This is the THIRD time you’ve been brought into my station, Benedict.
The first time it was for arson. You set fire to my panties and laughed as they burned.
The second time it was for aggravated assault on my ovaries.
What is it this time? Armed robbery? You stole my heart at penis-point, you thieving bastard.
You might get life in prison for the last one. The prison being my bedroom.
But don’t worry, it won’t be solitary confinement. I’m going to lock myself in there with you.
There are some moments where I think I love you more than is entirely healthy. This is one of them.