Fear

18

Consciousness came back like drowning in reverse - slow and choking, feeling the world pressing in through thick fog.

My eyelids were heavy. My body was heavier.

Something cold bit my arms.

I tried to move. My limbs didn't respond at first - just a dull ache in my shoulders and hips. Then the burn came, sharp and familiar, where the restraints pinched.

'Restraints.'

Panic clawed up my throat before my mind could catch up, but my body wouldn't let me thrash. Everything was slow. Sluggish.

I blinked hard.

The room tilted sideways, then levelled. Dim light above me. A large room, shadows ahead, cold and dark.

I knew this room.

The Act room.

My breath hitched. I pulled against the straps again - once, twice - and flinched at the sound of leather creaking. My legs were bound. My arms.

But I wasn't gagged.

Then I heard it.

A sip. A slow exhale. The shifting of clothes.

Tyler.

I turned my head, dizzy from the motion, and saw him standing to my left, holding a cup of coffee, staring at his phone like this was just another afternoon.

He didn't look up. Sipped the coffee. Scrolled his thumb over the screen.

"You awake yet?"

I didn't respond. Not yet.

"Don't worry... it's not an Act," he said, voice calm. "You can stop panicking."

I didn't believe him. Not fully. My body didn't believe him either. I opened my mouth, but it took a second for words to form.

"Why...?"

"You were a handful," he said. "They had to sedate you. This was the safest place to put you."

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat.

"You mean the most convenient."

He smiled. "Semantics, princess."

"Don't."

He finally looked at me.

He took another sip, pushed off the wall, and came toward me, slowly, like there was no urgency at all. He set the coffee cup down on the edge of the table.

He stood over me now. I hated how tall he felt when I was strapped down. He looked me over like I was a puzzle he hadn't decided whether to finish or smash to pieces.

"You look better now," he said. "Less frothing at the mouth."

"Go to hell," I scoffed.

He chuckled at that. "Already there, thanks. And so are you."

He moved to sit against the table, perched on the edge, and crossed his arms. For a second, he didn't say anything. Just watched me, biting his lip.

"You're not going to scream this time?" he asked, finally.

"No."

"Why not? I half expected you to."

"Because I'm not afraid of you."

He laughed under his breath. "That's cute."

I didn't answer. Clenched my jaw.