Chapter 17: Falling down the rabbit hole

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We were back at the dinner table. I only ate in my room on rare occasion nowadays. My injured foot rested on a pillow on the chair beside me, the swelling had gone down a bit, but it was still hard to walk. James stood with his back against me, preparing food by the stove. He wasn't as guarding of me anymore. Probably because he figured that I wouldn't get very far with my sprain, and my crutches leaning against the wall on the other side of the table. With my injury, he had become more relaxed, more talkative and at ease. A pot of something was boiling on stove, creating a heavy flow of steam. It smelled wonderful and I was really surprised by James' cooking skills. Soon he turned towards me, sweat gleaming in his face from standing near the stove, pot in one hand and plates in the other.

"It smells good", I said as James presented the food to me. "What is it?" To my surprise James looked a little uncertain, embarrassed even. He put down the pot and scratched the back of his head.

"Tofu", he mumbled, looking away from me. "Since you don't eat meat." I stared at the pot, trying to hide my amazement. It was such a small thing, but yet so kind, thoughtful. Not at all like him. I wondered if it was a trick, some way to gain my trust, make me let down my guard that I had so carefully built up since that day by the pond.

"That's... very kind of you", I said in a low voice, looking down at my hands. James shrugged and sat down, as if it wasn't a big thing at all. I spent the rest of the dinner contemplating this gesture, the way he was acting. The Hunter hadn't shown his face since the day I tried to escape him. And oddly enough, James had only shown his best sides to me. There was still a voice inside me that reminded me of his darkness, why I was here, that he was holding me captive. That voice had however grown smaller and smaller as the days past. It was hard to remember the pain, the fear as the bruises disappeared from by body, my mind refused to recollect the first days and weeks at this place. All I could remember was the sun and the flowers, the warm light in the kitchen, the feel of the water around my feet when I sat by the pond. The kindness James had shown to me. All of that was present in my head, the rest just background noise, still hearble but easy to ignore. Maybe I was becoming delusional. Maybe I'd been drugged, living on a high, forgetting the horrible truth behind this pretty facade. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, a way to not break into a million pieces thinking about my fate. My lack of a future. The threat of death was always present in the air, hanging heavy, like a big rock on my shoulders. But I had gotten used to the weight of it, and in a way death didn't scare me anymore. Or maybe it was just denial, another way to cope with what had happened.

Dinner finished in silence, James not looking at me, acting like he was alone in the pittoresque kitchen. It was so surreal to sit like this, opposite each other at the table, sun shining in through the big windows, casting a warm shine in the kitchen and making his hair look like gold. It could've been a scene from a romantic movie, if if wasn't for the

frown on his face, the hint of harshness across his mouth, lips slightly pressed together, eyes dark and pondering. If this was another life, we could've been a happy couple, eating together in his parents summer house, enjoying the late september air, discussing if the winter would be cold this year, at least cold b California measurements. I shook the thought away. There was no other life, only this one. And in this life, James was my captor, a monster, a killer. I couldn't romanticize that away, no matter how my brain tried.

"I need to look at your sprain", James said, shattering the image in my imagination. I nodded, staying silent and shooting my plate away from me. Using the table for support I stood up, waiting for James to hand me my crutches. Taking them in my hands, I wobbled a bit, almost losing my balance. James quickly reached his hand out, ready to grab my arm, but I steadied myself, not needing his help.

"It's fine", I said and started to hop towards my room. Or the room. I tried to remember that my room was at campus, not here. This wasn't my home.

"No, this way", James said, pointing towards his bedroom and not my own. Not the other bedroom. I felt uncertain, why were we going to his bedroom? Slowly and clumsy, I followed James, wondering what he was up to. It soon became clear however that his bed was not the goal, but the bathroom connected to the bedroom. James opened the door, revealing a small and minimalistic bathroom, with a bathtub opposite the door, a small sink with a gold mirror above and a toilet next to the bath. The walls were painted baby blue like the bedroom next door, the bath, sink and toilet in white porcelain. The bathtub had gold lion paws as feet, matching the frame of the mirror. The floor made out of white tile, a fluffy rug covered most of it, warming one's feet from the cold tiles beneath. I gave James a confused look, but he only gestured for me to sit down on the toilet seat.

"You should have your ankle in cold water for a while, it might reduce the swelling that is left." With the toilet next to the bath, everything suddenly made sense and I sat down, my injured foot hovering in the air. With the bathroom having limited space, two people felt like a whole crowd, but James didn't seem to mind and quickly turned on the water in the bath, checking its temperature before turning to me and carefully removing the gauze around my ankle. I tried not to wince at the slight pain as James cradled my foot, but his fingers had a surprisingly light touch. When the water was high enough to cover my leg up to about half my calf, I started to stand up to alter my position so that I could sit comfortably. But some water from the bath had ended up on the floor and I slipped. Losing my balance I let out a scream, feeling myself fall backwards.

James tried to catch me, but the small space only made me drag him with me. We landed on the floor with a loud thud, James on top of me. My back and head hurt and my foot throbbed again, the steady rays of pain familiar to me by now. I groaned loudly, moving slightly to make sure nothing was broken. The fluffy rug had dampened the fall a bit, but it still hurt and I suspected a few bruises were forming. James' breath rushed over my face, he too letting out a groan of pain. I opened my eyes, trying to get up. But James was on top of me, unknowingly pinning me down with his weight. Looking up at him, I realized how close we were. His face only inches from mine, his eyes, bright emerald green, studying me. He was breathing hard and I could feel his chest rise and fall. Nobody looked away, our eyes locked, bodies still.

"You okay?" He said, voice low, husky. I nodded slightly, distracted my his eyes, his face so close to mine. Neither of us moved, we just stayed there, body on body, faces inches apart. Emerald meating ocean blue and forest green. I could smell him, his personal scent. It was almost intoxicating, in a good way. Being so near him made me dizzy, heart beating hard and fast - he could probably feel it. It was hard to tell though, since his face was hard, but also conflicted, his eyes flickering over my face as mine traveled over his. The strong brows, the straight nose, the stubble on his cheeks. His lips. Red and full, so close. Too close. I couldn't think straight. I should push him off me, getting up, put my foot in water and stay away. I should create distance, hate him, despise him, feel disgusted by his presence. But I didn't. Half expecting James to move away, creating space, I stayed put. He didn't move either. For a while we just lay there, close, warm bodies against each other, both breathing hard. My brain screamed at me to get away, to scream at him, punch him, kick him in the balls and dunk his head against the bathtub. To run. Escape. But my body said something else. My body wanted his proximity, to feel his strong body on mine, the sweet smell of him surrounding me, deodorant, sweat and wood. My body wanted him closer, for him to consume me. It wasn't right, it wasn't rational. But somehow I didn't care. And neither did James. Because he stopped looking conflicted, torn, and instead looked determined. His eyes on fire, burning for me. And without hesitation or doubt, he kissed me. 


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Sooo, yay or nay? Is Lia making the biggest mistake of her life, or is there something more there? Is there a side to James that Lia can lure out, a side that is stronger than the Hunter? Or is she just playing with fire? Tell me what you think.

And please, don't forget to VOTE if you liked this chapter.

Love,

Lia

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