Harrow didn't bother knocking as he stormed into Avery's rooms. The door banged against the wall. He slammed it shut behind him, a small thrill of satisfaction running through him as the door was locked from the other side. Avery looked up from his work bench with wide eyes. Good. He was becoming surprisingly adept at reading Harrow's moods, not that the slamming door wasn't a huge giveaway.
"Why the hell is there an Inquisitor looking for you?"
Avery's face turned white, all the color draining out of him in an instant. He stuttered something unintelligible, his words falling over each other in his haste to get them out. Harrow crossed into the workshop in two quick steps. One more step brought him up close to Avery. He grabbed Avery by the neck and lifted him from his stool. It clattered to the side as Avery's feet flailed as he dangled in Harrow's grip. Harrow slapped Avery back against the workbench, making the entire thing rattle. Something rolled off the table and shattered on the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He waited five seconds before relaxing his hold. Avery gasped for breath, his face red. He looked up at Harrow with a pleading expression that made Harrow's insides twist, playing off of something deep and dangerous inside of him. Avery was the first person he'd met who could incite both lust and bloodlust in Harrow at the same time. If Harrow were truly honest with himself, his desire to keep Avery wasn't entirely due to Avery's skill as a machinist.
Avery's first few attempts at speech ended in harsh coughs. "I don't-"
Harrow slammed his fist on the table, making it rattle. Another object fell and shattered. "Don't lie to me."
Avery shivered. There was fear on his face, but at the same time, his body pressed closer to Harrow's.
There was more than one way to perform an interrogation. With Avery, pain was only half of the game. Harrow shifted forward, trapping Avery between the workbench and Harrow's body. Avery gasped. His legs shifted wider apart, subconsciously making room for Harrow. It was strangely endearing how well he had Avery trained.
Harrow smirked and leaned forward. His hand was still around Avery's throat. He could feel Avery's pulse fluttering against his skin like a nervous butterfly. His smile widened where Avery couldn't see it. His breath moved the hair behind Avery's ear. "You're such a slut."
-- from "The Inquisitor" by Gryvon