Doors open.

So many times.

Complete darkness was all I felt. Around me, in my mind, in my very bones. And Merlin the headache I have feels like my skull is going to crack into two.

Like I was trapped in an abyss of discomfort.

His words...

Mattheos words ringing in my ears.

He was in my head.

In. My. Head.

That was the last thing I remembered.

Oh fuck.

Where am I?!

I try and try to pry my eyelids open but they won't budge. I can't control my arms or legs as I try to wiggle them awake.

Panic.

I'm started to panic.

"Relax." His words flew through my head again, and my whole body tensed, my head throbbing even worse.

This means I'm still with him, wherever i fucking way.

Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I'm going to allow you to move now, but you have to promise me you won't scream, or fight, or yell." His voice sounded... gentle?

How can he expect me to promise that when I have no fucking clue where I am?!

"Because you have to trust me."

OH? He can read my thoughts too? Well this is going to get me nowhere, and fast.

Before I could process anything, the blanket was pulled back, allowing my eyes to flutter open, my arms and legs to finally stretch and for me to finally take in, what exactly happened.

As I slowly took in my surroundings, my mind reeling with the implications of my situation, I felt a wave of disorientation wash over me. I was lying on a Mattheos bed, it was light out now, and my body felt heavy and numb, as if it was trying to process the trauma that had been inflicted upon me.

I struggled to sit up, my mind racing with questions and my body screaming in protest. The room was dimly lit, with only a few flickering candles to illuminate the space. But what really caught my attention was the figure standing in the corner, watching me with an unreadable expression.

The figure was Mattheo, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, his dark hair mussed and his eyes rimmed with fatigue.

But despite his tired appearance, there was a quiet power emanating from him, a sense of control that made me feel trapped and helpless.

As I met his gaze, I felt a shiver run down my spine, and my heart began to race in response to the unspoken threat that hung in the air. I tried to speak, to ask him what was going on, but my voice caught in my throat, and all that came out was a weak, desperate gasp.

As I laid frozen, Mattheo's eyes seemed to bore into my soul, his gaze a cold, calculating probe that left me feeling naked and vulnerable, as if he could see every secret, every fear, and every weakness I possessed.

Because he could.

Because he was in my head.

"Before I say anything else," he broke the silence, "I want you to tell me what you were doing on the tower last night."

So it was just last night...

His voice was low and even, lacking any inflection or emotion, but it sent a shiver down my spine as his piercing gaze never wavered, demanding an answer from me as if he already knew the truth and was simply waiting for me to confirm it.