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The drugs are still circling around my system and threatening to send me back into my darkness.
“ARGH,” I scream, feeling myself slip, but before I can step away strong arms wrap around my body and I’m hauled against a solid chest.
An ugly sob rips up my throat as his hold tightens.
I wriggle against him out of principle. I don’t want to want his comfort, his warmth, his strength, but damn it, my body melts into him despite my brain’s refusal.
Big, fat, ugly tears drip from my chin as I lose myself in his arms, in his scent, his comfort.
I have no idea how long we stand there, me trembling and sobbing in his arms and him physically holding me up as I fall apart.
I know I’m going to regret it later, showing him just how weak and vulnerable I am, but I’m powerless to stop it.
My eyes sting with the number of tears I’ve shed and my throat is raw from the mixture of screams and body-wracking sobs that have erupted from it.
I have no idea how long it takes, but eventually, I cry until I black out. I’m vaguely aware of my feet being swept up from the cold floor, but that’s it. I’m too lost in his warmth and the safety his arms provide.
* * *
I stretch my legs out, immediately noticing that I’m no longer lying against the solid bed that I was forced to use in that tiny, cold cell for however long I was in there.
Blinking my sore eyes open, a gasp rips past my lips as I realise where I am.
Theo’s bedroom.
Forcing my body to move, I drag myself so I’m sitting with my back against the headboard and look around the dark room.
The blinds are still open, but there’s no mistaking that it’s the middle of the night.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I push my gross hair back from my face.
From the state of it, I hate to think how long I’ve been out of it, how long I was captive downstairs.
But why? Why lock me up down there just to bring me up here once more?
My head spins with all the unknowns.
Glancing to my left, I find what I already knew.
I’m alone.
The bed is made, so he probably hasn’t been here.
I’m desperate to curl back under the warmth of the sheets and will my reality to disappear for a while longer—not that I’m stupid enough to think it wouldn’t immediately come back to me in the form of a nightmare.
I shudder as I think about the one I woke up from in that cell. It felt so real, the hatred in Theo’s eyes as he glared down at me. So raw.
A shiver runs through me, and when I look down, I find that the hoodie and sweats I’d stolen in my need to escape have been replaced with one of Theo’s shirts.
He changed me. He made me comfortable. Why?
My stomach growls loudly, and that along with my dire need for the toilet means that I don’t dive back under the covers and make the most of the comfort. Instead, I throw them back and pad toward the bathroom.
My legs are a little more stable than the last time I used them, and after I’ve peed and cleaned my teeth, I realise that my head is less fuzzy too.
I can only hope that means I won’t break down and curl into him the second I lay eyes on him.
Just thinking about how he comforted me makes fire burn through my veins.
