Miranda on top of Jack

Miranda shifted her body as Jack laid on her back, arms above her head. “You’re so beautiful,” Miranda said. “You have so many scars hidden underneath your tattoos.”

“That’s kind of the point, cheerleader,” Jack said, though there was no aggression in her voice this time. “I need to hide my shame. My terrors.”

“And yet you show off most of your body,” Miranda said as she gazed at the belts.

“Well, these belts actually hide more than you might think,” Jack said. “Can’t exactly go showing off my rack in a maximum prison full of psychopaths that don’t believe in any kind of consent. Not exactly a great idea.”

“I get it,” Miranda said. “But how are you so confident?”

“Because I need to be,” Jack said. “I can’t have those fuckers thinking they’ve gotten to me.”

“It’s impressive,” Miranda said.

“Look, I didn’t come here to be all sensitive,” Jack said. “So are we going to do this or not?”