Meat and Fluids (JTHM Fanfiction) (Nny x Me)

Chapter 22

(Nny's POV)

It's not that I woke up in a strange room, in someone else's bed. No. It's that I WOKE UP. Meaning I had fallen asleep at some point. Shit.

I don't know how fast I bolted up, but it was fast enough to make Roy jump on the other side of the room. He was sat down on a little stool in front of an easel, painting... something. There was a sketchbook next to it that e seemed to be copying the lines from.

He had a window open and a fabric face mask to cover his mouth as he used certain spray paints too. The room smells like acetone and acrylics but the window helped. Kinda.

"Where am I?"

"My room."

"How long."

"What?-"

"HOW LONG WAS I... Was I asleep?" He turned back to the canvas, looking at the clock on the shelf.

"About two hours, little less."

"Why didn't you wake me- AH!"

I AM NAKED!

"WHY AM I NAKED!?" I pulled the blanket around me, trying to hide what I'm sure he's already seen.

His voice was calm, smooth, like the paint. Reassuring in the oddest ways that made me question my emotions. He was using a lot of reds.

"You were wet, I didn't think it'd be comfortable." His voice was still soft, too calm for my liking.

"You could have just woken me up, I would have changed-"

"I wanted you to sleep. Looked like you needed it." He finally turned around, looking at me. I was completely wrapped in the blanket, safe for my head. That was left out so I could glare at him. But then we locked eyes.

"Do you know what it's like..." I started, not sure exactly where I was going with this, "What it's like to wake up, and wonder if anything is even real? To have such a dissolution with humanity that you're scared as soon as you fall asleep, you'll wake up from the dream you think might be reality. Everything changed and confusing, unknown. To wake up and not know if it's still a dream, or nightmare that you'll never get to wake up from again... I don't want to wake up from this. I don't want to go back to being manipulated and hated in my own home..."

I never knew when to stop talking, but I think this time it was okay. He Looked at me, smile gone, face sad and...

He set his work down, paint being set on his desk. I think at one point it was white, but it was covered in so much paints and drinks that it was hard to tell. Every part of his house was clean, except his room. Clothes, weapons, confiscated materials and objects from his 'work'. I could hurt him with so many things, it was dangerous for me to be in here. It was dangerous for him to be in here with me.

"This isn't a dream..." He tried, sitting on the edge of the bed. Fabric mask still tight against his face.

"How can you be sure?" I never could be, things are so hazy in reality, and so realistic in a dream, it all looks the same. Normally it doesn't matter, but now that I have a plan, I don't want it to all be lost. "I don't want to wake up and have everything I've worked towards vanish... or not remember it... not remember you..." I mumbled the last part, hoping he wouldn't hear it. I don't think he did, but still... it was nice to say out loud as if he did.

"Well... I don't think it's a dream... if it is, is it a good one?"

"... Yes. It has been a good dream. For the most part."

"What was the not so good part?" he asked. It was comforting in a strange way. To have someone ask you questions.

"When I left... Keep asking questions, I like this."

"Like what? The conversation?"

"Yeah, it's distracting. I can't hear the voices, but it's like- like static. Like the snow on the TV between channels. Just, in the back of my brain, static, where the voices used to be before they left." Did they ever really leave? I don't hear them there anymore, but I can never NOT hear the static! Like a crinkle of a paper against my skull...

"I like it too. The conversations. I like talking to you. Hearing you speak. Like a screaming dead poet, clawing his way from the grave to reclaim something. But he's forgotten what he's come back for."

"Maybe I came back for..." For you. Shut up, that's shit. Don't say it out loud!

At this point Roy had gotten up and sat down again, handing me a change of clothes. I didn't even bother to ask him to leave. Knowing him, he probably wouldn't have. Leaving me alone in a room full of weapons and an open window? Yeah, no, sure. Fuck you.

I pulled the blanket over me, changing in the darkness under the comforter.

When I came back up, I was met eye to eye with my kidnapper. Fuck it was weird to think that way...

And, out of nowhere, he kissed my nose. He kissed my nose...

But it wasn't like last time. The fabric was still in the way, so nothing really... touched, but I felt it again. That DRILL through my lungs that made that unpleasantly pleasant pain in my torso...

He was smiling at me again. Soft and small and hard to see with the mask.

And then Roy leaned down again. Flesh on fabric, nothing touching, but our lips were on the same spot on each side of the mask... He kissed me.

Kiss, kissed me. The closest thing I think I've EVER had to a kiss. Or anything of the sort. And I...  didn't hate it.

I even kissed back...

I- I think. More of a push back towards him, but that's all it really was now wasn't it? Right?

I wanted to say something. But when he leaned back I couldn't speak. I couldn't find a single cohesive thought to explain the tightening burning behind my ribcage. It hurt in the best of ways and I never wanted it to stop, and the only way I could still feel like this... the only way I could still FEEL was...

With him.

"Let's get you ready for tomorrow."