Tainted

Exanimate

Exanimate| once but no longer alive
—
Ariadne

As anticipated, Romeo didn't return. While I wasn't surprised, I had hoped I'd be proven wrong and he'd come back. I don't even know why I wanted him to come back, but I guess that's what Stockholm syndrome does.

I headed into the closet to pick out a pair of clothes for today, though I wasn't sure what I was getting ready for. For all I knew, I could be staying inside this room all day, if not a few days. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but dressing up felt like a small act of normalcy.

I selected a grey leopard print skirt that fell just above my knees, the fabric soft and familiar against my skin. With it, I choose a white embroidered tank top, the intricate patterns adding a touch of elegance. As I dressed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, trying to muster some semblance of confidence.

Just as I was about to get started on my hair, the door of the bedroom unlocked with a soft click. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned to see Romeo entering the room. His sudden appearance filled the space with a tense silence, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for whatever was to come next.

His pants were unbuttoned, and he still had no shirt on. The sight of his disheveled state made me wonder what he had been up to all night. His hair was messy, and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, hinting at some form of exertion. My mind raced with questions and unwelcome images of where he might have been and with whom. As I stood there, staring at him, I couldn't shake the mix of curiosity and confusion that gnawed at me.

"I'm gonna shower and we're leaving," he says abruptly, offering no further explanation. His tone is curt, allowing no room for questions. I nod hesitantly as he walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The sound of the water starting up fills the silence, reminding me of his presence. I don't question his command and instead focus on my hair. The routine feels grounding. I decide to keep it down, letting my long locks fall freely. They reach just above my butt, a familiar weight against my back.

As I tend to my hair, my thoughts wander, trying to piece together Romeo's abrupt behavior and the uncertainty of what the day might bring.

Once I finish with my hair, the sound of the shower continues in the background, a constant reminder of Romeo's presence and the unknown plans ahead. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

I walk back to the closet and slip on a pair of comfortable sandals, hoping they'll be appropriate for whatever Romeo has planned. The minutes stretch on, and I find myself pacing the room, glancing at the bathroom door every now and then. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more anxious than the last.

Finally, the shower turns off, and a few moments later, Romeo emerges, a towel wrapped around his waist. He moves with a determined purpose, not meeting my eyes as he heads into the closet. His silence is heavy, and I feel an almost physical weight pressing down on me.

"Where are we going?" I ask tentatively, unable to contain my curiosity any longer.

He pauses, glancing at me briefly before turning back to his task. "Just be ready to leave in five minutes," he says, his voice still holding that same curt edge.

I nod again, swallowing my questions. I take a seat on the edge of the bed, my foot tapping nervously against the floor. Five minutes feels like an eternity as I wait, the anticipation building with each passing second.

When Romeo is finally dressed, he grabs a small bag from the corner of the room and heads towards the door. "Let's go," he says, his tone softening just slightly as he gestures for me to follow.

I stand and smooth down my skirt, taking one last look around the room before stepping out into the unknown. The hallway is dimly lit, and I follow closely behind Romeo as we make our way through the maze-like corridors. The air is thick with tension, and my heart pounds in my chest.