Today's OneWord: Pleading

I clung to the bars of my jail cell, silently pleading for another cup of water. I knew the warden could see the desperation dripping from my eyes, in the form of both sweat and tears, ridiculously salty and stinging the skin surrounding my nose. After a few minutes, she finally caved, filling a metal mug with lukewarm tap water and handing it to me.

"You can always ask," she murmured aggressively, which I knew was nonsense, but I happily accepted the opportunity to wet my parched tongue.