A Duet of the Soul

Chapter 11: The Farmhouse

*Maria's POV*

I don't know how on earth I found myself in this ridiculous situation.

He's insane. Absolutely insane.

I heaved another annoyed sigh as I drummed my fingers against my crossed arms. I leaned my head against the edge of the white claw foot tub, letting my wet strawberry blonde hair air dry as it cascades over the back of it. I stared at the window and toilet ahead of me as Justin showered in the freestanding shower behind me.

The white claw foot tub sat on top of small octagonal black and white tiles. The walls were painted an eggshell white, and the trim around the room was white as well. The cabinetry and the countertops were a dull white on top of it. I sighed. This man clearly needed a lesson in colors.

He does have a rather nice singing voice though, I had to admit.

To be honest, I didn't exactly hate this, but I couldn't let him know that his stupid ideas didn't bother me much.

When he first stated we needed to shower, I about smacked him across the face. Thankfully, he meant separately, although it frustrated me that he insisted on standing outside the bathroom door. As if I could shimmy out of the second floor bathroom window! Okay, maybe the thought did cross my mind, but it's not like there was anything I could use to climb down.

But then he insisted I stay in the bathroom while he took his shower! The whole thing was ridiculous.

"Even though we agreed on our rules, I know you're planning on running the first chance you get. I'm not going to tie you up or lock you in a room. Just sit in the tub and wait for me to get out of the shower," he had said.

So, here I sit in this wonderful claw foot tub listening to him singing as he showers. If I'm going to be stuck here for a while I might as well get in a few good relaxing bubble baths soon, I couldn't help but think to myself. Though I don't intend on running immediately, I know I need to get as far away from him as soon as possible. I'm not dumb though like the girls in the horror movies. They always run too soon, causing their kidnappers to lock them away forever and beat them up. No thank you. I'll bide my time, make him start to trust me, and then when he lowers his guard enough I'll book it out the front door. He's been fairly easy to get along with so far, and I think I can trick him into thinking I actually trust him soon enough.

It's not the worst situation I could be in, but in my opinion, this isn't much different from locking me away in a room.

Though I will never admit it to him, it took everything in me to not look at him when he dropped his basketball shorts and stepped into the glass walled shower.

The water shut off, and I held my breath as I heard the glass door swing open. The sound of dripping water echoed in the brightly lit bathroom.

"Shit," I heard him mutter under his breath.

"What's your problem?" I rolled my eyes.

"Well, it's your problem too. I forgot to grab a towel from the cabinet before my shower. Two options, baby girl. Either I walk by you to grab a towel or you bring me one."

"Shit," I grumbled. I'm sure it was a total accident that he "forgot" to grab a towel. I knew this day was going to get worse. I chewed on my bottom lip while I mulled over his statement. What if I let him get the towel? He'd probably stand right in front of me to dry off and that would make quite the uncomfortable situation. If I grabbed a towel for him, I might still see him, but at least it would be quick and over with.