I don’t dodge it completely.
I take part of it, letting the impact drive me sideways instead of back, my shoulder hitting the floor with a controlled shift that brings me closer to the base of the wall.
“You’re not very efficient,” I mutter, my voice rougher now.
“Funny,” he replies. “You’re not very free.”
“Temporary condition,” I say.
He grabs me by the collar and hauls me up just enough to shove me back down again, harder this time.
“Stay down,” he snaps.
“Make me,” I shoot back.
He raises his hand again?—
“Enough,” the second guard says, stepping forward. “Command wants him intact.”
The first one exhales sharply, stepping back with visible reluctance.
“Yeah,” I mutter, shifting slightly again, testing the restraint against the edge of the floor panel this time instead of the open space. “That’s probably smart.”
“What are you doing?” the second guard asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Getting comfortable,” I reply.
The panel edge is sharper than the rest of the surface, not enough to be obvious, but enough to matter. I angle my wrists carefully, pressing the restraint against it while keeping my movements small, controlled, letting the guards think I’m just adjusting position.
“You’re not as subtle as you think,” the first one says.
“Good,” I murmur. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
I pull slightly, testing the tension.
The material doesn’t give.
Not yet.
“Alright,” I whisper under my breath. “Then we change the angle.”
I shift again, slower this time, dragging the edge across the same point repeatedly instead of pulling against it.
Friction builds.
The guard watches me, suspicion creeping into his expression.
“Hands still,” he orders.
I stop.
Immediately.
“Better?” I ask.
He studies me for a second longer, then relaxes just slightly.
“Yeah,” he says. “Keep it that way.”
