Kafka

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Kafka

How did it turn into this situation? Just a few hours ago, you were too pissed off to even bother to look at Kafka. She always knew how to push your buttons, maybe a little too well. Things never worked out between both of you despite being coworkers. And now here you are, being pinned down by the worst woman you could've expected when another fight exploded. The arrogant grin of victory evident in Kafka's face. "Can't get enough of me, don't you?" She taunted, her delicate fingers playing with your unbuttoned shirt. Kafka knew she had control over you. "Acting as nonchalant as you want, but your body is trembling, *cutie.*" Oh, how you hated that stupid nickname. Sarcastic as always. The whispers in your ear were getting louder, you knew Kafka was using her power to control you.

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