Captive{ated}

Sixteen: Comfort

I can't say that our first couple weeks of marriage were marital bliss, but they were peaceful. There was no pressure on me to do anything, making it so easy to breathe.

I could spend my days doing whatever I felt like. If I wanted to, I even could have gone outside by myself, but I never ventured out without you. I still wasn't brave nor comfortable enough to do that. Despite that, knowing that the doors weren't locked was a nice feeling. The claustrophobia and dread I felt weren't nearly as bad.

You were busy a lot, but I was fine with that, too. That's not to say I didn't get bored, but I felt comfortable enough to exist without worry finally. Part of me wished I wasn't so stubborn and spent so much time saying no to you. I had tormented myself so much in that dark room when I could've been at peace. Being married to you wasn't what I thought it would be, probably because just as you said, you weren't going to force me to do anything.

I would spend my days reading, writing, and even cleaning just to give myself something to do. Eventually, I tried my hand at cooking, which we both know I'm awful at. Even so, you would still force a smile and choke it down, thanking me for the effort. Luckily for the both of us, I did get better. With all the time and practice I had, it would've been a sin if I didn't.

You appeared very content with how things were going between us. Perhaps it was exactly what you envisioned, but we were better than what we were. We found ourselves talking again, laughing again. It wasn't as carefree, but it was natural. No longer did I have to force myself to be in your presence.

I found myself wanting to be.

There were evenings when we would go sit outside the house under the remaining canopy of trees and just enjoy each other's company. To be honest, I loved it out there. With the leaves of the trees changing color and floating down all around us, I could almost forget about the fences that surrounded us on all sides. You would tell me stories about your mischievous childhood, and I would tell you stories of my much more tame one. We learned more about each other, and I grew closer to you, though I would still keep you at an arm's length away. Maybe I was becoming too comfortable around you, but what was I to do? When it was just the two of us in the place you loved most, you were so you.

Even when we weren't alone, I still realized I admired you. You had such a kind heart that people looked up to, a natural leader. On a couple occasions, you would bring me with you on whatever activities you had planned that day. I think it was so I could see more of the Village, or maybe you wanted me to be around other people. Whatever the reason, you would still take me out to the farms and orchards, showing me everything there was to know about the harvest. 

"I'm not normally involved in the dirty work like this since I have different obligations," you had told me on our way to the fields one day, "but I do like to pop in and help out when I get the chance. We all benefit from the hard work of our farmers. I only think it fair that we offer a hand, too."

Seeing the harvest first hand was shocking because it looked like so much work. People were out harvesting by hand, sweat dripping down their backs and dirt coating their clothes. They didn't have machines like combines, so that meant long, challenging days for them. When we would show up, however, they would perk up just at your presence. The Villagers would beam and gravitate toward you as you helped them out, and feeling almost guilty, I would mimic your movements. You would ask them about their day, family, and everything else there was to know on such a personal level that it astonished me that you could remember so much about everyone. In the Outside world, I had never seen someone be so genuine with everyone. 

Watching the interaction, I'd smile. I'd smile for no reason other than seeing you like this, so happy and at home. It made me happy, my heart warming with pride. I couldn't explain why seeing you like this made me feel this way, which I knew meant I was in trouble, in danger. My walls I put up against you were crumbling so much that I always had to put them back together. You were the type of man I always wanted to call mine, but not here.

Not like this.

I supposed that was why I was doomed the moment I meant you. Your compassion, your smile, your thoughtfulness and devotion, and you showed those all to me the most. I couldn't help but fall, and now I was hanging on for dear life once again.

I had to look myself in the mirror daily, promising that I would not let myself fall for you because this wasn't right. It sounds strange, but seeing myself say those words gave me encouragement to be strong. I may have agreed to marry you, but I was not yet done being stubborn. It was almost as if I had something to prove, fighting in any way I could. I would not become just another Villager.

That didn't mean, though, that I didn't find some comfort in what my life had become. It wasn't all good, but it wasn't all bad either. I was held captive yes, but I wasn't treated horribly. This place could be so much worse.

I spoke too soon, however, because I saw the true horror of the Village the day of the new moon.

A/N: Just a short and sweet transition chapter before we get into some darker stuff. I hope you're all ready >:)