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Being at Harry's at night felt different than the day.
She didn't have to imagine what the lights strung across the deck looked like at twilight because she could see it for herself now.
Daisy didn't have to ask him to look for the key, or whether they would be heading back, because she already knew the answer. They rowed a quarter's worth of the lake and her biceps hurt like she deadlifted a bull. Kayaks are doable, Jon boats.. not so much.
"Good thing I have two beds, eh?"
Harry doesn't seemed bothered by the fact they ran out of gas. If anything, he has an unusual glow about him. He finds enjoyment in this, loves roping her into situations she can't see her way out of. Control is his ulterior motive and she is nothing short of submissive. Her taking that shot in the bar tonight proved this much. Her mind is so malleable.
But he won't do anything to her. Not now.
"It's cold in here."
She is shivering in the open door of the main living area. He leans over and forces them shut, tugging her in. She stumbles when she walks, not because she's inebriated by any means but her limbs are so cold she can't move them. Her body has fallen into the arms of rigor mortis and she needed a heater to find her way out.
"I have two solutions to that, one is shutting the door behind you, the other.." Harry pushes up the seats to one of the booths in the dining area, where a stack of hefty wool blankets are folded, "is a shit ton of these."
It's crazy, she thinks, how strange a place can look and feel at a different time of day. Like a song where the lyrics are the same but the rhythm is slower than normal, or distorted in a way that makes it unrecognizable. Natural light no longer floods the windows, instead they are covered in blacked out curtains and the main source of visibility is replaced with a single overhead bulb. The room is a mix of yellow and orange with glimmers of blue from the plugged in nightlights below the cabinets. The water faucet makes dripping sounds that her ears can't tune out because it is one of the only sounds for miles. And they are alone.
"Thanks again, I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this. I try my best not to be a burden." She takes the blankets and starts to unfold them, laying one down on the couch to hopefully warm the leather cushions.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Daisy freezes. The accusatory question triggers her fight or flight. Her breathing quickens and she can't find the right words to say. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be the answer he was looking for, because anyone could tell what she was doing but that didn't mean it should be done.
