Subject R - ON HOLD

chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Once the door shut behind me, it felt like my lungs decided to shut off.

I couldn't breathe, couldn't suck in even the tiniest breath of oxygen through my lips. They were just frozen, shocked apparently, like they couldn't believe I'd dare set foot in this room again. On the other hand, my heart seemed right up to snuff and was hammering away like it wanted to beat through my ribs and body and run for dear life. I debated that briefly, but I was reminded that I couldn't breathe just yet.

My eyes were drawn directly to the only dark spot in the white-padded cell, Subject R. His black scrubs made almost impossible not to look at, along with the fiery redness of his hair. When I met eyes with him - the pale blue just as stand-out as the rest of his colors - my lungs decided to function again. I drew in a panicked gasp at the memory of those blue eyes, my brain taking me back to when that was the last thing I'd seen before I'd fainted.

Can someone say bad memories?

I squeeze my eyes shut and then try to calm down my breathing. Maybe this would have been easier if I could have held my breath through it. Goodness Gracious, calm the hell down! I yell at myself and somewhat succeed. My heart still thinks its running a marathon.

Then my feet being to take me forward. I keep my eyes on the white, cushy floor as I walk, watching my little white white slipper things take me closer and closer to a thing of terror. The bundle in my arms rattles with the tremors in my hands. When I'm sure that I must be close enough, I stop, still staring at my feet.

Okay...one...two...three...A little after three (because I'm a chicken) I force myself to look up. Subject R is probably ten feet from me, still sitting criss-cross apple-sauce. But the expression on his face! Holy crap!

He's smiling. It isn't a beamer smile, but it's still gorgeous. And yet I can see something else on his face too. The way his chin is tilted upwards gives me the impression that he's smug. Or pompous. Or something. And the look in his eyes...mischievous? I feel like an idiot trying to make these assumptions, but hell, why not practice? I realize that I've just been staring at him, so I muster up a small greeting smile and then sit down.

I immediately look to the bundle in my arms, glad of a distraction from him. But I suddenly hear a shuffling noise and look up in panic. He's moving. He scoots closer and closer and closer until he's wayyy inside my ten foot range of Somewhat Comfort. He must be a foot away!

I blink at him in surprise and terror. Subject R looks at me and grins with familiarity. Well no dur! I want to slap myself. Of course he recognizes me. I give him another nervous smile, my heart continuing its ridiculous pace. I want to be comfortable and calm; professional. But I can't trust him. I can't. I just can't make myself trust him. I'm much too afraid yet, and as much as I want to feel comfortable...it won't happen.

Looking away from his bright gaze I start fiddling with my package again. With shaking fingers I undo the tie and open it, its contents clinking around. Glancing at Subject R, I can see surprise and curiosity cutting through skepticism.

Slowly, I pick up the shiny, metal nutcracker from the bag. I see his eyes widen and he's suddenly sitting up, jaw clenched, big body rigid. Immediate fear grips me. He's uncertain of the small metal object in my hand, and I don't blame him. But I'm scared because he could hurt me if he doesn't realize what it is. My heart starts to pound louder.

I carefully and slowly click the nutcracker together, watching him as I do, and then take out a walnut from the bag. I place the walnut into the nutcracker and then, placing both hands on the little machine, clench it together. The nut cracks and pieces fleck all over the place. I look at Subject R and his eyebrows are raised. I slowly take a small piece of nut and then eat it.