42: Shower
I think Luke let me stay in his lap for two more hours. We had talked for a while. Then we had both quieted down and he started rocking me back and forth, humming some unknown tune into my hair.
I guess I had fallen asleep because I woke up to Luke setting me down on the burgundy chair.
"I need a shower." Luke said gently, pulling away from my arms that had, at some point, gone around his neck. I nodded sleepily. I watched him as he grabbed a towel and a change of clothes.
He peeled his shirt off and threw it into the clothes hamper before disappearing behind the bathroom door. I didn't exactly know what I was doing but I was still sitting in the chair when Luke came back out about fifteen minutes later with a new outfit on and damp hair.
We stared at each other for a moment before he spoke. "You know, I'd be willing to try that Starbucks again." He suggested. I nodded blankly.
"Alright." I almost said 'let me change' from habit but realized that I didn't have any other outfits and I certainly wasn't going out in nothing but one of Luke's shirts.
He seemed to read my mind though.
"I went out and bought you some clothes the other day while you were asleep." He told me. "You have your own drawer." He pulled open a drawer from his dresser with a proud smile. I couldn't help but smile at how dorky he was with the grin plastered on his face. I ginned and nodded in thanks, grabbed a black shirt and light blue jeans, undergarments, and went into the bathroom to change. "I got you a couple of new shoes too." He opened his closet to reveal women's shoes next to his own once I walked out of the bathroom. He handed me a pair of black converse.
"Thanks." I smiled at him. But when I sat down to put the shoes on, I had to quickly wipe a stray tear away to hide it from Luke.
He was doing this like he wanted me to stay here long term and I wasn't even fighting it. I didn't want to fight it. I guess we were both wondering how I would react to having an opportunity to tattle on him at Starbucks today. I think Luke had offered to go just to get my decision done and over with.
If I were him, I would be tired of not knowing whether I was going to jail or not.
YOU ARE READING
Stockholm Syndrome
General FictionI didn't want to. I wouldn't. I won't. But suddenly I was doing it. I didn't even register my feet hitting the fourteen steps it took to get up the stairs. My brain ignored the ninth step and how creaky and loud it was. And then I was there. Finding...
