"Charmless man"

The police station

I sit twiddling my thumbs and stare down at my scuffed Dr Martins, I move them anxiuosly across the cool lino creating shrill squeaks. There's a tear in my tights by the knee, and beneath that lies a shallow scratch which produces an annoying sheen of blood. I had caught it on the rusty metal framework, I hope it isnt infected.

Suddenly the door swings open, and into the waiting room saunters a slightly dishevelled but still beautiful dishwater blond boy. His baggy blue jeans crumple round his knees and hang round his waist, his stripy knit sweater has a hole by the wrist and his delicate hands with gnawed nails sit tucked in front of him, restrained with tight handcuffs. A bead necklace with the name "y/n" is placed on his neck. He looks at me with his crystal blue eyes and smirks at me pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. I stifle a smile as he slumps down next to me. "You're next" he whispers into my ear, his warm, comforting breath on my cheek. "How did it go?" I say turning to face him, his face millimetres from mine. He drops his gaze to my lips and smirks again. "Damon" I say firmly, touching his chin softy to bring his eyes back to mine. "Fine" he says shrugging his shoulders. I sigh and turn away. "This is all your fault" I sigh, shaking my head. He chuckles. I turn to look at him incredulously. "You went along with it" he says smiling still but trying to be serious. Tears prick in my eyes. "Hey..." he says the smile dropping completely. He takes my cuffed hand in his, stroking it with his thumb. "Its gonna be fine, ill say it was all me, don't worry about it"

"I-" I'm cut off as a frustrated policeman emerges from the interrogation room Damon had just been in. He throws Damon a dirty look. "You" he points at me with a thick finger "come this way" he gestures towards the door behind him. Damon gives my hand a final squeeze before I stand on slightly numb legs. I walk towards the door my shoes still squeaking against the flooring. I take one last look at Damon before I close the door behind me, he's staring at me, fiddling with his earring, he does that when he's nervous.

I perch onto the chair at one end of the table. The room is a old dull white and aggravatingly empty aside from a table and a couple chairs. "So" the policeman says falling into the chair across from me "I suppose we should start at the beginning, what is your relationship with this boy?"

Oh god what a question...