He watched her undress without moving, a peculiar stillness overtaking him. His tongue came out across dry lips, wetting them, but otherwise he stayed absolutely still, watching. His breathing was soft and heavy, but strangely loud in the quiet of the office, with only the background whir of machinery and the very distant shrilling of an alarm to interrupt. Some part of his mind said he should pay attention to that alarm, but he didn't look away from her, from the careful mechanical removal of her clothing. When the jumpsuit was off, when he could look at her fully, he swallowed hard. "Stand up," he murmured, his voice distant in his own ears. "You're very beautiful, Sommer," he murmured. "You have nothing to hide. You have nothing to hide from me. I'm the Overseer. I see everything." Then his eyes narrowed and that frown, quick and capricious, flitted across his features.<br/><br/>"Take those off. They're wasted on you," he motioned to the underwear, his gentle tone taking a turn for the worst, cold and harsh and angry. He didn't like to see her wearing anything. He liked to watch her move and stand. He liked to look at her body, her breasts. He liked the trickle of blood oozing down her lip, he liked that so much it was an aching, a fist in the center of his chest and a fire in him that made him stir and ache. He wanted to see her bleed like that.<br/><br/>"You have to understand," he said softly, almost pleading as he watched her. "This is what I'm doing for you. This is what you have to learn. We were founded, this place, this great paradise, as a system. A system with everyone in their places. I'm trying to teach you right from wrong, Sommer. I want you to be happy. But to be happy, you have to know your place here." He took a step away from her, one hand absently loosening the buttons on his fine, pre-war pants. "You look very nice like that," he said with quiet pleasure. "But I think we can do better."