Stockholm Syndrome l.h

3

Well, I found out that I was passed out for about three days. That damn shit could've killed me.

I'm still a bit shocked by the words Ashton used towards me. In all, it's confusing.

To think that just a few days ago I was with a few friends. Always talking about these guys and singing their music. It was always the best part of my day.

And to make matters worse, I'm still in this godforsaken chair. I rolled me eyes and sighed.

"It's not polite to roll your eyes, young lady." A voice startled from behind me.

The footsteps of the voice moved closer and stopped behind me. I could feel the vibe of this person almost touching me. His shadow lurked over me in an eerie way.

I couldn't see who it was which was not helping my nerves calm at all.

A cold hand brushed against my neck and pulled my hair over to one shoulder, exposing an area of skin.

I shuddered at the feeling of this mans hands on me.

My breathing froze and my heart skipped when a pair of lips brushed against my newly exposed skin.

"So beautiful." The lips whispered.

I closed me eyes and tried to inch away, but beening trapped in this rope was not helping.

"Aw, babe." He chuckled, "don't pull away. You'll love this."

From the way he said babe to the way he chuckled, I knew this was Ashton.

I could feel my heart sinking to the ground. I clenched my fists and tried to endure this.

There was some tugging at my ropes. They were becoming looser. I was soon relieved when my trap had fell to the ground.

Ashton stood to his full height infront of me, burning his eyes into my skin.

"Stand." He breathed out effortlessly.

Knowing the strange ownership he now had over me, I stood to my feet.

"Look at me." He tilted my head up to face his.

The height difference was amazing. He seemed almost a foot taller.

His grip on my chin did not dare to leave.

I studied his face a bit. It's exactly how it always was. Maybe a bit sad, but still the same. The golden eyes, the small stubbles surrounding his mouth. Beautifully chiseled in every way. It's difficult to believe that this angel was now a monster.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when he spoke again.

"I can't get anything out of you, can I?" Oh, I hope he was referring to words.

I blinked widely a few times as silent as a cricket.

"I guess screams won't count." He whispered.

Worry flashed across my eyes.

His fingers left my chin-the feeling of them now lingering-and grasped the fabric of my tshirt.

"Come." He said and pulled me by my shirt, behind him.

I know you're probably thinking: "Why isn't she doing anything?", "She should be freaking out, it's Ashton Irwin."

Well honestly, I'm not quite sure how I feel. My heart is racing, my chest rising. Beads of sweat are forming against my forehead. I'm actually terrified.

He pulled my around several corners, then up some stairs. Our matching pace slowed when he reached a wooden door. His hand gripped the metal of the handle, turning and pushing it inwards.

"Follow." He said and entered the room, releasing my tshirt. I followed cautiously and my back slammed against the door, causing it to close.

The next thing I notice are his eyes staring down into mine.