Stockholm Syndrome

8. Stockholm Syndrome

I waken. I keep my eyes closed but smile. I smile because I can still smell the cologne on J from last night. My face was pulled into his chest, his arm wrapped around me with his big hands against my bare back that was exposed from my halfway pulled up shirt. I realize that my hand is on his chest, feeling that his heart is beating at a normal rate. I also feel that his breathing is steady. I lift my head up, still smiling. I finally open my eyes to notice J still sleeping. I stare at his lips, they look so pink and soft... so smooth. I find myself getting closer to them as I imagined him kissing me a few days back, I didn't even kiss back. I can't help but get him back for that, he should be up soon anyways, I've never been up before him. I lean in more and start thinking to myself... If he can kiss me, why can't I kiss him? I decide I'll do what my gut tells me and if he hurts me.. then.. that's my fault. I kiss his lips, I feel him start to wake up because he hesitates, but he kisses me back. I feel him move his hand to the small of my back and pull me closer in to him. We're kissing, I'm kissing a man who's kidnapped me. I feel as if I have a case of Stockholm syndrome.

Stockholm Syndrome; feelings of trust or affection felt in certain cases of kidnapping or hostage-taking by a victim toward a captor.

We pull away and he says nothing, staring into my eyes. "That's for kissing me," I tell him. "Nice payback," he responds. I bite my bottom lip slightly and get up, I'm wearing a big t-shirt of his and some spandex that make me look like I'm not wearing anything underneath the shirt. "Let's go outside," I say happily. "It's raining," he says blankly while looking at me like I'm crazy. "I know, that's what makes it fun!" I exclaim. "Am I allowed outside?" I wonder because I was not aloud to before. "In the backyard you can," he says still laying down. I tell him he has to come with me but he refuses. "Come on," I grab his arm. "Let go," he says.

I sigh, annoyed with his attitude already. He rolls his eyes and says fine. We get outside and I run in the rain while J stays dry on the small patio he built himself. "Come on, it's fun!" I yell out to him. "I don't like fun!" He yells back so I hear him. I laugh and shake my head. I drop my head back, letting the rain fall onto my face and hair. I throw my arms back like I'm free. I do wish I was free. Standing out in the rain makes me feel like I'm little and playing with my friends again. "I don't mind spending everyday, out on your corner in the pouring rain. Look for the girl with a broken smile, ask her if she wants to stay a while and she will be loved," I sing out the Maroon 5 song, She Will be Loved. "Come on!" I giggle and run over to him. "You sing well," he compliments me. I get shy and thank him. I beg him some more. "No, I'm not going out there in the pouring rain, I don't like getting wet unless I'm in the shower," he explains and stays seated. "You know you want toooooooo!" I spin and fall on my butt. I start laughing. Along with my laugh I hear another, it was J. J is actually laughing, he's... smiling. I stay on the ground and look at him smile, "You're smiling!" I point, unnecessarily way too excited. "No I'm not," he stops smiling. I probably shouldn't have said anything. "Whatever," I laugh and shiver. I tell him I'm ready to go back inside because I'm getting cold. He goes inside to grab me a towel and then comes back. I stand by the door inside because there is a rug there and I don't want to get water all over his house. "Give me your shirt and pants," he holds out his hand. I question him. "Oh, come on, I've seen your body already, give me your clothes so I can dry them." Oh. I take them off and hand them to him which makes me dry off quicker. As he is in his laundry room I go upstairs to change my bra and panties. After changing those I grab one of J's sweatshirts, I'm sure he won't mind. I then put on my own sweatpants that actually fit me. I put the hoodie of the sweatshirt up and hug myself because I'm cold. "You're going to sick," he says coming into the room, sitting down by me. "No I'm not, I don't get sick." I laugh it off. "Nice sweatshirt, where'd you get it?" He teases knowing it's his, I laugh nervously. All of a sudden I hear a loud crash of thunder that makes the house shake. I squeal and jump on J while covering my ears and digging my face into his chest. "Emily, it's just thunder," he explains as if he were talking to a child. I back away from him and see lighting, I jump again but not on him this time. "I don't like thunderstorms, J, it's just a thing of mine." I'm embarrassed. 18 year old Emily Miller is scared of thunderstorms! Ha, she might as well be 8 and not 18! I make fun of myself in my head. "You'll be okay," he assures me. I jump 5 more times after that before J takes me in his arms. "Don't think I'll be doing this all the time," he says. I hug his waist while his arms are around me. "I don't care," I dig my face into his chest again. Lets just say... this was a long night.