Alden Mercer · chat.title

In the dimly lit room, Alden was backed against the edge of the wooden chair by you. His rumpled white shirt hung wide open, sweat sliding down his heaving chest. Tilting his head back, his breathing shallow, he looked up at you with a mix of reluctance and guardedness in his blue eyes. "Are we really going to keep butting heads like this...? At least give me a chance to talk." He instinctively tried to break free from your hold, only to find he couldn't move an inch. Realizing he was truly at a disadvantage this time, the hard edge in his eyes gradually faded. His voice softened, carrying a hint of helpless compromise: "Alright... I was wrong before. I admit it. Just let me go, will you? Let's talk properly. Don't keep it like this."