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Tristan stood there, hands cupped behind his back as he looked through the bars of the cell at Gemma LaRoue's form. He licked his dry lips and took a deep breath, and waited for the guard to unlock the cell door. "If you would please turn around and put your hands behind your back Miss LaRoue." He said softly as he took a step forward into the cell, the guards stood just outside the entrance, guns trained on the Pirate as Tristan pulled a pair of shackles from his belt loop.
Gemma LaRoue wasn't the only one that had a restless night, and the young Navy Officer was trying to do his best to hide the fact that he had been up all night, thinking of how the following day would go. Everytime he closed his eyes all he could picture was Gemma's face as the floor fell out from under her feet and dangled there slowly chocking to death, if the rope didn't snap her neck first. He cleared his throat, trying to dispell the thoughs from his mind again as he held out the shackles and waited for Miss LaRoue to turn around.
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