*PAUSED*Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter two

My hands begin to shake as I tip-toe over to the window. My body still feeling weak, my wrists still as sore as an open wound. I take a quick glance at the throthy, silky bubble bath and contemplate giving up my potential freedom, in order to feel the silky, warm water meet my every ache.

I shake the thoughts out of my head, and begin to place my pale, fragile hands on to the handle of the pale white window, my hands almost blending in entirely. 

Cautiously, I begin to push down on the rusty metal handle and push my shoulder in to the window, in an attempt to open it.

My whole body freezes, as the door squeaks open. Both relief and dread hovering over me. My eyes snap over to the bathroom door, closely watching the door knob to make sure it's not opening.

I take a deep breath, as I slowly lift my right leg out of the window. I'm not sure how far from the ground I am, but I know that we are on the ground floor.

Using the bath and the sink in my close proximity, I pull myself up in to the frame of the window. I sit on the frame, one leg hanging out, and throw my other leg over. Leaving my legs hanging loose out of the window, as I sit on the frame of the window. I peak down at the distance, and there's a slight jump. The leafy, muddy floor making my landing softer. I look up and next to the main house that I'm currently trying to escape, is gates and a small box building.

I close my eyes, swallow my fear and jump in to the air, making my long chesnut-brown hair float in the atmosphere.

In a blink of an eye, my palms smacks against the hard, dirty ground as so do my knee's. My whole body throbs at the intense abuse it's constantly being through. My face smacks the ground and I wince at the sudden pain. I incorrectly judged the jump.

I place my hands and knee's flat on the fround, and use my left foot to begin to push me up. The cold wind cascades down my spine, and I find myself shivering. The dark, gloomy sky begins to cloud over further.

As I stand, I freeze when I feel a strong grip on my shoulder.

Suddenly, my body gets spun around and I'm met with a familiar face; Mr Styles. His dark, green eyes turn the atomsphere even darker, and his clenched jaw makes my eyes bulge.

I swallow, ashamed of my actions. But why should I be? I'm trying to escape a hostage.

I can't move my brown eyes elsewhere from his emerald ones. He somehow has me locked on to him, stood there as if we're on pause.

I can't even manage to speak.

In suprisment, he speaks; "What did I tell you?" He says, in a quiet, low, dominant voice.

I begin to gap my mouth, but nothing will come out.

"ANSWER ME!" HE SHOUTS with a ear-ringing tone as his volume smashes through the atomosphere.

He places both of his hands tightly on my shoulders.

"... Not to..." I whisper, stopping to cough in an attempt to find my voice again; "Not to try anything..." I bowe my head down in shame.

He nodds. Still starring deep in my eyes. "And Elena, tell me, what are you doing out here?" He returns back to his mysterious, quiet, low tone.

I pause.

Wait, I'm here, because he, or 'his' people kidnapped me and hung me up in a dark basement, leaving me to rot away, yet he's having a go at me for trying to escape.

My blood begins to boil and I feel a rush of energy pass over me.

I suddenly my place my hands flat against his chest and shove with all the power I have.

"BECAUSE I WANT TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" I scream whilst watching him stumble back, catching his balance.

I turn on my heel, sprinting, as fast as possible, until I suddenly get pulled back, making me stumble on to the ground.

"LISTEN, KEEP YOUR FUCKING VOICE DOWN. I SAID I WOULD HELP YOU. I DIDN'T WANT THIS TO HAPPEN, I WISH I COULD JUST LET YOU GO BUT-" Mr Styles pauses, as he hoovers above me. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

"Elena, please. You have to trust me. In order to get you out of here, you can't pull moves like this on me, okay? I need you to swear to me that from right now, you will obey me? For your own good..." His eyes glow in desperation. His frown causing my head to sink. Every verbalised word escaping his tongue intrigues me.

He stretches out his long, tattoed arm as his hand shakes with a desperate hand shake to ceal the deal.

Should I trust him?

Since he arrived, well the second time,  he's treated me like a decent human being. The desperation in his eyes convinces me that he cares for my well-being.

Quickly, I raise my hand and bury it in to his enormous one. The storm in his eyes begins to calm.

He pulls me up from the ground, and continues to hold a firm grip around my hands.

He flips the looses strands of curles escaping his gelled hair, and licks his soft plump pink lips. He looks me deep in the eyes and whispers; "I promise, I will look after you."