Wicked Desire

11- long days

"Get up"
The door slammed open, Ben marched over to my side. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed, barely awake.
"Help me move some things outside." He dragged me to the back door and I still had no idea what was going on, it was so early.

It's been a full week of this moodiness from him.

He stopped by the door and put boots in front of me, sitting me down, as he laced them up. He stood me up and wrapped a warm coat around me, zipping me up and barely making eye contact with me the whole time. He was still really angry.

We spent the morning transporting logs from a raggedy old shelter to a new one across the garden, except there was a LOT of wood. We went back and forth and back and forth, continuously for about 2 hours. The morning chill made me shiver even though I was moving so much.

I picked up a log and dropped it immediately as a large splinter poked into my skin and I let out a sharp Yelp.
He came over in an instant to my surprise, actually paying attention to my welfare.

He took my finger in his hand, inspecting it. "I'm sorry it just took me by surprise..." he looked up briefly nodding "mmm" well that was brief but at least it was something.

He took me off guard as he brought my finger up to his lips and sucked on it. I flinched as I felt the splinter moving and I realised he was sucking it out. A small pinch came and he brought his head up and removed a short splint of wood from between his teeth, discarding it on the ground.

He pressed his lips against my finger again cleaning a spot of blood that had formed. I could have done this myself, I felt a bit embarrassed really, he was just sucking my finger. But yet I felt myself smiling a bit, thankful that he cared enough to come over and help. I'm not completely hated then...

We moved inside eventually and he took all of my layers off again. I could have done this by myself too, he seemed to like doing things for me, looking after me. So I let him. If it makes him happy then I'll have to just let him crack on. I definitely don't want to get a black eye over unbuttoning my coat by myself...

He sat me down on the sofa and told me to fold all of the sheets, towels, clothes, everything made of any sort of fabric in the house basically. I think he wanted to keep an eye on me, hence why I was doing this from the living room, so he can know I'm there.

This is what the days consisted of. I would sit with him and do a random house job while he sat at his desk writing. He told me it was an important academic article getting published so he needed to concentrate.

One day about another week later when I was hoovering the floor he came over and slapped me across the face because I was taking too long and he couldn't think. I crumpled to the ground from the force of the blow and held my cheek, breathing shallowly. "Get up, go read a book" and off he marched. Leaving me on the floor.

Those occurrences were rare, one evening I broke a glass accidentally and he grabbed my wrist so tight I couldn't feel my hand anymore... leaving me with a dark purple bruise for a few days. It was silly things, but I quickly learnt what to do and what not to do. I couldn't help accidents but I changed what I could, and he slowly got less irritable and violent.

My other wounds were healing nicely from when I first got here. He still insisted that he had to apply everything himself but I got over that in time. The cuts on my face reduced to a faded red mark that would gradually disappear over a period of time. At least I hope it will, I'm very pale so it stands out a bit. I saw him look at it sometimes and there was a sadness in his eyes... guilt? When he put cream on my cuts and bruises I would feel his hand stroke the scarring but I never questioned him about it.

I knew he must have felt bad, I predicted that him treating my wounds was his ritual of making up for what he did. So I gave him that at Least.

The one thing I enjoyed was after dinner, he would put the TV on. It was never on during the day so each evening he would let me sit down with him and watch a movie, tv show, anything that was on really.
One evening I got so excited that seven brides for seven brothers was on, my favourite musical! I laid a blanket down on the ground and situated myself about 4 feet from the TV with a huge smile on my face like a child.

I think my perception of the film had slightly altered considering that the girls are kidnapped and kept in a cabin in the mountains for months with the men who took them... I still enjoyed it but I definitely was living the real life version, maybe not as sing songy and charming...

A moment later he was beside me holding a mug of tea out for me. It was a pleasant surprise and I took it gladly "Thank you that's really nice..."
"Mhmm" I got a lot of those mumbles back these days. Not much communication, so I had to translate what the grumbles were.

*
The 3 weeks spent with moody Ben were the same, nothing much had changed apart from him offering me more cups of tea. The big gesture that got me was when he invited me to sit right beside him on the sofa as we read our books. He got up to boil the kettle and put his hand on my thigh letting out a long tired sigh as he eventually stood up. That small bit of contact shocked me, I didn't feel uncomfortable, I didn't stiffen up... my heart jumped a little when he did it, I liked that he did it ... Jesus what am I thinking?

He actually brightened up for a single minute one afternoon as I turned a blender on and flour flew all over me and my face. He let out a short unexpected laugh as he came over to me and wiped my face. I laughed back "sorry I'll clean it up" he was still amused, wiping my chin "no don't worry, I'll do it, you put that top in the wash." He was getting better, not making me feel as conscious, starting to communicate with me. I realised I loved seeing him smile, genuinely happy and enjoying himself. His eyes lit up when he laughed, it was cute really.

The closest we got was about 2 weeks later when he came into the kitchen one morning and I saw how thick his beard had gotten. Too tired to trim it. It was starting to annoy him so I offered to sort it out. "I can trim it if you want, tidy it up a bit, thin it out..."
"That would require giving you a pair of scissors. Can I trust you with that?"
I gulped, frankly I was offended he thought I would just stab him mindlessly.
"You can trust me. I just want you to be comfortable and that thing on your face is doing quite the opposite" he let out a low chuckle.

After a while we were in the bathroom, him sitting on the chair with his top off, so no hairs get on it. I was standing over him strategically swishing the scissors across his jaw, thinning the mass of hair out as much as I could. I was crouching down so much my back was hurting and I leaned back letting a sigh out.

"Your back hurting?"

"Um yea a little bit, d-do you mind... um, if I..."

"You can just sit here, that's easiest."
He gestured to his lap, I blushed.

I took a seat on his knee and he brought his hand up to rest on my lap and the other supporting my back. This is as intimate as he's been and I was taking it in for a moment, just how gentle he was right now compared to before. I finished quite quickly so I could stand up again, my job done. And we both went about our usual business.

3 weeks of this distance. Just over a month of captivity. I didn't mind him not touching me or expecting anything of me but I still needed communication, some sense of companionship of else I'll go mad...
It is getting better, I feel it. It has to get better than this, it just has to.