My Dark Scientist

53 | Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry

ELLORA

I jerk up from my sleep at the sound of the wall clock down the living room marking twelve at midnight.

Rubbing my eyes, I look up outside the window. It's pitch dark.

It's been four hours.

Four hours since I last saw him.

Four hours of me sitting down against the floor of professor Langdon- or should I now say Magnus's- bedroom, hugging my knees to myself.

I have been sitting here crying and over contemplating my twentieth birthday. Then, I had fallen asleep probably around ten thirty.

The gong continues for another few seconds before finally stopping.

My muscles ache from sitting down at weird positions for hours.

My eyes are long dry from tears.

I have not eaten a single thing since lunch at around one in the afternoon.

Well, happy birthday to me!

I get up slowly stretching my sore muscles. I go to the bathroom to wash my face with some water, then tie my hair which is falling all over my face in a loose bun with the spare rubber band from my wrist.

I am so hungry, my stomach could eat itself right now. So I don't care if he insults me or yells at me again without rhyme or reason, but I am not going hungry on my freaking birthday for professor Langdon- or Magnus, whoever the heck he is.

I give a look at papers of the last set of problems on the bed that I was meant to complete by now.

And then I turn around and walk out the door.

Let the problems burn to hell.

I had it all planned out. Out of the goodness of my heart, I had actually wanted to pretend for one night that things are not what they actually are and have a proper birthday dinner and cake. I didn't want nor expect him to know my birthday. All I had wanted was to enjoy some food and cake in peace, together. And then I would have come back to his problems and we could've discussed them till late at night like usual. Life would have continued like it was.

Let all that go to hell now.

I should've just cooked for myself because that would have been done way before he came home. It's my freaking fault I thought I should cook for my kidnapper too just because I didn't want my birthday to go wrong. Is it too much for a girl to hope?

Sulking I walk my way to the kitchen. I don't take the usual route from the adjoined living and dining room. Instead I take the shortcut through the veranda, and a spare bedroom to the kitchen.

I pour myself a glass of cold water from the filter. Then lean back against the counter as I take a sip of it. I sigh back in contentment as my parched throat gets some relief.

Something strikes me as odd.

The kitchen is clean all over.

I get up from leaning against the counter, the glass of water forgotten in my hand as I look around the clean kitchen.

Professor Langdon isn't one to enter the kitchen. From what I have understood in the past month, he would rather starve himself to hunger than cook. Not because he has any male ego or anything but simply because he does not have the time. He sometimes even forgets to eat the meal prep done by Willy because he is so lost in his work in that cluttered laboratory of his. Or the gym.

So it doesn't seem like he would be the one to clean the kitchen.

My eyes falls on the note stuck on the fridge that was not there when I was last here.