CRAVED

SIXTEEN

Geneva  couldn't place focal reasoning as to why she suddenly wanted to drop to her knees regardless of Marcelo's  supportive hold on her. His handkerchief returned to his pocket after he cleaned her lips and in that action too, her mind had been elsewhere. On the  men held captive in each glass cell.

Geneva analyzed the now mentally  burned image of the naked men that were held behind  the thick-looking  glass held bondage.

Their skin clung onto their rib cages gauging by the defined outlines of each section. The defined outline was not only because of their arms that were tied and held above their head that heightened the stretch but there  was the nearly alarming resemblance brought by the physical state of marasmus concerning one's torso.  They had been starved for sure.

What had Marcelo been doing to them and for how long?

Mentally straggling, Geneva's eyes stayed glued onto  the  spilled contents that covered   the floor. 
The chyme of her gut was far from appealing, but she couldn't get herself to look away same time she fought to familiarize herself with the bitter acidic  taste that was left  in her mouth.

She could feel the  beat of her heart  against her chest and the after-effects that played the course after emptying one's guts out.

"Come"

Marcelo placed his hand out for her to take  and she stared at it, tasting the state of her current mouth and tongue, forcefully familiarizing herself with it and meeting the difficulty.

Geneva decided to straighten on her own, her facial features folded displaying her discomfort and pain as she felt a sharp painful stitch from the center of her diaphragm and found herself holding onto  his forearm for support wincing with an ache.

Marcelo helped her straighten in such a delicate pace her mind let him whilst she fought to regain a state of inner normality of any sort regardless of its quantity, not fully aware and comprehending that he was gently guiding and had turned the both of them to   face the cause of  her  stomach's churning.

She discovered it only too late when she was already near Marcelo's destination. She made effort to slow both of them down as he led them closer to the thick-looking glass which was all merely a futile struggle in her case. She couldn't speak as they neared and approached  the men whose dignity in regard to  nudity was stripped off of them.

Afraid to  hold the glass for support because of the display presented, her arm shook and retreated back to Marcelo's arm.

Scared to approach.

It was worrying.

" c-can we stay here?"

Geneva's voice came out strained with something foreign accompanying,  a crocked cry. She couldn't physically get any closer than they already were. Her legs had taken to staying  rooted to where they were. They were close enough, too close for the matter because she could see the men's outline in perfect detail without difficulty whatsoever.

Marcelo stood beside her silent. And she too stayed silent. Each second that ticked away consisted of her fighting a quiver.

She knew these men and seeing the one in front of her made it clear as day that she was well aware of who they were. They'd met in Mexico during her run just like Marcelo had pointed out, though it hadn't been formally, she'd been running away from them but she would never forget the man that was  held bondage in front of her.

" besides chasing you," Marcelo began and Geneva's breath hitched "speaking vile about you," his voice a silent calm,  she looked up at him because it didn't aline with how sturdy his arm felt nor the eerie atmosphere that had the hair at her nape standing.