Stockholm Syndrome

12 & 13

12: Couch
​I was in hysterics when the man had me sit on the living room couch. Luke was waiting. They had planned this. When he saw the state I was in, he was back to staring at me. The other man left. To my horror, Luke sat in the corner of the couch I was on. I could've dealt with it but when he pulled me onto his lap I squealed loudly. He wasn't fazed. He just stroked my hair and held me as the world became blurry, his lips pressed to my head. Beside myself, I curled into his chest. I had no control over my body right now. I was shaking and crying and there was no sign of stopping.
​
​​After a while – I don't know how long – Luke shifted.
​"You need a shower." I knew he was right but it took a while to realize he wasn't just covering up him telling me I stink.
​​"I'm fine." I murmured. I would push myself out of his lap but I was so tired right now that breathing was a struggle.
​"You need a shower."
​

13: No Strength Left
​"There's no way I'm doing that." Have you ever had to take a shower at a friend's house or a public restroom? Take how uncomfortable that situation is and multiply it by ten.
​​​"I'll help you." Was that supposed to encourage the shower idea?
​​"No way."
​​​"Just keep you're undergarments on." He told me. I shook my head weakly.
​​"I don't want to do this."
​​​"Neither do I." He grunted. I squinted at him.
​​"Then why are you doing it?" I whined.
​​​"Because it's the only way to get you in the shower. And you need to take care of yourself, mentally and physically."
​​"Being kidnapped is sure gonna help that." I muttered into his chest sarcastically. He didn't appreciate the comment but he ignored it. He lifted me up and carried me up the stairs, setting me on the closed toilet seat. I curled up, trying to prevent from having to move. He gave me a chance to move but I didn't. He sighed. Kneeling down, he gently grasped the hem of my shirt and tugged it over my head. He hesitated with my jeans, trying to give me a chance to do it myself. Again, I rebelled. He took a deep breath and unbuttoned them and pulled them off. He had stolen my shoes a few days before.
​"I'm putting these in the laundry. Stay." He talked to me as he would a dog. Like I had enough strength to get out the door. He knew how weak I was. That's the only reason he was leaving me on my own. When he came back, his shirt was gone and he was in his boxers. I glared at his sculpted chest before looking away. He bent over and turned the water on, adjusting it to the right temperature. Luke helped me stand up and I'm not sure how I made it into the shower. It was big. It could be a walk in if he remodeled a little. He started climbing in after me. I pushed on his arm. Though I didn't have enough strength to stop his movements with force, he knew I needed something and he paused, looking at me.
​​"I can do it by myself." I whispered. "Just give me some time alone." At first I thought I had spoken too softly and the running water had drowned me out because he just stared at me. But just as I was going to say it again, he nodded and backed off. He shut the bathroom door and I shut the bathtub door. Instead of keeping my promise of washing up, I sat on the floor with my back to the exit and didn't do anything while the water poured down on me.