Four Walls

Two

I'm alone in bed when I wake up.

Everything hurts. My head. My throat. My back. The blinding lights from above.

I wonder how I got back to this bed and if the guy brought me here. I quickly search around the room, finding it empty. The door to the bathroom is closed. He must be in there. I reach my hand out to the spot next to me. It's warm, so it can't be that long since he got up. I turn on my side towards the wall, shielding my eyes with the crook of my arm.

I shiver as I recall the incident with the gas filling the room. I can't even begin to understand why that happened, but the guy seemed to know. I also think he was trying to help me, as improbable as that seemed.

I'm so confused.

Who is he?

Why is he here?

Why am I here?

I hear the toilet flush, followed by water running from the sink. I flinch when the door opens, still unsure whether I can trust him or not. I freeze and don't move from my position, not knowing how to act or what to do besides stare at the white wall in front of me.

I listen as he walks towards the bed. I squeeze my eyes shut when his footsteps stop. When he doesn't make another sound I know it's because he's watching me. His stare burns against my back.

I'm about to open my eyes when the mattress sinks. My heart skips a beat, and I silently pray he doesn't touch me. I rationalize that if he wanted to hurt me, he would've done it already. He also said he wouldn't, but he might've only said that to get me to calm down.

Minutes drag by. I know because I've been counting the seconds to my heartbeat. He doesn't say anything for a long time. All I hear is a heavy sigh and the smallest murmur under his breath.

I pretend to be sleeping, but he must know I'm awake. I'm in a different position from when he got up from the bed. But I'm not ready to face him again. If it's anything like how it went before, then I'd rather delay the nightmare as much as possible.

"Hey."

The single word he utters is barely a whisper, yet the sound of it reverberates through my entire body. It takes hold of my chest, causing me to lose count of my heartbeat.

"I—I got you some water," he says.

My eyes flick open. The hesitation in his voice strikes me, but more than that, my mouth goes dry at the mention of water. My throat feels like sandpaper. Taken aback by his offer, I push up on my elbows and turn towards him. A paper cup fills my view and I don't hesitate to take it, quickly gulping it down.

"Thank you," I say. Despite the refreshment, my voice comes out hoarse. It's not a surprise after all the screaming that I did. I cringe in embarrassment just thinking about it.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he says, rushing the words. They're surprisingly soft. He stops to clear his throat. "I didn't mean to scare you. I know what I must look like. It's just—it's been a while. You caught me off guard."

I raise my head to look at him. His body stiffens as our eyes meet. He sucks in a breath, holding it as he waits for a response. It takes me a moment to understand his reaction. He's nervous. Really nervous. Like he's scared of me.

It's hard to believe this is the same person I was so scared of. He looks different now that he's wearing a plain white T-shirt and his imposing muscles aren't on full display. He's no longer the monster who wanted to hurt me. Quite the opposite. He's a vulnerable guy with his heart on his sleeve. His stance is cautious, and the concern I thought I'd seen before in his eyes is now prominent.