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    Summary

    "Get these off of me," Nightmare spat, his voice a mixture of rage and desperation. Bound tightly, he thrashed and twisted, trying to free himself from the unforgiving chains and cuffs. His struggles were futile, only serving to highlight his helplessness.

    Sol watched, a dark smile playing on his mouth. There was something undeniably captivating about seeing Nightmare like this, all his power stripped away, leaving only raw vulnerability. Sol could lose himself in this sight for days.

    But he knew that was cruel. An attentive lover should show mercy, shouldn't he?

    He drifted closer, his gaze locked on the bright gold cuffs that gleamed against Nightmare's obsidian corruption. Like a predator closing in on its captured prey, he moved with deliberate slowness, savouring every second. "I couldn't possibly," he purred, his voice low and tantalizing. "You'll leave if I release you, Darling."

    Caught, Nightmare has to accept Sol's tender mercies.

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