⚠️|Truly, Deeply, Madly

(3) I'LL SLEEP IN THE BATHTUB. (3)

LONG CHAPTER!!

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He wanted to go home.

But all the doors were locked, besides a few. The restrooms, a couple closets, Green's office and the bedroom. Any other doors were locked firmed, and Green had the keys. Green had let him run around for a possible exit.

It was humiliating. It reminded him of the old King. Like a mouse, desperately scurrying around for some sort of consolation. He didn't receive that consolation.

Eventually, Purple gave up, walked back into the main room. He looked over at the kitchen, Green was there making some food. Purple eyed the kitchen. He couldn't see the knife holder. Green was smart. He had kept the knives locked. Of course he had. Another way that Purple was stuck. Shit. Now what?

Purple sat down on the sofa, staring at the ground. He was silent, but his mind was running in a frenzy. To the point he didn't even notice Green next to him, until the other had tapped his shoulder. Purple jumped and looked over. Food. Purple was very hungry. He must've been unconscious a while.

"Here, you're hungry, I bet." He put the plate down. Steak. Purple was just about to start eating when he hesitated. If Green had the capability to bring him here, trap him here, Purple wouldn't put it against him to drug his food.

Purple pulled his hands away. "I'm not hungry." He said firmly. Green tilted his head. "Yes you are." He said. Purple refused again, and at that coincidentally terrible moment, his stomach growled. "I'll make my own food, thank you." Purple decided. Green, for just a second, barely seeable, had genuine anger flash across his face.

So he had drugged it, and it was obvious, by the way he concealed his anger, took the plate and dumped it in the trash. What a waste. Green had a dog. Dogs could eat steak. Green knew that. Purple made a mental note to not eat the food Green prepared.

Green didn't bother to make any for himself, so he walked back into the kitchen. "If you want to make your own food, then fine. Come on." Green pulled out a pan. "Make yourself some eggs." He decided.

Purple sighed. Of course Green wouldn't let him do anything that involved knives or anything dangerous. So Purple did make eggs. But before he did, he washed the plate and pan that Green had laid out for him. Another thing that pissed Green off. Purple knew that it was a good idea. He scrambled four eggs, which Green laughed at. "I thought you weren't hungry."

Purple hadn't bothered to respond at first, then said, "I'm not particularly interested in what you have to cook. I don't think I really will be." Purple held his nose up high, it was remarkable how he was able to keep himself together. He felt little fear. Why? Well, he had served for the former King, even though it was many years ago now, he still remembered it well.

Green only shrugged. "Well, suit yourself. And what if I don't let you cook in here? Then what will you eat?"

Purple didn't respond to that. It was worrisome that Green would even think of doing that.

•

Purple had finished eating a while ago, and excused himself to the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, then hastily locked it. He looked around, opened the closet door. Just clothes, some that Purple liked. Purple wouldn't be wearing most of those.

He wanted to find his phone, call the police. That would be logical. It would also be logical to bother to jump out the window, but as said, they were all sealed. Could he break it. He felt at the glass. Firm. It wouldn't be breaking. He rummaged through the drawers. Nothing. Just some of Green's stuff. He looked under the bed. A couple lost items, forgotten to time. A box. Purple pulled it out and opened it. His belongings! They were in there. Purple tried to open his phone— to his luck, it was dead. He looked around.

In one of the drawers was a charging cube. He pulled it out, and under the bed was a forgotten charger. It worked for Purple's phone. He plugged it up, hid it under the bed. He made sure everything was in its proper place, made sure his phone and the charger were hidden. Lucky that there was an outlet under the bed. Purple made sure to move some old stuff to cover it.

Then— the door opened. Hadn't Purple locked it? Green must've had a key. Purple jumped up and sat on the bed, he had accidentally left one of the books he found of Green's from the drawer on the bed. Purple didn't even look at it. If he looked, so would Green. But Green looked anyway. He pointed it at. "You went through my drawers."

Less of a question, more of a statement. Purple could tell Green didn't need confirmation from him, he knew it was true. So Purple didn't bother responding.

Green stared at him, then started to laugh. "Don't... look through my stuff." He said. Purple only turned his head, glaring at the wall, as if he couldn't bother himself to look at Green. "I do what I want. I'm not a kid." Purple responded gruffly. Green stared at him. "You act like one."

"You're one to talk." Purple countered. Green sat on the bed beside him.

"Where do I sleep? I'm not sleeping in this bed with you. Not in a million years." Purple asked, and he didn't bother to acknowledge if Green was insulted or not.

"You can always sleep in the basement. It's dark, it has cobwebs, and roaches running around." Green suggested, grinning at his own joke. Everyone knew Purple hated roaches. Hated. So Purple just glared at him again, muttered something under his breath and turned away.

"What was that?" Green asked.

"Oh, nothing, just saying you're an obnoxious bastard." Purple answered, his arms crossed. He could have quite the attitude when given the opportunity. Green only kept smiling. "Am I?" He pondered, amused. "Yeah, I'd say." Purple responded once more, turning away again. "I'll sleep on the couch, actually. That sounds like a better idea."

Purple got up, and Green only said, "No."

So Purple turned back, eyed him. "No?" He repeated. "I think yes is better fit for that." He turned again, and Green grabbed his wrist, to which Purple pulled away. Green only smiled. "I can't have you down there on your own. Can't let you get out."

Purple snorted. "What am I going to do, fly through the wall?"

Green only laughed, stuck his hands in his pockets. "That'd be amusing. But no. You have to stay up here or in the basement. Your choice."

Purple pondered this. He was almost tempted to take the roach-infested basement. But he knew better. "I'll sleep in the bathtub." Now Purple was the one grinning. He must've found this amusing. Maybe they both did.

Green laughed again. "Oh, yeah? You- wait, really?" His smile faded when Purple walked into the restroom. "Really." He slammed the door shut and locked it.