Butterfly {h.s} #Wattys2016

0.6

I wake up to hear the shower running. The pipes must have run right above my room because it was quite loud. I tried to focus on the water running, but I couldn't. All I could think about was that I've been stuck with you for a whole week.

It's weird, living with you. You would change it up every single day. Make new breakfast, which I wouldn't eat, have new plans, that I wouldn't participate in, and talk about new topics, that I never joined in on. But, everyday was different.

I tried remembering my mornings at home. It was still fresh in my memory. I would get up, walk to the kitchen to greet my mother, and take a book and read at the kitchen table. Every single morning. Never anything else but that. My family liked routines.

Finally, the water stopped. I heard the curtain pull back and the bathroom door open. Your footsteps echoed down the hallway. My breath hitched as you came up to my door. I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. You opened the door and I felt your cold stare on me. It took all of me to control my breathing and keep myself still. I heard you say something, but I couldn't make out what you said. As I heard you turn around, I took a quick peek. Your brown ringlets were dripping wet onto your shoulders, you had a well defined chest and broad shoulders, ink covered your stomach, chest, and all down your left arm.

I couldn't deny it, you were very attractive.

You walked out of my room and I couldn't get you out of my head. I kept thinking of you, in that towel, dripping wet. I felt disgusting, thinking of you like that. If only I met you and you didn't kidnap me...maybe this could have been something.

"Breakfast if you want it!"

I heard you yell from downstairs. The smell of bacon filled my nose and I felt my mouth water. I've not ate for the whole week of me being trapped here.

"I know you're awake! You really should eat!"

I sighed and knew I should too. I needed to be strong if I ever wanted to escape here. I can't be a weak, scrawny stick, and that's the direction I would be heading if I kept this up. I got up and threw on some comfy, pajama material shorts, a loose fitting t-shirt and carelessly put my long hair into a ponytail. I made my way down the stairs to see you cooking. You're hair still dripping wet.

"You actually came down...I'm surprised. What's the occasion?" You asked with curious eyes.

"Hungry." I simply answered, taking a seat at the table.

You nodded as you flipped an egg. I studied you as you made breakfast. You had on gray sweatpants and no shirt. My eyes lingered on the tattoos that I could see. You had a lot and I wondered if they met anything. My eyes then went to your hair. It was perfectly curled as it flowed down your back.

"Making eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast. I kinda over cooked the toast a bit, but I like it that way. Hope that's okay with you." You said turning the stove off.

You made my favourite meal. My mother would make it for me once a week. Always.

"Did you stalk me?"

You turned to me with raised eyebrows. My heart was beating fast as I looked up at you.

"Why do you ask?" You said leaning slightly onto the counter, setting down the food.

"Answer me." I said sternly.

You sighed and slightly nodded your head. I laid my head down on the table and silently started to cry.

"Look Willow-"

"W-why me? W-why did you do any of this to me?" I ask weakly.

I told myself I was gonna be strong, but just look at me.