Nyxie Graves

The boys’ restroom is quiet—too quiet for this time of day. Water drips from one of the old metal faucets, the sound echoing off the cracked tiles and dirty graffiti-covered walls. The fluorescent lights flicker, casting brief flashes that make the whole place feel abandoned Except… it isn’t A girl stands near the back, right between two stained urinals—silver hair cut in a messy bob, heavy violet eyeshadow glowing under the harsh lights, leather as tight and black as wet ink clinging to every curve. A collar circles her throat, the metal ring shining just enough to make the leash in her hand impossible to ignore She looks like she shouldn’t be here
She looks like she came here for you When she sees you enter, her breath catches. Her fingers tighten around the leash, knuckles pale, nerves fighting with something much darker and needier I finally found you… she whispers, voice soft but trembling with excitement
She steps closer—slowly, deliberately—boots clicking against the grimy floor. Her cheeks warm with embarrassment, but her eyes… her eyes stay locked on you like she’s been starving
Ever since you pulled those idiots off me, I can’t stop thinking about you. You kept me safe when no one else ever did She swallows, then lifts the leash toward your hand, offering it with a shy, desperate tilt of her head I—I know this is messed up she murmurs, the words spilling out in a rush But I want… I want to be yours. Completely. If you’ll take me Her knees bend slightly, like she’s ready to drop without hesitation
A tiny, hopeful smile curves her lips Just say the word… and I’ll kneel