The manipulation games (Y/N x 001)

His touch

Chapter five:

You gasped as you awoke, your mind blank as you surveyed the unfamiliar room.

I really need to stop passing out

You thought, unsure of how long you have been sat in the stainless steel chair you were handcuffed to.

Unlike the pristine white rooms before, this one was made of dark tiles, dimly lit.

You shuddered, remembering the guards you stabbed, as you saw that you were still in the soaked nightgown, more red than white at this point. Your breaths came shallow, as it hurt to breathe.

The door cracked open, and Dr Brenner entered, followed by Blondie and the two remaining guards you had attacked, a murderous look on the latters faces. You jolted back as you saw a taser in the bandaged hand of the guard. Your heart raced as you realised you were handcuffed to the table

Brenner stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, as he said in that irritating voice, "017, there are repercussions to your actions. If you misbehave, you must be disciplined, and your behaviour was unacceptable."

"Fuck you," you hissed, leaning forward. "Stop talking like a disappointed father."

"I hope you will see this as a lesson," he said calmly, retreating a few steps. The guards stepped forward. Your breathing quickened with terror and you looked to Blondie, and he nodded slightly, an unreadable intensity in his eyes that made you want to shudder with either pleasure or fear.

The stabbed guard tased you, an ugly smile on his face. You screamed, slumping in your chair as he barely gave you a break between tases. In the corner of your eye, you saw that Blondie was approaching and he said sternly to the guard, "Enough."

Brenner nodded, one hand resting below his chin. He was such a stuck up asshole. "Escort her to her room," he said dismissively to no one in particular.

Blondie stalked forward, and you almost sighed in relief that he volunteered instead of one of the guards. Ignoring the cameras and Brenner, he wrapped his arm around your waist and under your knees without warning, carrying you with a gentleness that caught you completely off guard. You might have worried about Brenner's anger if it weren't for the fact that you were certain that you were physically incapable of walking. Blondie kicked the door open with your foot as you wrapped your arms around him, burrowing your head in his neck. 'He smells so good,' you thought drowsily.

He walked down the corridor swiftly, his hands gripping you possessively. Your face heated up as you fought the emerging blush in your face. He kicked open another door to a small closet with a sink with cabinets above and a counter opposite it that he placed you on.

You felt awkward, as neither of you said anything, only the sounds of his heavy, ragged breaths as he seethed. He turned around to fill a bowl with warm water and soap and placed it beside you.

"Do you mind if I take this off to clean your wound?" he asked softly. Your heart raced as you realised you had to take off your nightgown for him to clean it. You nodded soundlessly, gulping at the thought of being almost bare in front of a man you barely trust.

His elegant fingers skimmed the hem around your thighs and pushed it up. "Raise your hips," he commanded quietly, but you could hear a hint of that barely contained anger. He raised the gown above your head, leaving you in only your underwear. You blushed at the intimacy of being alone in your underwear with him, whilst he was fully clothed. You wanted to even the playing field. But he respectfully pretended to ignore your immodesty, keeping his eyes fixed on his task.

He grabbed a cloth and gently cleaned the wound, one hand splayed on your thigh possessively. You hissed in pain, grabbing his hand reflexively. His beautiful eyes looked up at you, frowning in concern.

"Sorry," you laughed nervously, shaking your head.

His eyes trailed to the bruise on your cheek from where the guard had hit you and that immense rage returned. His hand raised up to the bruise as it to touch it, but he refrained, looking down. "You have nothing to be sorry about," he said dangerously quietly. He continued to clean the stab wound, more gently this time.

"Maybe I should have trusted you " you said, unable to peel your eyes off the hand he placed on your thigh. You kicked yourself at the confession. Every one of his touches send electricity through your body. This was so dangerous. He looked up, and his hardened look of anger softened. In the light, his sea blue eyes looked more captivating than ever, and you wanted to plunge your fingers into his fluffy blonde hair. Wait. No. What the fuck was wrong with you?

He was so kind to you and yet you knew nothing about him, or even why he was being so nice. "Why are you helping me?" You asked, a slightly accusatory tone in your voice.

His lips curled into that warm smile. "Because," he said in a conspiratorial tone, "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Okay...Can I at least know your name?" You asked expectantly.

You saw a trace of something flickering in his eye before he quickly answered, "It doesn't matter."

"I guess I'm going to keep calling you Blondie then if you're going to give me cryptic answers," you said, tilting your head to the side and smiling slightly.

"That's fine with me," he said, his lips curling into that smile again. Your heart fluttered, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips before bringing yourself back to reality.

He reached for a needle and thread, stitching the wound perfectly with his hands that seemed to never shake. You wondered where he learned to tend to wounds like that. Taking a plaster out of the cabinet, he placed it over the stitches and smiled up at you. You reached to put your blood soaked nightgown on but his hand stopped you. "Wait here, I'll find you something else to wear." You nodded, swallowing.

He slipped out of the room, and you let out a shaky breath you didn't know you had been holding. God, why his did every touch make your body react so much? Despite being so vulnerable, you felt so safe around him, which you knew was wrong.

After a few minutes, he returned with a folded white button up shirt, clearly far too big for you. He left the room whilst you got changed. The shirt seemed to hang on you and it almost went to your knees.

Oh god

You thought. The shirt smells just like him. Were you wearing his clothes?

You opened the door after getting changed and couldn't help but notice way he looked at you. He smiled reassuringly as he asked, "are you all done?" You nodded. He clasped your hand tightly, leading you down the corridors slowly, shooting down concerned glances every now and again, as if he wasn't sure if you could walk. His iron grip did not let go of yours the entire time as he led you to your room.

He unlocked the door and held the door open for you, leading you to your bed. You might have told him that he doesn't need to be so attentive if it weren't for the fact that you were so exhausted. He pulled back the covers and helped you into bed. Despite the coldness of the room, you were burning up, suddenly craving a cold shower.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he said softly as you closed your eyes. He shut the door and left, leaving you in the darkness of your room.

It was such a strange interaction, you thought as you drifted to sleep, the throbbing of your stab wound becoming a dull pain in the drowsiness.

This chapter was written by Rain <3