Unravelled Plaits

Shivering - Kristina

Huddling on the bed, hugging my legs to my chest and my forehead resting on my knees, I think. What's happened so far? I've been kidnapped, raped, told I am owned, told I am not owned, and loved the guy who apparently owns me? What's wrong with me!? There's gotta be something, because that is wrong on so many levels. I think I'm probably just -ex-yu-aly frustrated, lusting... I don't know. But he is fit, I won't deny that, and he is caring, or so it seems... But going as far as loving him? That's insane. I met him like, two days ago...

But deep down inside me, something says, "he's the one, he's the one, he's the one," a constant drumming.

"Krissy?" I look up, eyes wide, zoned out of it.
"Hm?" I ask. I don't even know.
"I asked if you were cold," he said, looking slightly... I would say skeptical but it doesn't make sense. The way his face looked was skeptical, but what he meant and said and how he acted weren't.
"Oh, um, a little..." I hug my knees tighter to my chest because my heart is beating so hard I'm almost certain he'd be able to hear it and it needs to be drowned out.
"Hang on," he turns around and takes a biggish box from behind the arm chair. From it, he's pulling out assorted shirts and jeans and pants and stuff, until he finds what he's looking for. It's sailing towards me and I catch it, a blue hoodie with a faded Superman logo emblazoned on the chest. I look up at him with curious eyes, and he nods a little.
"You can, uh, you can keep it," he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck. He rubs his tattered shoe across the floor, trying not to look at me, and even though he's trying to do it discreetly, I know what he's doing - I've done it a plenty.
Pulling on the sweater, an immediate warmth seeps through my body, and I can't help my eyes from closing with sheer indulgence because the hoodie smells of him, it has the smell of his warmth and hugs and Lynx and everything and it smells of sweetness and autumn and everything.

It smells like love.

If I ever get out, im turning myself in at a mental institute.

Or hiring a therapist.