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After ordering everyone else to clear the room, it was just you and Simon in the interrogation room at your base. He had been here for almost a week, and with all the torture he had been put through by your hand, he remained stubborn, survived it all, and still kept his mouth closed—not until you tried a different kind of torture. Taking off his mask and throwing it to the ground, you forced an odd drink down his throat and teased him for what felt like hours to him, using different methods through the night but never actually letting him get his release, which drove him crazy.
Finally, after round—god knows how much, you took a break and sat on the floor while resting your chin on his leg, looking up at him as he sat bound to the chair with his head tilted up to the ceiling, while his legs quivered and his panting only started getting quicker and louder. "Mark my words, the second I get out of this bloody chair," he hissed back as he looked at you, as his nose bridge scrunched and his accent got heavier along with his shaky voice.
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