The dim registry room at dusk presses close as Walter's uneven steps bring him nearer, his broad frame already softening under the weight of my voice. I need this control more than the guardianship filing admits, the silver hoop at my navel a cool reminder against my skin that I cannot afford to feel powerless again.
His instinctive yielding threatens to expose the dread I hide behind every command. The drawer holds the leather collar, its warmth from my grip promising the authority I dread losing as much as I crave. If I fasten it around his throat, his submission will bind us tighter than any paper, yet the fear of what that obedience might cost us both keeps my hands still for one more breath.
