𝗜𝗻𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆, 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

2 | 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬

NORA'S POV ❣︎

TWO YEARS AGO

Trigger Warning:

Mentions of kidnapping and panic attacks.

꧁꧂

I awoke from a dreamless slumber, a headache roused as I struggled to get up.

It was all a blur as I enacted an observation to my surroundings; confusion spreading throughout my thoughts.

My struggling came to a conclusion after I realized there were restraints over my arms and legs, as its metal cooled my skin, erupting a shiver that ran down my spine in comparison to the sweat on my forehead.

I could feel strands of my hair clumped and clinging on my jaw, indicating that I'd put up quite a fight before I ended up here. I also felt the smooth texture of silk sheets, plus the warmth emitting from the duvet.

Memories soon resurfaced as the sedation causes me to feel drowsy, distorting my memories as to how I got into these unruly restraints and where the actual hell am I?

Soon, I realized that I had managed to get myself kidnapped and with the obvious reaction a person should get, I started to panic.

The somewhat unnoticed tears fell down my cheeks, I hyperventilated thinking that this was the defining moment.

I would die, I would be stuck— rotting in this dark vast chamber for the rest of my life.

Each minute I spent in that room felt like centuries, as the only concern I had was leaving this place which seemed impossible.

Soon, I noticed a large, brooding figure striding toward my direction and I assumed this would be the person holding me hostage plus completing the effortless task of murdering me.

The lights came on, it's brightness from the grand chandelier causing me to wince.

The most gruesome realization came as I recognized the figure. It was obviously the man from the Café. It alarmed me that I had 'met,' him prior to my kidnapping.

He stood there with nothing to say nor any visible emotion on his face making me grimace.

Though I was terrified, I would not show it.

Through every kidnapping documentary and procedures of escape, that I have indulged in; none came to mind.

The very thought of hopelessness ended my facade of confidence,  I refused to crumble in front of my captor.

He stood in front of my bed with complete adoration in his eyes, as the unsettling fear of something happening without my consent arises in my stomach.

That was one of the most terrifying thoughts of my life.

Society was brutal; what if I became an outcast just because my purity was somehow tainted?

I wanted to beg.

He seemed alluringly ruthless, which was even more intimidating— seeing him there impassive.

I felt unvarying tremors as I began to crumble as feared, sobbing.

What else could I do?

With these restraints I couldn't move; he definitely wouldn't be able to be emotionally manipulated by me.

Escaping was unfeasible and all I could think of was how afraid I was of that man in front of me.

As my sobs turned into whimpers, his jaw clenched— as if he was in anguish; witnessing the tears streaming down my face.