Taken Captive

Chapter 52

A/N: if you people don't start commenting more, I'm going to cry. your comments are the only reason I'm still publishing. SO COMMENT.

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Callum's POV...

After dragging Nia back into our room, holding her hands down to keep her from fighting me so she could go get another drink, I placed her on the countertop and pulled out the first-aid kit. Reluctantly, she held out her hands for me to examine.

I sighed, "Nia." Then I shook my head. Shards of glass were stuck in her skin, fresh blood was still covering her arms yet she still had a smile on her face, giggling at every little thing. But behind that smile, behind the jokes and shit, I couldn't see anything else.

It was like she was here, she was alive, breathing and functioning like a normal human being but her eyes were empty. Her soul was detached and no longer bringing the same light it brought when our relationship first started. She almost looked completely empty.

But there was a little bit still there. A little bit of that Nia Seymour I first met, that same kindness in her eyes and gentle tone stuck in her vocal cords whenever she spoke. Everything was brought onto her so suddenly, she had to endure all of this pain just to be with me.

"Ow." She dropped her face onto my chest when I pulled out another piece, "Just leave them in, Muffin. They make me look like a superhero that can shoot glass shards out of her hands."

I shook my head, "No. Get up, I need to get all of this out." She did and let out a sigh, looking down at Miles who sat beside us curiously and stuck her tongue out at him, playfully. She let out a hiss when I took out another one.

When I finished taking out the big pieces, I grabbed some baking soda and water, mixing them together to make a soft paste. After washing her hands off and making sure there was no more blood, I applied it to her skin then wrapped her hands up with gauze.

"There," I said, backing away and starting to clean everything up.

"Muffin." She whispered.

"Yeah?" I turned to her while putting the kit back in its cabinet.

"I can't brush my teeth with this on my hands." She smiled, happy that I'd have to do it for her. I rolled my eyes and prepared her toothbrush for her. She gave me a big smile, showcasing all of her teeth and I brushed all of them.

"Open," I muttered. She did and stuck her tongue out for me to scrub clean as well. "Good girl."

Her smile grew at the praise and I couldn't help but laugh. The littlest things turned her on, it was crazy.

"Your hands are very big," She commented, pulling on one of my fingers that rested on the counter and lined her hand up with mine. I looked into the mirror, seeing how tiny her hand was compared to mine.

"I think yours are just very small." I washed her toothbrush then put it away. She hopped off of the counter, almost falling over but managed to steady herself and washed out her mouth.

"Muffin." She sang. I turned around and she threw her arms up, "I can't get changed by myself either."

I nodded, "Come on." When I turned away from her, I let out a deep breath. This should've been turning me on, I should've been finding this adorable and revelled in her carelessly confident attitude when she was drunk.

But I couldn't. I couldn't get myself to enjoy it the way she did because I knew the reason she was drunk. She wasn't getting drunk every day to let loose and have fun. No, she was getting drunk so that she didn't have to face her emotions.