Aurora's Point Of View
Glazed arrays of sunlight coax my stiff body awake, and I realize I'm right where I left off-handcuffed to a chair. Still kidnapped. I look up to the window above me and see the melatonin bottle still covered on the window sill. I'm surprised I fell asleep on my own, and who knows what's really in that bottle.
I look to the bed to see the covers tossed aside, Arlan gone. My joints ache from sitting uncomfortably for so long, so I stretch out my legs before looking down to my cuffed left hand. I move it slightly, the metal handcuff chain clinking.
"Good morning."
The door bursts open and I whip my head up and seize all movements to see Arlan in black jeans and a black hoodie. My heart begins pounding with anxiety, I can only assume my pupils are dilated. His obsidian ringlets drip with shower water over his eyes as the rich, clean smell of blackberry body wash emits from him. He comes over to me and kisses my forehead, wet curly hair touching my forehead, making my stomach sink in disgust, before he goes over to his bedside table. I watch as he puts his black and silver rings on his tattooed fingers, one by one. He winces slightly and I notice a white bandage over his pinky on his left hand. It looks like he had gotten another tattoo. Didn't he have enough...?
He turns over to me and offers a small, hospitable smile. "Will you join me for breakfast?"
"I'd rather not," I mumble sourly, my voice raspy and unrecognisable. He laughed.
"I'm sorry, let me rephrase," His voice went deeper, darker, in a chill-inducing tone he spoke, "You're going to join me for breakfast."
"No I'm not," I mumble. He exhaled curtly in exasperation.
"Yeah, I'm starting to think you really do have a handcuff kink. Come on," He came towards me.
"Stop it," I said louder, looking away from him. "Don't touch me, just leave me alone."
"Aurora," He snarled gruffly, leaning over me with his hands on the arms of the chair. "Don't start with this attitude shit again," He lifted my chin with one finger, "Now, you're gonna come down or so help me God, I'll make you. Say Yes Sir."
I give him a glare full of hatred.
"I'm not,"-
I shriek as I feel my feet off the ground and look around, bewildered, to see he's lifted the chair and we're moving out of the room.
"Arlan, okay, okay!" I whimper, terrified, gripping the arm chairs. I look down to see I'm high off the ground. "Please, I don't want you to drop this I could get hurt!" He's lifted an entire 500 pound chair and is actually carrying me down! I can't believe he has this much strength, I don't hear him groaning and the chair doesn't wobble. It terrifies me seeing how much stronger he is than me.
"I told you," His voice was slightly strained as we start to make our way down the stairs. I whimper loudly, wincing tightly and shutting my eyes. He's carrying this down the stairs?!! He's definitely going to drop me! "Either you...come down...or I'll...make you!"
So much for him saying he understands my anxiety, here he is enabling it! Thankfully, by the grace of God, I feel myself being settled down. When I hear him sit across from me, I open my eyes hesitantly. He's already wolfing down a bowl of cereal in annoyance, not looking at me. I'm panting quietly, my chest heaving, just thankful that I'm not hurt.
I can't believe he did that! I could've fallen down the stairs and broke my neck!
Looking down, I see a large serving of colorful fruit loops bobbing in milk. I have no appetite.
