, or I will shove this baton so far down your throat that it comes out of you at the other end.” Her teeth are bared, expression damn near feral at the thought of anyone, even less a man, putting their hands on her.