infatuation

II

[ chapter 2 ]

august 12
3:30 p.m
boca raton, florida

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I squirm and squirm but to no prevail. All I was doing was making a shit ton of noise. I began scanning the area for absolutely anything that I could use to get rid of these shackles. Nothing. All that was around me were rusty metal bars, dusty concrete with stains of whatever - whoever - the fuck was here before.

I take a deep breath and lean my head against the moldy wall. Honestly, I'm exhausted. It's been - well honestly I don't even know how long since the day I woke up in here. A week? Two weeks? Shit, it could be a month and I wouldn't have a single clue. Every waking moment felt the exact same; the amount of deja vu I've experienced so far is making me mad.

I haven't heard a peep from the fellow prisoner in so long, I'm worried he's dead already. To be honest, I have no idea how long he's been in here for so I probably shouldn't be saying "already". I'd rather be dead and I more than likely haven't been in here as long as he has.

Surprisingly, I'm brought out of my deep train of thought by an unfamiliar voice.

"Psst! Psst!" My eyebrows furrow as I squint around the very poorly lit 'room'. "Uh, yes?" I reply hesitantly. That's when I notice those same green eyes staring at me intensely. They were dull, but still shone brighter than the barely working lightbulb in the middle of, what I assume, is a basement.

"What's your name?" His raspy voice spoke out in a hushed tone. His voice was so rough, it could've been described as almost rusty. I could only imagine how dry his mouth and throat must be, as mine is slowly falling into a drought as well.

"Y/n, you?" I reply, my own voice very hoarse and exhausted. It took him a minute to reply, which confused me. "Hello?" I called out again.

"Sorry. I-I," He stops again. "I d-don't remember." He admitted, seeming just as confused as I was. I could feel my chest clench at the thought. He must've had to be down here for forever if he doesn't even remember his own name. "I'm sorry." I mumbled, though the area was so quiet I knew he heard me. The two words practically echoed.

Silence.

I didn't know what to say, so I kept it that way. Silent. I was slipping in and out of consciousness when he snapped me out of it again.

"I-I think my name was," He stopped. My jaw clenched and my head tilted. Did he know or did he not?

"Malcolm."

"Y/n?" Fingers were aggressively snapped in front of my face. My head shook and I looked down to notice Ariana was still standing there. The room was uncomfortably silent. I looked around only to notice no one else was in here. Not even Zayn or Billie. It was just me and a woman I once considered my best friend.

"Yes?" Cold. My tone was cold and I couldn't help it. Like I said before, I don't know how to feel about her.

"Can we please talk? Please." She seemed desperate. Frantically looking back and forth between both of my eyes. She was searching for any sort of answer or emotion. I was sure she wouldn't find it in there. A shit ton of practice would be the reason for that. If I wanted to seem numb or emotionless; I did.

"About what?" Her eyebrows furrow and she shoots me a look. "You know damn well what it's about. I just," She sighed. "I don't wanna do it in here. Is there somewhere private we could go? My house, your car, your house?" She suggests. I shrugged.