Honeysuckle: Red

Chapter 3: Hunger

You stayed seated on the couch. The master of the house had told you not to move and you intended to hold to that request as best as you could. You heard the door open and close and realized he had left you in his house, fully unattended as far as you could tell.

You were exhausted. It wasn't just the run through the forest for hours that had done you in, it was the emotional rollercoaster that it had been from the moment you had stepped foot into this house. It was, in all ways, a sanctuary compared to what you had run from, but the experience was far more intense than you had expected.

You were neither injured, nor consumed, nor returned to the facility.

Now that relief was sinking into your body and your adrenaline was fading, there was very little keeping you awake or aware. The fire in the hearth was comforting, not too hot, and the flames were a little mesmerizing as you started to doze off sitting upright. Every crack and pop of the fire helped to keep you awake, every creak of a house you weren't used to. Each noise hits your brain like the boots of marines breaking down the door to drag you back.

But you only have so much to give, and you've long since reached the limits of your stamina. Head lulling back, you sink into the couch and fall asleep.

It's hard to say how long you dozed off, but you're vaguely aware of the eyes on you before you open your own. Sitting across from you is the master of the house, looking unperturbed and relaxed.

"Enjoy your nap?" He asks, golden eyes glancing up from the book he's reading to regard you for a moment before he returns to it.

"Y-yes, my apologies." You groan, sitting up and trying to focus. You're still bone-tired, so you couldn't have slept for too long.

"You look like death warmed over, little flower." He says, not even looking up at this point. "Fortunately for you, when I play with my food, I like it to be able to fight back." He pauses, glancing up again.

"Sorry, play back."

He lets the discomfort of the implication sink into you a little before returning back to his book. "Since you gifted yourself to me, I'm sure you can guess what that means."

"Th-that-."

"That I can do whatever the fuck I want," he says, cutting you off. "I haven't had an amusing distraction in long time, so I intend to make the most of you. With that in mind, you're going to sleep."

Quicker than you could see, he was beside you. One hand was under you, lifting you up and over his shoulder before he walked out of the room. "I'm going to put you in a room, and you're going to stay in that room until I come get you."

"Y-yes, but um... b-bathroom?" The heat of his hand against your thigh is making your face red. Aside from the earlier man-handling as he jerked you around in the dark, you weren't really used to physical touch. Aside from medical exams and blood-typing, there wasn't much interaction even between your fellow honeysuckles.

"There's one connected to the guest room." He says, walking through the dark mansion. "Leave the drapes closed, keep the lights low. If you get cold, sleep, don't light a fuckin' fire."

Walking into a room he tosses you off his shoulder. You yelp as you land on the bed, and once you're done bouncing against the mattress he grabs your face, squishing your cheeks, and turning your face in one direction. "Bathroom."

Letting go of your face he glares down at you for a moment. "You're exhausted, repeat the rules. I want to know you heard me."

"Don't leave the room. Don't light a fire. D-don't touch the drapes?" You answer, rubbing your jaw a little.