Innocent Torture

41|easy

*unedited and um, be ready for a SHOCK of the season at the end of this chapter*

PARIS

Whispers, and mumbling. It was the voices of worry from Markus and Jackson that echoed around Paris, as she was looming from in and out of sleep.

But never fully waking up.

In her sleep she was back at that place, where she became accustomed to the cold. Her body becoming used to bruises, and the burn of open wounds on her rough skin.

When she's awake, under a warm blanket, she couldn't move. In fear that this was the dream, and she'd wake up back in that cell.

She didn't dare risk it.

The door to the bedroom opened, as Paris knew who it was. She had been awake this time, but didn't open her eyes.

Markus entered the room, watching Paris as her back rose and fell. Her long hair spread across the bed, as he felt his heart ache at the thought of this being the Paris he had to live with.

But he wouldn't give up on her. After seeing what she had gone through in that dungeon, and thinking about how horrible her life was before then, the two absolutely did not compare, but it made him pained to think that she couldn't escape the abuse.

And her pain was caused because of someone else' vengeance against another.

Markus opened the bathroom door and turned the water tap on for the tub to be filled. Paris hadn't showered in almost a week and a half because Markus wasn't strong enough to help her, and he also feared that when he went to try and get her to do so, she wouldn't respond.

But after hearing her mumble about incoherent things, he knew that she atleast was still alive.

He headed back into the bedroom, walking around the bed as his eyes never left Paris' still figure as her breaths were soft, and subtle.

He squatted in front of her then, as he got eye level with her asleep face. He'd taken many days just staring at her, and examining her features.

Trying to block out the videos he'd seen of her being tortured and abused, he tried thinking of her like this. Asleep, peacefully.

But every time he went to rest, he always had vivid images flash through his mind, and her screams echoed in his ears.

"Paris." He said, as she once again didn't even flinch at her name, and he assumed that she was asleep.

He tried reaching out to touch her then, and as his hand gently touched her cheek, he noticed how cold she was. With the blanket over her, and the sweatpants and long sleeve sweater she wore, she still was freezing cold.

He gently removed the blanket from her body and slid his arm under her waist, as she rolled into his chest.

Removing that cast was smart on his part, as he held her in his arms, despite the shooting pain he had been experiencing running through his arm.

He made his way into the bathroom, and glanced down briefly at Paris, and to his shocked surprise, she was staring right back at him.

He stopped then, not daring too move as he waited for her to blink, just Incase he was imagining this.

And then she did, and it was if she was a small child, that her blink was so innocent and pure.

Markus didn't try his voice. In fear that he'd scare her, and possibly cause this moment to turn into something that he didn't want.