Locked in Love

Chapter 13- If You Love Something, Let It Go

Ok guys, i know i've said that this would be the last chapter but it isn't. This is the second last chapter. I apologise for it being short but i had to seperate it from the final chapter. Anyway, don't worry, this is not the final chapter. There is one more, plus an epilogue which will be uploaded together. If you've come this far, thankyou! :) xx - Bbambi

P.s - I know you get told this on like every story, but seriously, if you comment, vote, or possibly even fan, it would absoloutley make my day :) <3 enjoy

Chapter 13- If You Love Something, Let It Go

Someone was crying.

Hushed whimpers. Feeble sobs. Weeping, not wailing. Soft, broken breaths. 

My throat burned along with each faint cry. Still, it went on. The person continued to weep. Occasionally the crying faltered, replaced instead, with sniffs and tear choked coughs. 

My temples pulsed and my throat stung. I was mildly aware of the throbbing pain in my wrists, and the taut bindings, restraining my arms and tethering me to the chair.

I refused to open my eyes.

Still, the crying continued. Till it was little more than a muffled rasp. Occasionally the volume increased. But it always fell back to the same quiet sobs.

It’s you.

The small voice in the back of my head, finally spoke. 

You’re crying.

I finally made the connection between the burning in my throat and the hoarse whimpers, echoing around the room. I had been the one crying, this whole time?

I forced myself to stop blubbering, and open my eyes.

I was surprised to see that daylight was streaming through gaps in the curtains, dancing over the washed out wallpaper. The gleam was warm and golden, yet equally soft and pale.

Summer light. Morning light.

I pushed my torso against the bindings, tugging at it with my bound hands. The rope rubbed against my bruised wrists. Grazing my swollen skin and chafing the undersides of my forearms.

I groaned in frustration and pain, tipping my head back to face the ceiling. It hurt my neck to do so, which told me I had been unconscious for hours with my head lulled forward and my back contorted uncomfortably under the strength of the rope.

The glare from the fluorescent light made my eyes water, so I looked at the ground.

My throat was raw from crying. My sun baked skin, smothered with dark purple bruises. I breathed in. It was a splintered breath. Broken by fresh tears and a quivering bottom lip.

I tensed up in panic, scanning the room to make sure there wasn’t a presence that had gone unnoticed. My body relaxed. I was alone.