This is a little rough, so any nitpicky detail suggestions would absolutely be appreciated.

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He was beautiful.

I found myself enamored at first sight. I’d slipped into the main office in an attempt to escape one of the guards patrolling the hallway, and having him suddenly appear before me absolutely took my breath away.

I caught myself staring with my mouth open, wasting time I should've used to find my way out of the club’s back rooms before the documents I'd stolen were found missing. I'd seen what happened to the busboy who'd short-changed one of the club's cash registers. Ashton's cronies tortured and killed him so horrifically, I'd nearly thrown up when I'd seen it only twenty minutes before. I couldn’t help my fellow young thief then, but I would save this man from a similar fate. The only question was: how?

He hung suspended in the tank of loc gel. His chin rested on his bare chest, and his longish hair floated gently like a black halo around his strong features. An oxygen mask allowed him to breathe.

Heavy chain held his thick wrists behind his back, and more of the same lashed his boot-encased ankles to the tank's bottom. And finally, the reason why it would be so difficult to get him out, was the final chain. The one wrapped around his neck to keep his tall form stretched out, prominently on display. Small electrodes positioned all over his body emitted tiny electric pulses to stimulate his muscles, and keep his body from deteriorating to a skeleton—so there’d be no doubt of how strong he’d once been.

He was an example to others, a trophy. A trophy I didn't feel a human criminal, a creep like Ashton, deserved to keep in his office.

If I simply broke the glass of the tank to get him out, he would hang from the end of that chain around his throat. Saving him would take time. Perhaps more time than I had to spare. There was no way to know when Ashton's men might stumble across me, and then I'd probably get to occupy a tank next to his. We'd get to spend the rest of our lives together.

Not my idea of a good time.

In spite of the looming threat of discovery, for the longest time I simply couldn't tear myself away. I just stood there, dazzled by how light passed through the liquid and illuminated him with a green glow. Individual rays bent around the curvature of the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest.

He was so well built, so perfect. His body held so much physical power, even though he appeared so young. He was like a majestic white tiger; caged, but still sleek in spite of it, and unnaturally strong.

I almost left him there, in spite of his commanding presence. Just when I turned to go, he moved, jerking around as though being electrocuted. After a long moment, the rusty chains around his wrists broke and fell away, freeing his arms. In awe, I watched the chain links slowly sink downward, fluttering in the thick liquid, and then my eyes slowly rose once again to gaze at him.

His arms floated at his sides for a time. Then one came forward, and his fingers clawed weakly at the plastic in front of him, before his palm came to rest flat against it—reaching out for my help.

His silent resistance of his prison tugged at my heart strings, just as it would any child criminal. This was the nightmare we all shared. A prison and a hell mixed into one.

And then he did the most incredible thing. He slowly opened his eyes, and looked right at me.

I didn't know for sure if he could see me or not.

At first I almost ran away upon seeing his devil-like red eyes, then I realized that they were blood-shot from irritation, his body’s natural reaction to spending such a long time in an unnatural environment. Before they rolled back into his head, and his jaw once again sank down to rest on his chest, I noticed his eyes were really blue. The most gorgeous sky blue I'd ever seen in my life.

I placed a hand against the cold, damp glass, over the spot where his large palm pressed. That was as close as I could get to touching him. Even so, I got the strange sensation of a connection forming between us.

I wanted him, I wanted to throw caution to the wind and make this work of art my own. I didn't care what he'd done, what he was capable of, why he was there. I wanted to save him.

So I did.