Scribbles and Drabbles

Whumptopher Day 1 part 2

At some point, Noah fell asleep in the car. How long he managed to stay awake was debatable. Time was fuzzy. Even before being kidnapped, he hadn't slept in a while and he was functioning more on energy drinks than food.

Waking on a bed was nice. Waking in darkness was not so much. Especially as he was chained up again. Padded cuffs around his ankles and wrists, something over his mouth to stop him screaming for help, but a soft pillow under his head and blankets tugged in around him. His arms weren't twisted but he couldn't move an inch. He was definitely in Duskwraith's care, but not yet obvious if Duskwraith had figured out who he was.

Symon wasn't as clever as he thought he was.

He certainly wasn't. Daring Duskwraith to hang him. Alveré and Errol were going to be furious with him.

He drifted in the dark for a while. He wasn't Alveré or Errol or any of the other flowers. He was the one the Gardener spent the least amount of time on. He wouldn't notice for a while that he was missing. Work might but he was an heir apparent. They jetted off without much warning on the regular and while he didn't for the normal reasons, it wasn't that unusual for him to disappear for a few days or so. Duskwraith could keep him as long as the man desired.

Eventually, a door creaked open. Heavy steps walked into the room and a lamp light was turned on behind him. Colour filled Noah's world. The distinct pattern of cheap motel wallpaper covered the wall he was facing. A faded green with indistinguishable chains splattered over it. The lamp tinted it orange.

It was childish and wouldn't fool Symon in the slightness, but Noah shut his eyes. It was quite fear running through him. Concern and worry but not yet fear. Dusk knew he was a flower. Dusk didn't go after flowers unless they got in the way or disobeyed.

Something heavy crashed to the ground slowly, almost like the man was trying not to wake him up too harshly. The mattress under him shifted and more things landed on the floor. Clips were undone, zippers released and a sign of relief filled the room as bones popped into place. The bed shifted again. Soft footsteps walked to the side, a hand running over his ankles before leaving.

Noah waited.

Another door opened and shut.

He kept waiting.

The shower started up. His shoulder's slumped a some of the tension in them vanished. He opened his eyes again and tried to look behind him. He couldn't shift much but there were the normal amenities of a motel room. The bed he was on was pressed up against the wall but there was a whole other bed next to it.

If he behaved, maybe Symon would let him change positions. His shoulder was aching. So was his throat but Noah doubted there was anything he could about that ignoring some painkillers. His ankle was throbbing, as were the lash mark littering his body.

He shifted his hip and winced as fire complained up his left side. Letting hi eyes shut again, he listened to the sound of the shower. It was almost soothing. Sound in a room where there was very little. Symon must have taken him out of the city. It would give credit to the idea that the man was about to treat him to the same delights he'd forced on the older flowers.