Beauty and the Beast

Shopping

Seven days. One week. That's how long you had been here. Together with James. He followed you everywhere, you weren't even allowed to go to the toilet without him standing guard outside. But you were allowed to sleep alone in the master bedroom. Or, as you had noticed, the only bedroom. James slept downstairs and every night he would lock you inside the bedroom. But you had started suspecting that it wasn't so you would run away, but that it was for your own safety. At night you heard screams of panic and pain, sometimes things being thrown around. You noticed how they had been moved around when you could come down the morning after but you never spoke of it. Not until today. You had gotten extremely scared the night before as something had crashed into the door and you could no longer keep your fears hidden. It had come to this, you and him in the kitchen, screaming at each other until your voices became useless.

"I can't tell you! Is that so hard to understand?!" he shouted in your face, the metal fist slamming audible into the counter, the wood splitting.

"Yes! Yes it is! Every night I've heard you scream and toss around stuff! I don't have any idea about what you might be up to here, downstairs, but it scares me, James!" you shouted back, waving your arms around in frustration, your body trembling with anger.

"Well, I'm sorry but you'll have to live with it!" suddenly you were shoved backwards, a metal fist colliding with your gut, and crashed into the fridge hard. A loud horrified gasp escaped the man before you and shaking hands touched you as you sunk down to the floor. You stood on your knees and hand, one of your hand on your stomach. You coughed and gasped for air, feeling how a salty taste of iron spread in your mouth. You took deep inhales through your mouth, feeling the blood from your mouth drip down. The quiet splashing sounds of the drops colliding with the floor was the only thing audible. At least until James fell to his knees besides you and put his hands on your cheek. He trembled.

"O-Oh shit. Oh god no, I'm so sorry. I-I couldn't handle myself." He stuttered, his voice desperate for your understanding. With a hand coming to your waist he helped your and up and you could feel his gaze on your face.

"James, I want to help you. I know I can't help you with much, thanks to my blindness, but I'm not completely incapable of everything. " it surprised you how weak you sounded, as quiet as a mouse squeak. You cleared your throat and spoke again, with the confident you knew you had.

"I can help you, if you just let me. " no answer. You waited for a moment, and then another, and then another again.

"James?" you asked and said person let out a high pitched grunt.
"Oh, sorry. I nodded. I forgot you are-"

"Blind. Yeah, people doesn't realize that sometimes. " you answered with a soft smile but the quiet chuckle he always let you hear never came. Instead you felt his broad chest against your face and his strong arms around you smaller frame. He touched you. He held you more than five seconds. The gasp that escaped your lips was surprised and happy and you leaned into his touch, your own arms gripping his back, the fabric of his hoodie knotted in between your fingers.

"Thank you. " he whispered and your face shone in a smile once more. You knew what he thanked you for. You really wanted to help, and now he knew so. Hesitantly you moved back, your fingers coming to rest on his chest and he let you. Slowly, with feather light touches, your fingers traveled up his neck and to his face. As you cupped his cheek, you could feel the light touch of his eyelashes as he closed his eyes and relaxed. You strokes your fingers over his features, painting up a picture of him in your head. He was handsome, you had to admit, but it would be weird for a blind person to say that, wouldn't it?
The blissful moment ended suddenly when the pain in your stomach demanded attention. You let out a loud whimper and your head fell to hide in his neck. The ground below you disappeared as he picked you up, holding you tightly against his chest. His heart was beating fast and his breaths blowing through his nose. You were placed on the couch and James ran away. He soon came back with your shoes and a large hoodie that he helped you put on. You helped him with putting on his clothes, a black jacket, a baseball cap and leather gloves to hide his hands. He didn't need help, and he told you so, but if he helped you you wanted to help him. Yup, definitively Stockholm syndrome. You should get a prize for it.
He held your hand and his other on your waist as he helped you into the car. He got in quickly after you and started the engine and drove away. You didn't question him, as you knew that he was still your kidnapper. Even if the two of you had become closer by impossible odds. The car stopped and you got out. James grabbed your hand, you feeling the metal through the glove, and you intertwined your fingers. Your other hand grabbed hold of his forearm, making you press up against him tightly, and it calmed him. You started walking and the sound of automatic doors and a light bell told you about your surroundings. You were at a mini-mart.

"You like chocolate?" James whispered and you nodded, smiling softly. He started walking and you followed. You walked around there for a while, put things into a shopping cart and small talked. It looked like the two of you were a couple, because you could hear people around you whisper and 'aw'.
"Wait here, I'll go get some Ibuprofen. " James told you and gave your hand a light squeeze. You answered with an ' Okay. Don't get lost.' And then let go of his arm. You stood there, hearing the man walk away and you sighed. Yes, you could run, no you didn't want to. You felt... appreciated. And liked. It made your heart swell and a warmth in your chest to go bubbling through all of your veins.

"Excuse me, miss? Have you seen this man?" somebody asked besides you and you turned around. A paper and a hand met your face. You yelped and stumbled back, grabbing hold of one of the racks besides you.

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?!" the same voice asked and you waved him off.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm just blind, I couldn't see how close you were. " you answered and a faked smile came to your lips, as it always did when somebody bumped into you, or you bumped into them, and you had to explain it.

"Oh. Well, then I'm pretty sure you haven't seen the man I'm looking for." the voice said with a chuckle and a firm but gentle hand got placed on your shoulder. The man helped you to stand straight and you faced him

"Who are you looking for?" you asked, curiosity taking over as you leaned closer. The man chuckle again and you could almost hear his big smile.

"James Buchanan Barnes. He's a friend of mine. " the man answered and you nodded slowly. Something about this didn't feel right, you thought for yourself when your gut twisted as you heard the name. It's not your James he's looking for. You're just being ridiculous. No reason to worry, right?

"Who... Who are you?" you asked, more at guard now than you had been before. You felt you heart race and your breathing turning shallow with each passing second.

"Steven Rogers, ma'am."