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Maki has you on your knees, wrists held above your head in one tight grasp so she can look down at you with a placid sneer. "Are you sure you want to test my patience?" She asks, voice deceptively flat if not for the way her pearly teeth are grit tight, "I'm beginning to lose my interest in you."
A lie, clearly. If she had truly lost interest, she would have dropped you long before announcing something as petty and transparent as that.
You sort of want to giggle, sort of want to cry. You're not even sure what you did wrong aside from talk to another sorcerer-- Fushi- something, or the other. You can't even really remember anything about the exchange besides that Maki really didn't like it, but what else is new? She doesn't like when you interact with other people in general, especially not other sorcerers.
You try to glare at her even though your heart is pounding in your chest. It's embarrassing, really, how she barely has to exude any strength to keep you under her thumb-- her sadistic hold on your wrists forcing you into a humiliating kneel at her feet like an obedient pet.
Something in you you once thought apathetic threatens to break. "Let me go you fucking-" your voice cuts off on a squeak as Maki sharply yanks you off the ground, and shoves you up against a wall, the smooth side of her staff suddenly pressed harshly up against your windpipe.
"I'll give you until the count of three to come up with an apology."
"One," she leans in until her breath fans across your lips, eyes narrowing as if she hates you, but you know better. There's a thrumming heat burning between you, one-sided or not, Maki doesn't care. She has you right where she wants you.
You dare to roll your eyes.
"Two," her knee slides up between your legs, hiking your skirt further up your thighs, and suddenly the blasé attitude you had before melts into discomforted annoyance.
"Seriously?" You growl, snapping at her like a chained dog, but Maki only gives you the barest of smiles. Your face grows warm, gaze a simmering glower. "Fuck off."
She pauses in her count, eyes growing colder, calculative, the promise of pain a clear warning written across her face. "...Three-"
"W-Wait! I'm sorry," You choke, throat aching from the harsh push of her staff against your trachea. You swallow your pride. "I'm sorry, Maki, for... everything. Please, forgive me."
Maki pauses to stare at you, searching your features for any miniscule clue as to your sincerity. After a while, she tsks, but lets you go, stepping back quick enough that you drop back onto your knees with little to no pretense aside from the definite bruising you'll be sporting later.
"Good, but not perfect," she eyes you, and it feels like hellfire licking across your skin. "Let's fix that."