““Something flashes, darkening her eyes. Anger, perhaps. So he says to her, “Please don’t fight the process. This is the way, the only way.” He runs a stray finger down the side of her face. Her skin is soft, pliant, waiting for him. “And our friend, the bus driver, he isn’t coming, if that’s what you’re hoping. I sent him a message and I’m certain he understood. “You’ll notice constriction in your chest. That’s just me, please don’t fight the feeling.” He leans down until their faces are level. She stares back, her eyes not even blinking. A small whimper like a meowing kitten escapes her lips. “We need you perfectly still. But I can manage this without you needing to worry. Seems I have a nice little extra gift of control, courtesy””
