Stockholm Syndrome? ✔

S.S 37

Later on I lay in his arms. My head was on his chest. I was just listening to his heartbeat and he was playing with my hair. My thoughts drifted to the moment he'd walked in from his fishing expedition. It seemed like a long time ago.

"Felix?" I said.

"Hm", he grunted.

"Earlier when you walked in, after you smelled the scents you asked if I was trying to seduce you. Those are the same candles you lit when I was here. Were you trying to seduce me back then?" I asked.

"Um..." he said and didn't continue.

"Felix!" I said.

He chuckled. "I wasn't trying to seduce you. I bought them for myself. The scent reminded me of you. Vanilla: your scent, Pear: how you smelled like when you slept in my bed; and sandalwood was just a random pick".

I raised my head to look up into his face. "How did I miss this? I ran away from you that night because the scents reminded me of that night we shared and I was afraid I was going to act wanton again and you'd think I was clingy".

He sighed. "This is why I think love is terrible. There's no manual".

I didn't say anything; just put my head on his chest.

"I enjoyed the chase Pancakes. I was stabbed trying to save you, I mean, how more beautiful can our story be?" he said.

"I guess danger can be beautiful sometimes", I said.

We went on to have sex again. The climax was even more incredible. It wasn't just sex, it was the longing and feelings packed into one act that culminated in gratification for both of us. I used more of my mouth and he invented positions. I'd had to jail my thoughts about Ricky at one time when my leg ended in a way that made me wonder if it wouldn't snap at some point. But Felix knew what he was doing and I forgot all about my leg when the position ensured more pleasure from Felix's movements.

We lay in bed for a while before deciding we were both hungry. Felix started on his task of making dinner and I settled in the living area, lighting the fire and covering myself with the polar fleece.

I could smell the aroma of lemon and fish coming from the kitchen. It was mouthwatering. I didn't trust Felix with the stove, but if his fish tasted as good as it smelled there would be no complaints from me.

"Pancakes, have you ever tasted Chardonnay?" he asked from the kitchen.

"No", I replied.

"It goes very well with rainbow trout. Would you like to taste it?"

"Does it taste like Scotch?" I asked.

He chuckled. "No".

"In that case then yes", I said.

"Great. I'm almost done. You can get it so long", he said.

I glared at him- at least I tried. He was far and had his back to me. I didn't want to leave the warmth of the polar fleece blanket and my current position – lying peacefully on the couch. I was warm and too comfortable.

"I can't see it", I lied.

"You are not looking", he said. He still had his back to me. How was I supposed to lie to him with that sixth sense of his?

"I don't even what it looks like", I said.

"Stand up and I'll tell you", he said as he appeared to set the table in the kitchen.

I groaned and stood up, walking towards his liquor cabinet.

"It's not in there. It's in my study", he said.