Dire {h.s.}

20

Ava Manakova

I haven't been around Harry long enough to know what he is like, and what his usual behavior is towards things. But from however many days I have been around him, watched him, heard him, my mind has concluded that he feels nothing and does not express any means of emotion towards anything that happens. And no, he isn't like a blank wall with no way of knowing who he truly is. Harry reminds me of a piece of art that you can't understand what it is or what it represents, and the whole point of it is to make you try to figure it out on your own however you interpret it.

And as this tall man stands in front of me with his eyes staring into mine, I am finally able to grasp an ounce of emotion within them.

"Ava?" he asks, cutting through the silence. I've been quiet since he's said it, unsure of what to really say. My mind is focusing on the fact that I've finally been able to catch a glimpse of Harry's genuine emotions.

I stare back at him with big eyes, unsure of how to answer him. He wants to help me, willingly and not because he feels like he has to. For once, Harry wants to do something for me all on his own.

"O-Okay," I say nervously, "help me."

Nodding, he presses his lips into a thin line before taking a step back to grab the towel from behind me on the sink, our eyes never leaving one anothers. Harry walks towards the shower and slides opent the glass door of it. He turns the faucet of water all the way to the other side to start running hot water from it.

Why is he using the shower to get hot water instead of the sink behind me?

Harry swipes his hand underneath the running water to test for its heat, satisfied, he holds the towel underneath for a few seconds before turning back around to me.

He folds the towel full of hot water in half as he approaches me again. "I'm going to put this on your neck, the heat should help the bruises go away quicker."

I nod, too in awe of what he's doing. He's being gentle with me willingly, and I can't wrap my head around it. I watch as Harry brings the towel to my neck, feeling the heat electrify through me with a single touch. But the warmth of it makes me melt into an ease of relaxation. This feels good. My eyes shut at the sensation, but I can still feel his own stare back at me, watching my reaction as he presses the towel sternly against my skin.

¨Does it feel alright?¨ he asks,

I nod in his hold on me, feeling all the pain and sensitivity melt away for just a moment as I ease into his touch.

The feeling of something cold against my neck makes my eyes open wide, and I find a small plastic tube held between Harry's fingers as he delicately applies a cream to bruises.

"What's that?" I ask,

"It's supposed to help with bruises and sensitivity." He says, keeping his eyes glued to my neck.

"Oh," is all I manage to say, appreciating his thoughtfulness for now because it's the only time I'll get it.

He nods and continues to apply it to both sides, his brows knit together in concentration to where that cute little crease occurs in the middle––

Did I just call it cute?

Ava, what the hell is wrong with you?

I guess at this moment, now that he's being all nice to be for some reason, my brain is forgetting who he really is and what he's done in the past to make him the horrible person he is. But it would be nice for just a second to see him as a normal guy doing a sweet gesture for me. But, he's my kidnapper, and I need to ground myself back to reality before my brain falls into another world that will never exist. One where he's not my kidnapper.