Detain the Beast

Chapter Five

"Since we're like... friends-"

"We are not friends."

"Right, well... surely you can tell me what you're doing in that book of yours?" I give him a half-hearted smile as I perch myself across the end of Augustus' bed.

"It's none of your business." He mumbles, pulling the darn book closer to his face.

The groan that slips from my lips is a lot louder than I expect as I slide down from his bed, onto the floor. Augustus looks over, placing his book across his chest. He gazes at me casually but says nothing.

"Who cuts your hair if it grows too long?" I'm not sure why I ask but I hold his stare.

"I do." His hair is perfectly cut and I'm not even surprised. It doesn't stop my hand from reaching out and taking a tuft of it through my fingers, awed by its smoothness. Augustus grabs my wrist before my second stroke, stopping me curtly.

With one hand still wrapped tightly against my wrist, his other floats to my neck, sending one thumb to the line of my jaw.

"How could anyone think you murdered your mother?" I can feel his breath against my cheek, creating a whirlwind of unexpected emotions to pour through my veins.

"Oh... well-"

"Your muscles are so undefined it's ridiculous-"

"Uhh..."

"-and you have no core muscles. I'm certain-"

"- well, okay -"

"-that you couldn't even throw a punch that would bruise even slightly."

"They think I poisoned her." My bottom lip trembles but I clench my fists to keep myself from tearing up. Just mentioning my mother brings a wall of pain and I feel so damn weak.

"Any sane person knows differently." He whispers, his thumb tracing the outline of my bottom lip. It's almost like he's paying me a compliment until he leans away. "You couldn't defend yourself against a puppy."

"Don't belittle me!"

"I'm telling you the truth, gumdrop."

"Gumdrop?! You don't even know me, honey bun!"

His lips tilt into the slightest smirk and he presses his body against the headrest, eyebrows raised.

"I know you enough, peaches."

I narrow my eyes, getting up from his bed and sulking towards my own. "That was the worst one yet. Peaches." I shake my head, tsking, stretching both arms in the air.

"It's what you smell like. And vanilla. Peaches and vanilla." He mumbles, almost to himself but I hear so clearly that I freeze, turning myself to face him.

"I don't use peach or vanilla soap." I can only mutter in reply.

"I know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The obsession Augustus has with his book is almost crippling me. I need to know why he spends hours on one page, scribbling words and lines and shapes.

Just as he slips out to take his shower, I rush to his pillow, pulling out the book, counting the seconds.

120, 119, 118...

It's heavy, for some reason, weighing a lot more than I remember 'To Kill A Mockingbird' to. My eyes flick to the door before I open the ruffled paper, furrowing my eyebrows at the seemingly random lines sprawled across the pages.

It's mostly squares and rectangles and I have no idea what the hell he's been sketching.

I flick through the pages, unable to recognise words that were so heavily drawn over. A small square, obviously drawn by Augustus, on the far right, is circled roughly on every single double page.

And it suddenly clicks. The exit. Each page is a new attempt at an escape plan. Every page is a new and updated outline of the prison.

The door creaks.

I slam the book shut, tuck it under his pillow and lie face up on the floor between our beds.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He asks, wiping the side of his head with the towel.

"I am... just... uhh..." My heart is stuck in my throat.

He doesn't reply, throwing his towel in its usual place and leaning down to pull me onto my feet

"Your shower starts in ten seconds."

I just grin, grab my towel, give him a thumbs up and slip out of the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You went through my book." He's above me, one hand pinning my wrists above me and the other supporting his weight.

I'm silent, scared and a little dizzy.

"Why did you go through my book, Belle?" His lips are curled in a snare and his voice sends shivers across my chilled blood.

"I- how did you know?"

"I could smell you all over my pillow. I gave you the benefit of the doubt at first, thinking your scent had transferred from where you were sitting on my bed. But then I smelt you on my book."

"I'm sorry-"

"Why?"

"You're- you're always on it and every time I ask about it, you ignore me. I just- curiosity got the better of me. I'm sorry." I can't control my breathing and my eyes are watering because I'm too scared to blink.

He suddenly realises my fear and something passes through him - regret, possibly? - before he loosens his grip.

"You're scared."

"Are you going to hurt me?"

He pauses, lifting an eyebrow with perfect precision. "Hurting you would not benefit me."

"But if it did, you would?"

"If you were anyone else... yes."

I frown. "Why not me?"

"You're offended that I don't want to hurt you?"

"I'm not offended. I'm just tired of you assuming I'm weak. I'm not." My voice raises a tone too much but I go with it, lurching my hips forward to get out of his grip. Right into his.

His eyes take two shades darker and I freeze. He leans his face so so close to mine and I regret every stupid word that slipped through my lips.

"Don't do that again."

I nod frantically, watching as he almost glides away from me and back into his own bed.

Silence. Deathly, deadly, strangling-

"I'm going to escape."

My heart leaps and I have no idea what to say. But I don't even get the time to reply.

"And I'm going to take you with me."

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