ATARAXIA • BELLAMY BLAKE

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Trigger warning: This chapter contains some mentions of torture and abuse.

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When my eyes open, they're only met by more darkness. I straighten my back and adjust it against the cave wall. My one shoulder blade is sore. Like it has been repeatedly slammed against the wall. I groggily rub my eyes to see better, but it does little to help.

It takes a while for the memories of what happened to come back to me. It was morning. I provoked him, and he knocked me out. I vaguely remember waking up at some point before eventually passing out again. Now it's night time.

He must have slipped me some more tea when I had come back to it earlier, to keep me down the rest of the day. The other times that I had protested his treatment of me, before I'd given up on it, he'd usually beaten the hell out of me to set me straight. Not this time. But even though my mind doesn't remember exactly what he'd done to me in those hours, my body does.

I'm hurting all over. When I reach my chained hand out to remove some hair that's sticking to my weirdly sweaty neck, the tips of my fingers brush against some bruises.

The only source of light in here is the slight flickering orange of the remaining embers in the corner. It can't have been too long since he'd made himself some food over there. Usually he cooks some sort of meat. How he's able to eat after everything he does will never cease to baffle me. But one thing I've noticed is that he's low on food rations. He'll have to go hunting soon if he doesn't want to starve.

My vision's all fuzzy around the edges, which makes the little light the embers offer all distorted at the edges.

This has to have been the biggest dose he has ever given me. Enough to keep me asleep for this long, and still this groggy. I'm sure it was supposed to last until the morning. The thought of that is enough reason for me not to go back to sleep, despite the temptation.

For a long time I continue to watch the embers. But then they die out. It's not until I'm left in complete darkness that I hear the heavy breathing next to me. Feel it, even. On my knee.

My eyes follow the sound and stop once they spot him. I'm still adjusting to the darkness, so all I see is his silhouette. But his hot, damp breath gives away which way he's facing.

I'm surprised to find him here. To not have noticed until now, although I do realize why that is.

Usually he leaves as soon he's done with me. He has a makeshift bed in the corner that he sleeps on. It doesn't look that comfortable, but anything is better than being forced to sleep sitting up, on and against rocks. He must have really tired himself out this time.

I want to push him away. To get his disgusting breath off of me, but I have to just wait it out. Until he wakes up and realizes he never made it to his bed and leaves.

I will the embers to light back up so that I can have something else to focus on. They refuse my wish.

"Pretend you're somewhere else."

The voice comes from somewhere a little left to the now dark fireplace. Just by the opening to the cave, he sits leaned against the wall. Despite it being pitch black in here, moonlight bounces off one of his cheekbones. I can barely make out it features, but it's him.

"Jaime," I breathe, finally mustering a small smile.

He smiles back, somberly. "Pretend we're on the Ark. Dream yourself away from this place."

"I've tried." But the Ark's no better. I don't tell him I think so. "How are you here?"

"Does it matter?" he asks calmly.