Against the clock

8.

'Derek, you okay?' I asked, observing him on the floor, clearly still recovering from the fight and the shocks. He pulled himself up to sit. 'I'm okay. I'm okay. What about you? Did he hurt you?' he asked, locking eyes with me. He was close, since he was untied.

The door swung open abruptly, and a bottle of water landed on the ground. 'Thank God,' I muttered, and Derek swiftly seized it. The door closed, and Derek returned to my side. 'I've never been happier with fruit,' I said, offering a lighthearted remark in the midst of our unsettling circumstances. Derek, now holding the bottle of water, looked at me with concern. 'Here, let me help you,' he said gently, realizing the difficulty of my situation. I nodded, my throat parched and body aching from the ordeal.

Derek kneeled beside me, the bottle in his hand. 'I'm going to pour it into your mouth, alright?' he explained, his tone reassuring. I nodded again, and opened my mouth bracing for the humiliating yet necessary act. The room's oppressive silence hung over us as Derek carefully tilted the bottle, allowing a stream of water to flow into my waiting mouth.

The sensation was oddly intimate, a stark contrast to the dehumanizing experiences we had endured. Derek's eyes locked onto mine, conveying a silent understanding and empathy. He controlled the flow, ensuring I could swallow without choking. It was a brief reprieve from the torment, a small act of humanity in the midst of our harrowing circumstances. 'Is that enough?' Derek asked, concern etched across his face. I nodded, grateful for the relief the water provided. 'Thank you,' I whispered, my voice hoarse. He took a few sips himself.

Sensing my hunger, Derek reached down to retrieve the fruit scattered on the floor. 'Let's get you something to eat. Which one do you want?" he asked with a gentle smile, trying to inject a bit of normalcy into our bizarre situation. 'Maybe the banana? It has more calories in it,' he suggested, starting to peel the banana. 'No, no, I can take the apple,' I replied, nodding toward the apple. 'We could split if you want to? If you're comfortable to?' Derek suggested, offering to share the fruit.

As I nodded in agreement, Derek brought the apple  to my lips. The simple act of feeding, though constrained by our circumstances, carried an unexpected tenderness. Derek's eyes were focused on mine, a shared moment of connection amidst the bleakness of our captivity. He continued to feed me, bite by bite, each morsel a testament to the fragile humanity that endured within the confines of our shared ordeal.

Derek's hands were gentle as he continued to feed me. The taste of the fruit was a welcome relief, a reminder of the world beyond the cold, dimly lit room. The room's oppressive atmosphere seemed to momentarily lift as we shared this peculiar moment.

As the apple was half eaten, Derek shifted his attention to the banana. Peeling it carefully, he brought it to my mouth. 'Open wide,' he said with a soft smile, his attempt to inject a touch of normalcy into our abnormal situation. I complied, allowing him to feed me the banana.

The act of being fed, bound and vulnerable, created an unspoken bond between us. It was an intimate dance of survival, a shared understanding that transcended the physical constraints imposed upon us. Derek's eyes never wavered from mine, a silent conversation transpiring between us, acknowledging the surreal nature of our circumstances.

'You know,' Derek began, his voice a low murmur, 'we'll find a way out of this. We have to.' His words, though filled with determination, carried an underlying vulnerability. I nodded in agreement, grateful for the flicker of hope he ignited. The last bite of  my part of the banana marked the end of our makeshift meal. Derek leaned back eating his parts, the gravity of our situation settling over us once more. 'We can't let him break us,' he said, his gaze unwavering. 'We won't,' I replied, the shared defiance strengthening our resolve.