stockholm syndrome

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

you can't trust him.

The thought rips me out of sleep as I quickly sit up, my heart racing in my chest. I glance over to the clock and huff at the time; 3:00am. I bring my hands to my eyes, attempting to rid them of the drowsy feeling.

Might as well get some water, won't be sleeping again too soon. I force myself out of bed and make my way over to the kitchen, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of Scott asleep on the couch.

My cheeks begin to warm up and I shake off the feeling, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and filling it with water before leaning against the counter for support while I drink. My mind has been buzzing ever since Scott came back yesterday...I'm torn about wether to believe him or not.

My mind flickers back to nights when he'd hold me, his arms feeling like the safest place in the world while we talked—but then I remember the look in his eyes as he handed me over to his father. And what he'd said.

I hear him shift on the couch and peek my head around the corner just enough to see he had turned to face the entryway, still deep in sleep. Had I not seen him and who he really is, I'd almost say he looks innocent.

Would've fooled me. I down the rest of the water and set the cup in the sink before retreating to my room, I let out an exhale as I close the door behind me.

A few minutes pass as I sit on my bed, staring at the opposite wall while a storm of thoughts swirl in my head. The AC kicks on and a cool breeze flows through the room, gently ruffling the curtains by the window.

I glance over briefly and watch them slowly wave, half of one still missing from when Scott ripped it off to bind me. I could never bring myself to replace it, I'm not sure why—but I bought a new pair the first week I returned home, it just sits in my closet, unopened.

I look down to where my hands rest in my lap, trying to think of something else. Eventually, I lay back and my brain feels silent for the first time in weeks. I glance at the clock once more—4:15am. Another night of sleep, gone. I sigh and turn to face away from the clock.

Why me?

***

The blinding sun is what wakes me, along with the smell of coffee and...cinnamon? I hop out of bed and make my way to the kitchen, where Scott is setting a plate of fruit on the table in the midst of several others with assorted breakfast dishes.

He looks over and flashes a smile, just the sight of it makes my heart lurch. After setting the plate down he walks over, and I step back as he approaches. "Sorry I didn't wake you, figured I'd let you sleep a bit longer after last night." His statement strikes confusion in me. Was he awake?

I suddenly find myself walking over to the table, the smell of food telling me to sit and eat while my mind tells me that it could be poisoned. Scott had already sat down and began to eat, taking a bit of food off each plate. "Sit down, love. I don't bite." He says before taking a bite of the toast he'd buttered.

He's acting strange... I sit in the chair opposite to him and rest my hands in my lap, debating wether to eat or not. A few minutes pass and my stomach growls. I'm hungry, yes, but no matter how nice he acts or how many times he apologizes—I still have no reason to trust him.

Scott says nothing and continues to chow down. I eventually grab a single slice of toast and a couple strawberries, placing them on the plate in front of me. Scott doesn't seem to notice, too preoccupied with the food on his own plate.

If he's eating the food and he's okay, it can't be poisoned. I slowly pick up one of the strawberries, peeling the stem off before placing it in my mouth and chewing. I feel...fine? After a couple more minutes I realize the food isn't poisoned and that I could eat more.