starry eyes ✮ slashers.

chapter 030.

thirty. hiding how you feel.

          It's tiring. Lyra is so sick of relying on Bo Sinclair to untie her so she can use the bathroom. She's sick of his kind words and his attempts at manipulation and she's so sick of knowing Freddy's watching with the widest grin, reclined comfortably on a dream copy of the bed she's restrained to.

"I'm fucking starving." She grumbles, Bo looking up from the device in his palms. A phone, she misses having one of those, she could've talked to boys, to Carrie, to her mother. Anyone who'd listen. Anyone but Bo fucking Sinclair. The phone grasps his attention again with a small buzz and Lyra glares at him. "Who are you messaging?" Bo clenches his jaw, moving swiftly towards her. When a pocket knife nears her wrists, Lyra can't help but panic ever so slightly.

"It's none of ya fucking business." His change of attitude is wild, after attempting to sweet-talk her for an entire week, hoping to convince her to stay, he'd grown sick of his unappreciated efforts. "And watch that attitude." He adds, the knife cutting through the rope around one wrist, then the other. Her arms fall limp and she watches as he saunters out the room.

Is this freedom? Had he grown so tired of her so quickly? The corners of her lips threaten to let a smile escape. She rubs her wrists to ease their soreness, a habit she'd fallen to ever time he'd untied her. He'd never simply cut the ropes before. Could that mean they won't be used again?

Finding her feet, her legs shake ever-so-slightly, dizziness rushing to her Stomach and head. Her body finds movement unexpected, attacking her in surprise. Lyra clutches the edge of the drawers beside the bed, she takes a careful step forwards, regaining the energy she'd laid dormant.

She follows in Bo's footsteps, down the stairs, finding a plate of food beside one he's already devouring. It feels like a trick, she hadn't been allowed down those stairs in a week, and here he was, acting as though nothing had happened?

"Ya gon' eat or just stare?" Bo asks, without looking up from his plate. Lyra breaks away from her shock, taking a seat, feeling her Stomach rumble angrily at the plate of food before her.

He'd fed her during captivity, certainly, but just enough to keep her alive, not enough to make her well. She was ravenous. She'd was reluctant to compliment the food till she discovered it was Lester's sympathetic heart that had brought it to them.

At least one of them cared even the slightest. Bo can say he does all he pleases, actions speak louder than words and being tied to the bed for seven days wasn't the most loving gesture. Through the week she found herself hoping Lester would make a visit— to take her away from Bo's incessant presence. But alas it was only Bo.

"Go change or sum' and i'll take you to the house of wax." Bo speaks after a moment of the two sat in silence. His blue eyes bore into her intently, as if he's waiting for her to snap at him or confess her love, she can't tell which.

As they part ways, Lyra finds her white dress folded and clean on her bed and Bo watches from his room as she showers and prepares for the day, another set of eyes watching her from the small hole in her ceiling reaching to the attic.

Of course, Lyra obliviously leaves her room after making sure she looks perfect— by her own standards. The perfection of the vision she has for her new self, blonde, quiet, elegant. The opposite of her previous appearance and personality.