Porcelain

⌖ Chapter 3 ⌖

+Tristan's POV+

I finished explaining my story, gazing at Day to gauge her reaction. She looked over my face before meeting my eyes. She was beautiful, even with the dark bruises swirling over her pale skin. She had auburn hair that fell along her shoulders, and light blue eyes. Soft cheekbones and a light dusting of freckles.

The bruises along her face dotted along her cheeks and temples. The deep marks on her neck were cringeworthy, the hand shaped bruises marked her skin. She was strong, not letting The Man intimidate her. Although her mouth might become dangerous, once the hassle outweighs the satisfaction in the Kidnapper.

The door opened and my anger swarmed back. The Man walked in, holding water bottles and plastic packages. "Dinner is ready, My Dolls!" He exclaimed, placing the contents in his arms in the middle of the room. He pulled something shiny from his pocket, that glinted in the bright lights. He walked towards Day and she glared at him. "Don't." Was all she said, her words full of menace and hate.

"Leave her alone." I said, she didn't need anymore bruises. The Man laughed and jabbed her in the arm with the needle. He quickly untied her wrists and her arms fell free from their bindings. Day cried out, her arms hanging limply by her sides. The stiff, sore muscles must be excruciating to move. The Man untied her feet and she started to fall forward, Her unconscious body landing in his arms.

The Man placed her on the floor, and gazed at her longingly. Disgust shivered through me, appalled at his actions. I could see the dried blood trails from her wrists to her fingertips. "Your turn, Dolly Boy." He said, pulling another, larger syringe from his pocket. "I've upped the dosage, You'll have a nice nap with Doll." He smiled and strolled towards me. "Since I can't trust my Dolls yet, I must sedate you. When you wake up, you can eat." He explained, softly flicking the needle.

"Don't!" I yelled, jerking wildly in the chair. He laughed and jabbed the needle into my neck. The cold iciness flowed through my veins. I pulled against the heaviness on my eyelids, the fog in my brain. I stayed awake long enough to feel myself lowered to the floor.

-Day's POV-

Gentle shakes were rousing me from sleep, a headache pulsing through my head. "Day." A soft voice said, pulling me awake. I opened my eyes and was instantly confused by my surroundings. I blinked and tried to rub my eyes, but the pain in my shoulders ached horribly. Then a cold wash of reality spread over me as I realised where I was. "That shit gives me headaches." I moaned, opening my eyes and wincing at the bright lighting. Tristan was sitting next to me, holding a bottle of water.

"Do you need help sitting up? You need to drink." He said gently. I shook my head and ignored my shoulders and sat up, slowly leaning against the wall. Tristan handed me the water bottle and the small package of crackers. "Thanks." I mumbled, cracking the water's seal and sipping it slowly.

I leaned my head back against the cool grey walls and sighed. Tristan followed suit and popped a cracker in his mouth. "He's going to weaken us." I whispered, staring at the package of crackers in Tristan's hand. Tristan stared at me, blankly confused. "He's gonna give us the bare minimum to survive, but not enough to let us heal and stay strong." I stated. "He has to be able to control us, throw us around, do what he wants with us."

Tristan shook his head slowly, sipping at his water before he groaned loudly. "You're too smart for your own good." He crunched another cracker. I scoffed and sipped more water. I placed the dry crackers in my mouth, crunching on them and washing it down with water. We both continued to eat in silence, just appreciating the calm of the moment.

"What time do you think it is?" Tristan asked, staring at the ceiling. "What day do you think it is?" I countered, following his line of sight. "Do you think we'll get out of here?" I whispered, slowly running my fingers over the bruises on my neck. Tristan looked down to me, following my fingers as they traveled up and down the column of my throat. "I hope so." He replied.

His answer didn't give me the encouragement I hoped it would. But it was truthful. And that was the scariest part. I shivered and rubbed my face gently with my hands. Tristan placed his hand comfortingly on my knee, squeezing slightly before placing his hand back into his lap.