Stockholm Syndrome

- 7 -

I shiver at Alex's words. What could he possibly expect from me?

"I just need you to understand that you're with me now and I won't let you go." He continues on when he realizes that I won't respond.

I've never felt this sick before. The branding, that's his reason behind it.

"I'm not some object you can just have." I glare up at Alex's dark eyes, his eyes meeting my gaze. I draw my hand back and place it into my lap so he can't touch it anymore.

"Of course you aren't an object." He replies, looking slightly offended. Alex raises his hand and gently sweeps a damp strand of hair away from my face. "You're just the right person for me." He breathes out, leaning forward in my direction.

My eyes lower to the ground as he shifts closer, my glare completely out of the picture. I rub my clammy hand against the side of my leg.

I feel his breath on the top of my head before he lowers himself down and places a kiss on my head.

"Also, just don't try to fight it. You can't get out of this." Alex mumbles against my scalp.

My face feels extremely red, I'm not sure why, I'm not supposed to feel flustered in this situation. I raise up my hand and place it against his chest, gently pushing him away from me. He allows me to do so, pulling himself away from me.

"I understand... just give me time." I let the words fall out of my mouth. I look up from the floor and land my eyes onto his.

It's true, I do understand what he's saying. But, I don't want to fall for him. It's just that there's something about him that makes me want to be around him. I don't know what it is.

"I can give you time. I'm hoping within that time you will realize that you need me. That we need each other." Alex nods his head at me, speaking calmly. He puts my bad hand into one of his hands, the size between our two hands being drastically different.

I wish I could feel his warmth. I just need to feel something in my hand.

Need. I've been hearing that word too much lately...

Alex scoots his chair closer to mine, not too close though. I watch him begin to move my fingers around. He's doing the same thing he did earlier.

"I'm trying to uh..." He thought for a moment "exercise your fingers. Hopefully you will get feeling back eventually." Alex smiles up at me.

I feel my heart skip a beat at his handsomely crooked smile. God, this always happens.

He moves my fingers back and forth individually, asking the same question 'Do you feel this?' And I always shaking my head in response.

After a few minutes of "exercising my fingers" Alex leaves the room without saying anything then quickly comes back with a first aid kit.

Why does he have that?

"Your bandages need to be changed." He says, seeming to read my mind.

Oh right, the bandages.

As he's changing them he speaks up, "You have been a little too quiet, don't you want to ask some questions?"

He's right. I have only said a few words. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. Do I thank him for changing my bandages? Or do I just always get mad when he touches my hand, remembering that he's the reason why my hand is scarred. You know what they say though, holding grudges is never healthy.

I do have one specific question in mind though.

"Can I go back to work?" I mumble out, fidgeting with the fork set on the untouched plate. "I know it's a stupid question..."