In The Dark

x9x

        “Come on, how can you even think you know what love is when no one has ever loved you?”
    “How would you know, then? You said you've never experienced love either.” My response made him quiet himself completely.

    Lately we've been talking like this.
It was weird at first, but as the conversations become more frequent the ‘playing’ becomes less so, which I'm grateful for, so the conversations don’t bother me as much as they used to.

    “Here. I don't need this anymore, since everyone thinks you're dead” He hands me my cellphone “no one would believe it was you anyways, even if you had tried to contact someone.”

    I thanked him and set it down on the bed at my side. He then layed down with his hands folded behind his head, as if old friends were just hanging out.
    “Do you want some new clothes?” he asked nonchalantly, and it almost seemed like he was being genuine.
    It would be nice to change out of these sweat pants that I've been wearing for almost a month. I briefly thought to myself before nodding.
He then stood and exited the room without so much as noise.

                        ………

What I expected was more old clothes that I assumed had belonged to him, judging from the condition of them, that is.

That was certainly not what I got. 
   
When Jungkook came back, nearly an hour later, he had bags from three different, high-end clothing stores. I couldn’t hide the look of absolute shock written on my face.

Yoongi, you can't be
won over with gifts.
Remember, You're this
man, no, this killer’s, hostage.

He emptied the bags onto my bed.
    “You're going to be here for a long time, so I thought  you might need more than just one outfit”
    I began rifling through the clothes and I  find a pair of ripped black jeans and a green sweater. I quickly thank him, profusely, but I found myself waiting for his exit, so I could change in privacy. Still, there he stood, expectantly.
I should have known.
I can’t say I didn’t understand why he hadn’t left. He didn’t want to take the chance of my possible hiding of the many small, sharp items that lay stacked on the now seldom used cart of tools that lie in the far corner of the room. Now that he's so-called ‘Playtime’ had so much as vanished, each tool sat still, with a thin layer of dust gathering along the top.
   
        So I sighed, and hid behind a sheet from my bed as I changed.

He laughed and headed out of the room, sweatpants in hand, taking the bag he had brought with him and leaving the pile of clothes strewn on the mattress.
The door clicked, and I was once again, alone.