Love me, Love me

•~30~•

A/N: Mateo/Lime's POV. I think I'll have to make a Book 2 kind of thing. 👍

•>•>•<•<•

There was smoke. It felt heavy. It spread throughout the space faster than we could attack. You had us before we could even attempt anything

My pencil suddenly breaks, dark charcoal snapping across the white sheet of paper in front of me. Before I can think of anything else to do, my hand swipes over the lead which causes it to spread evenly among the material. I let out an aggravated breath, glancing around my block room. The walls are metal, as are most of the furniture pieces. My bed with just the one grey blanket, the chair I'm currently sitting in, and the desk I've been using to write on. I know what I have to do but I just don't think I can. I try to get over myself, standing from the chair and walking to the door. It's only two or three paces.

I knock sheepishly on the door, leaning gently against it. A sliver of metal is pulled away, revealing a slit in the door at about my sightline. A pair of eyes awaits me, forcing my body to jolt backward to stand a little farther away from the door. I didn't expect him to answer my request so quickly.

"What do you need?" the deep voice asks, eyes burning angrily into mine. He must be upset that I interrupted his free time. Poor soul.

"I broke my pencil, I need new paper and a sharpener," I answer fast, nodding compliantly.

He lets out another one of his dramatic sighs, shutting the little eyehole as I hear footsteps down the hallway. While he's gone, I stay standing in my same spot. I take a moment to debate a possible escape plan. There's that voice in my head again, telling me it's impossible and that I'll never escape. God, I'm such a pessimist, it's bumming me out.

There surely has to be some way out of here. It definitely doesn't feel like it but I really want there to be so I examine my past week here. Meals of salad three times a day, five minute walks every other day. The rest of my time isn't scheduled, I'm free to do what I want in these four walls. I can't forget the letters.

I hear a knock of warning on the door so I collect myself, pretending that I wasn't just thinking about escaping. He would be able to tell if he sensed the slightest hint of rebellion on my skin. It's like he's constantly daring me to even think about killing him. It's like he wants me to wonder how to do this.

The door opens and my guard comes in. There haven't been any others as long as I've been here. I don't see anyone else while we go on our walks, apart from one woman who looked like she was a scientist.

My guard is tall, muscular, white, brown haired. He looks pretty generic and mostly like a pretty normal guy. If I saw him walking down the street, I would probably think he was at some fancy college, studying to become a lawyer or some shit. But he's here with me, making sure I don't get into any trouble.

He walks to my desk as I back up against the wall, I've gotten used to the routine by now. I watch silently as he switches out my tarnished materials with a new sheet of paper and a small pencil just like my last one. He takes something from his pocket and places it on the table, looking over at me. His eyes are blue, piercing through me just like Juniper's used to do.

Don't fucking think about her.

"Better?" my guard asks, eyebrows raising to be certain.

"Yeah, thanks," I say, nodding and offering the tiniest of smiles.

He nods back, heading for the still open door but pausing in the doorway. He looks at the ground then back up at me, seeming to be debating with something. I can't quite place what he's thinking but it doesn't seem good. I'm almost too afraid to ask. Almost.

"Something else?" I ask, tilting my head to the side as his eyes jump back to mine.

He swallows down the lump in his throat, shaking his head and then walking directly out of my room/cell. I shake off the abnormal interaction, pacing back over to my desk to reevaluate what I've earned and if it'll be useful. The paper, the pencil, and something else is sitting on the desk. I bury my curiosity by picking up the tiny scrap piece of paper and lifting it up to my eyes.

It reads the simple word, "Parker."

I take a pause, figuring that this note is his name. It certainly fits him well enough, I don't take issue with that. What I take issue with is the fact that he told me. Why the hell would someone whose role is to guard me, without any interaction, tell me his name? Unless, he's not really with these people and he's a friend. I have no idea what the case is but something's telling me to sleep. Writing that next letter can wait until tomorrow. Especially when my survival practically hinges on the completion of it.

•>•>•<•<•

She pops into my head when I wake up. Her image is plastered on the ceiling from my staring at it so often. Juniper Brown, the one thing that won't leave me the hell alone. I try so hard not to think of her all day long but I fail every single time. Is she suffering here like I am? Does she wonder about where I am and if I'm alright?

I decide to ignore my thoughts of her, pulling myself from bed but feeling this spike of pain through my spine. The bed isn't very comfortable since I only have the one blanket so I have to lay directly on the metal. But I stretch out the soreness, walking back to my desk and sitting in the chair. I grab the pencil, tapping it a few times on the surface before beginning to write.

Parker told me when I first got here that Connie wanted me to write her letters consisting of everything that happened on the ship. He said she'd know if I was lying because they had the security footage. He said she wanted to know what I felt during the events, she wanted to know my insights and past problems. He said she'd kill me if I didn't give her what she wanted. He said it would be a slow, painful death. So, here I am, writing her a bunch of letters so I don't get tortured to death. I shouldn't be surprised about how this all turned out.

Once I'm finished with the letter, I slip it under the door as I have always been instructed to. I hear the crinkling of paper and then footsteps. I take the opportunity to examine the door as I have done before. There isn't a doorknob on my side but I know there's one on his. I run my fingertip down the sliver of light that I can see coming from the other side. Nothing piques my interest, the same as the last fifty times I've done this. I'm starting to think I'll never get out of this place.

The door opens abruptly, shocking me backward until I fall onto my ass. I quickly regain composure, looking up at the doorway and seeing Parker there. He has a panicked look on his face as he glances down the hall then back down at me. I can sense that something must be wrong, his expression says it all.

"Everything alright?" I ask slowly, knowing for a fact that it isn't.

He looks down the hall again then at me, shaking his head slowly. "Tengo que sacarte de aqui." I have to get you out of here.

WORD COUNT: 1325

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