Little Lamb

14 ❦ lost little lamb

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The hours dragged on as I sat on the edge of the bed. My fingers grazed my lips as an unbidden smile crept across my face, replaying the confrontation with him over and over.

Every detail of it clung to me, the intoxicating taste of his lips, the rugged scent of him, the way his hands had explored. I never saw it coming, never expected someone so ruthless to be so utterly beautiful.

Restless energy surged through me, driving me to my feet. I paced the room.

"Lola, I'm so sorry."

Allister's words echoed in my mind, his confused green eyes flashing behind my closed lids. Guilt twisted in my chest as I remembered how I'd lashed out at him, my frustration and fear finding the wrong target. He didn't deserve it, it wasn't his fault. I should've apologized. Next time I saw him, I would.

I couldn't stay in here any longer. I needed air, movement, anything to quiet my thoughts.

I got out of my room. The factory's empty halls stretched before me as I wandered, my footsteps echoing faintly. I peered into abandoned rooms cluttered with rusted tools and broken equipment. This place, once alive with purpose, was now a hollow shell, a monument to decay.

Eventually, I stumbled into a larger room that felt different. The air was heavy with the tang of chemicals, and the walls were streaked with stains I didn't want to think too hard about. In the center of the room, a shimmering pool of dark liquid caught the dim light, bubbling as if it were alive.

I stepped closer, unable to resist the strange pull it exerted. The liquid shimmered like liquid moonlight, hypnotic and surreal. For a fleeting moment, I imagined my fingers hovered above the surface, my breath hitching as I debated touching it.

"You don't want to do that," a voice broke through the stillness.

I jerked back, my heart hammering as I spun around. A masked man stood in the shadows, his figure imposing. A gun hung over his shoulder.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice betraying a tremor.

He tilted his head slightly. "Just someone making sure you don't do something stupid."

I glanced back at the liquid, then at him. "What is it?"

"Dangerous," he said simply. "One touch, and you'll wish you hadn't."

I took a step back, unease prickling my skin. "Then why are you still here?"

He shrugged, his gaze sweeping the room. "Same reason you're wandering around. Killing time." His lips curled into a smirk. "What, did they let you out for a stroll?"

I matched his smirk with one of my own.
"No. You people don't bother locking the doors."

He chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "Maybe we don't need to."

The implication in his words sent a chill down my spine. "So, what's your job, then? Tossing me back in like I'm some discarded doll?"

"If that's what needs to happen, sure."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" I shot back.

"It's whatever you want it to be."

His voice turned softer, almost mocking. "So, Lola Lazaar... How are you holding up? Especially after that scene with Allister? Poor guy was just doing his job."

The mention of Allister struck a nerve, guilt tightening in my chest. I looked away, my voice small. "I know. I shouldn't have lashed out."

For a moment, his smirk dropped. "You're right," he said bluntly. Then, surprising me, he added, "But it's not your fault. What happened to you... no one should go through that."