L'Amour Fou (bxb)

Chapter 4

I grabbed a clean towel from the wardrobe and headed towards the bathroom. Fuck knows what sort of insanitary room he kept me in, as well as which part of the car he placed my unconscious, vulnerable body in. The thoughts of those hostile conditions disgusted me. All I wanted right now was to be clean.

I locked the door behind me, slipped off my clothes and entered the shower. I have to admit it though, this man seems to have a lot of money, and a great taste in interior design. The bathroom was a beautiful gray color, with a large mirror, marble sink and subtle lights surrounding the room. Finally, I turned the handle of the shower on, causing warm water to rush out of the shower head. I let out a sigh of relief with complete satisfaction that I am finally becoming clean.

I lost track of time before I realized when I was finished. I switched off the water and hopped onto the floor towel, drying myself with the large towel that enveloped my body. Cautiously looking in both directions, I crept my way to the bedroom, avoiding being watched by him. Sliding into my pajamas, I was ready to doze off in a deep slumber, until I heard a loud knock from my door.

"May I come in?" he asked politely.
"Y-yeah, sure." I replied. Ugh, what did he want now?!
"Are you hungry? I can prepare you some dinner, it's only 7pm."
I was shocked by his act of consideration. I doubt kidnappers even gave their victims this much freedom. Well, I was yet to find out that freedom is only temporary.

"No I'm not hungry. I just want to sleep. Thanks anyway though." I chose my words carefully; in reality, I just didn't want to be around him. I felt uncomfortable. Suddenly, curiosity got to the best of me.
"I've never asked you this but, what's your name?" I asked pensively, instantly regretting my choices of words.

"You can call me Amica Mea."
"Amica Mea?" I repeated aloud. I've never heard of that name before; it sounds Italian or maybe even Latin. I looked at him carefully now, examining his features. I mean. He could be Italian. He had a slightly tanned complexion and a chiseled, sharp jawline with a short beard and moustache. But what was evident the most for me was his eyes. They were. Different. There was something hidden in them, a story that was yet to be told, which he purposely kept to himself. Trauma. Emotional detachment. Trouble. Insecurity. I could sense it all and realized there must've been a reason behind why he would commit an act like this.

I didn't manage to ask him whether he knew my name before I saw that he was going down the stairs. But that didn't matter to me, at least I knew that his name, which is probably fake, is Amica Mea.

I brushed my teeth vigorously. Up. Down. To the left. To the right. Repeat. I was an organized person who had to do everything in a certain order and if I didn't, it just stressed me out a lot.

I sleepily made my way to my bed, collapsing on top of it and smiling. This bed was so soft, and it felt exactly like the one I had, just the way I like it. My head melted inside my pillow and I covered myself with the duvet entirely. No matter what, I was always so cold, and I was considering going to the doctor's about it, but thought it was way too trivial.

Eventually, I fell asleep and forgot all about what happened today. I didn't have the energy to overthink and worry about it, I was too tired to.

* * *

It was morning already. I turned around to my bedside to be presented with an alarm clock signalling "8:20". It felt weird with the absence of my phone and not waking up to the sounds of my alarm. I was meant to work in a few days, how was I meant to go there?

I got up and put on my slippers, right foot first. I walked to the bathroom, counting my places and brushed my teeth. Up. Down. To the left. To the right. Repeat. I went to my bedroom and made my bed. I slid the curtains as my eyes squinted at the sight of daylight. It was the first time I saw daytime in a while. I observed the scenery which surrounded this house, and a shiver sent down my spine when I realized I was in the middle of nowhere. Trees surrounded the landscape, with no buildings nearby. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

I headed downstairs and I was welcomed with a good morning by him.
"Good morning." I repeated, without looking at him in the eye.
"I need to go to the grocer's to buy some food. I'll be back in around an hour." He exclaimed.

He left the house as I looked outside through the window to see whether his car has left the driveway yet. His car was quite large, and a beautiful black colour. I couldn't tell which make it was, but it was not like I cared anyways. Eventually, the car faded away into the deep forest, until I could not hear anything anymore.

Alone. I was finally alone. It felt as if the gun pointed at my head was finally retrieved from my head, or that there was no bullets left in the gun. Looking around this place started to make me feel suffocated; the walls were hostile, the size was strangling, the atmosphere was intense. I only had one thing that was in my mind. Escape.

I had to escape from this place. How was I meant to trust Amica Mea and his words? There were some secrets residing in his heart, his eyes, his soul. But maybe it was best if they were kept untouched. My life wasn't that good anyway but I knew I had something to live for, a duty. I need to survive.

I have to escape. To survive. And I will try to get away from here, no matter how difficult it might be.