Damsel | T. Drake ✔

[18]

The light was blinding when she opened her eyes, head throbbing as if it had been hit several times. Instinctively, her hands reached up to her face in order to check if the mask was still in place or not.

Coming in contact with the familiar material over her eyes, her tenseness relieved a bit. She was still wearing her mask though its vision settings had been disrupted, disabling her from seeing anything.

She readjusted the settings by pressing the small knob located near her temple gently and soon enough a giant room swam into focus.

Her body was aching but she couldn't fully relax until she had found out where she was. Because in her position, being unaware could prove to be a fatal mistake.

She had switched into an alert mode, as she didn't recall how she could have possibly gotten there. She wasn't bound in chains though which was a temporary relief.

But she wasn't certain whether she was fully safe or not.

"Hey," a familiar voice reached her and her head turned quickly in the direction where it had come from, despite the fact that it was causing extreme pain to her already.

"Relax, it's just me. Tim."

True enough, sitting on a chair beside her bed was Timothy Drake, the last person she could expect to see after waking up from a concussion.

"Where am I?"

"At my home," he replied, "don't worry, you're safe here."

She felt slightly at ease but before she could lay her head back down and rest, an unsettling thought gripped her; what if Tim had discovered her secret?

And in a move faster than lightning, she had pounced on him, catching him completely off guard. A knife that had slid up from her wrist was held threateningly close to his throat.

Tim was rather alarmed as he leaned back, holding his hands away from her, "what the hell?"

"I don't know where you found me or why you've brought me here, but I swear to these pretty blue eyes of yours that if you've dared to peel off my mask and figured out who I am, I will not hesitate for a second before slitting your throat," her voice was hushed yet threatening.

Tim gulped because never before had she seemed so frightening, "woah, hold up. I don't know what you think of me but I'm a pretty decent guy. I respect your secrecy, Ren."

"So you don't know who I am?"

"Absolutely not. I don't know who you are because I did not try to find out."

He had leaned so far back in the seat that it was balanced on a precarious angle and could topple off any moment.

Hearing that from him, she slid the knife back, retreating so that the chair wouldn't fall, "good for you or else I would've had to kill you and that would be a shame."

Tim was awed by her swiftness even though she had been rather injured already. But it seemed as if due to her current condition, the swift attack had caused her pain as she dropped her head on Tim's shoulder, clearly exhausted.

Her breathing was erratic as if trying to suppress the pain churning inside her yet she held onto him. He was feeling slightly awkward and the blush was rising up to his cheeks. So in order to hide his nervousness, he asked, "how many of these knives do you have hidden in your suit?"

"Fifteen," she breathed.

"No shit," he mumbled because the knives were hidden extremely well that it was quite difficult to tell there was something else underneath the leather suit.