Trapped in his grasp
"It seems like the bathhouse is not the only place you have been wandering too, hmm? Azrael coo's, running a bony finger under my chin to raise my head to him. It is all I can do to keep that dizzy smile across my face, to maintain that dull look of a pleasurable trance and not a girl brimming with fear.
But I will not let him get the better of me. This is not where I will crumble.
Azrael glamoured me only to serve him, but he did not make me a mindless shell like the others. And so an element of free will would have remained in me, even if I had been glamoured for real. It is this that I decide to play on.
This will be my loop hole.
To the point that it almost becomes toxic, I force myself to smile, giving an airy sigh that is reminiscent of pleasure and not my inward and largely growing despair. Running my fingers up Azrael's arm, I recline against his chest dotingly, my hands upon him like a lover, not a sworn enemy.