The Innocent Target

Chapter Five

She hummed awake. Oh, the senses around her. The scent of that strong musk lurking around it almost felt euphoric. Stretching her arms out. She opened her ears to stare at the dimly lit, yellow room. The ceiling was a clear white with small patterns etched around the corners, like a border, by the walls. She licked her lips, sitting up and released her coat was off. She was in her sweater and it dragging a bit too much off of her shoulder. Picking it up, she sighed at the sight of snow collecting by the tall window in by the side. Getting up, she made way across the soft white carpet under feet and stood by the tall lamp brightened by the window. Outside had a large green pot sitting with blooming fake leaves, collecting snow on its poking tiny twigs. The sky was still dark and the moon showing somewhere she couldn't find it to be. When she looked back, the room was unfamiliar. A little beautiful really. One big bed with six maroon pillows set by the head, with two white ones in the back. A thick paired duvet and two dark wood side tables. The lamps on top were turned off, making it impossible to see the painting above on the wall. The door that she'd just noticed clicked open and a bare chested, tall man walked in. She gasped, slapping hands to her mouth before recognizing the face.

"What?" He asked, picking up a shirt from a duffle bag set on the chest near the door. As he started putting it on, she groaned.

"I thought it was all just a bad dream." She moaned.

"That makes two of us." He answered, finishing buttoning up his shirt, "You can clean up."

"You kidnapped me for this?" She fought, crossing her arms.

"Wasn't my first choice either. Some clothes for you over there. Hopefully they fit." He pulled a gun out from his bag and started checking it. She looked at herself and found her boots missing as well.

"You didn't have to take my clothes off." She fought.

"Coat and boots don't count. You were sweating up."

"Thanks to you." She grumbled.

"I didn't ask you to drink that water."

"You don't just put roofied water out in the open! It's inviting!" She hissed.

"I have an answer for that. But I'm busy."

"You're just sitting!" She stomped her foot.

"There's a bed here. It was inviting." He answered, too busy checking the bullets in his gun.

"Are you ever going to tell me what I'm doing here with you?" She groaned. He didn't say anything. Hissing in irritation, she headed for the stack of clothes and picked up a t-shirt and recognized it immediately, "These are mine!" Her eyes widened.

"Mhmm." Was all he said.

"You stole them?"

No answer.

"Oh, you little..." She mumbled swears and headed for the bathroom.

"Leave it open." He spoke.

"No." She fought, slamming the door shut, only it didn't click with the frame and he had a hand slapped on its board, keeping it open.

"Keep. It. Open." He spoke with a ticked jaw.

"I need to pee."

He didn't budge.

"I'm so not fucking doing it in front of you. It's disgusting!" She gasped.

"You have two minutes." He slammed it close, "And I have a key." He spoke over the door. She rolled her eyes and quickly peed as promised. As soon as she flushed, the door open and he stood there.