Severed [GB + SB]

Four: Feast or Famine

AN: Posting an additional chapter immediately because so many of you are still REALLY ANGRY at the guys, and I wanted a little bit more balance. That's not to say there isn't more yelling and screaming to come, but for now... 

(Also because @iamsmiley09 came back! Thought I'd lost you!)

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THURSDAY Evening

He set me down to unlock a door, then lifted me up again to carry me over the threshold. It might have been romantic if I wasn't hysterical.

There were stairs, and more stairs, and then he sat down with me in his lap and it was so reminiscent of when he held me in the hospital and changed my world that I lost my mind again, sobbing great, broken cries like an injured animal in a trap. I didn't know anymore if he was trying to tell me it was over, that things got too complicated — that I got too complicated— or if it was just a series of awful coincidences. I didn't care. It was days of loneliness and confusion and doubt, all bundled up with bouts of fear, and I finally had an outlet.

I'm pretty sure the lack of food and infection-induced fever didn't help.

Once I'd calmed down to the hiccuping/snotting stage, Owen loosened his grip a little and kissed the crown of my head. "Can I feed you first, and then we can talk? I'm so worried about you not eating, it's going to be distracting and we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah," I said wearily. "Sorry for your shirt. And coat. Ouch... and your tie..."

"Girlfriend snot is why God made drycleaning," he murmured, kissing my head again. "But perhaps you should use a handkerchief next time."

"Depends on how badly you piss me off," I sighed, luxuriating in the description of girlfriend snot. Okay, maybe that is a weird and disgusting thing to be happy about, but whatever. It was reassurance that I really needed.

"Noted," he said softly, and neither of us moved. "I've— I've missed you so much," he breathed out, hesitantly, his grip managing to tighten despite thinking he couldn't possibly hold me closer. "I thought you... after barely leaving your side from the moment we met, I thought you needed a break from me. I texted you, letting you know that I was giving you space to be with the others, undisturbed, and that you should let me know when you wanted to see me again. After I failed you so completely with your parents, I assumed you were very, very angry with me, and I should stay away until you told me otherwise. I never imagined that you didn't have your phone or have any way to contact us. I never imagined... I'm so sorry, Sang. I thought giving you space was what you needed even though everything in me wanted to cling to you."

"Feed me, Owen," I said, holding back tears. And frustration. And quite a bit of anger. "Then we can talk. Because you're such an idiot that I'm afraid I might hit you if I don't have food in me before this conversation. Really, I can't even... I can't even process this right now. Giving me SPACE? I just can't..."

I'm pretty sure that wasn't a smile pressed against my head, he'd know better than that, and his voice was appropriately solemn when he finally said "I'm going get cleaned up a bit, change out of my jacket... shirt... and tie, and I will be in the kitchen making your meal. Stay right here. Unless you need the bathroom, which is through there," he gestured at a door across the room.

I nodded, and he stood up with barely any extra effort to lift me up with him, which was... impressive. Okay, it was hot. Really, really sexy. He's very strong underneath his fancy bespoke suits. Then he deposited me on a bed and I realized I hadn't even seen one inch of the room we were in. I was lying on top of a massive carved-wood four-poster bed made up in snowy white linens with several throw pillows in graduated shades, starting with a deep raspberry and ending with a pale pink. The tester overhead was a the same raspberry red, and ombre drapes hung down in the corners transitioning from a matching shade to white. Nightstands on either side had sconces mounted above with stained glass shades.