introspective isolation! ;tanner fic;

two

Sounds… sounds of tapping. 

And stepping? Light stepping. 

Regaining consciousness, your eyes registered light from under your lids before you opened them, and when you did, you were immediately blinded. 

You moaned at the pain and squinting, trying to bring your hand up to cover your eyes before realizing you couldn't. Your arms were bound to the back of a chair along with your torso, and your feet were also bound by the ankles, although not to the chair.  

Realization struck you as memories from before you were drugged began to fill your mind. The man from before was in front of you also sitting in a chair, one foot tapping on the floorboards while his fingers tapped the armrest. He smiled at you, his small eyes squinting as he did, and you were confused by its sincerity. 

You went to speak just to be muffled by grey duck tape. 

"Sorry, I-uh couldn't take the chance of you screaming."

You glared at him and he chuckled. You began looking around in the room you were in and- 

Wait a second-

Boxes and other unused objects littered the wood planked room, and an orange rolled up carpet you used to have in your room rested against the far wall, the telltale circular window high above it. 

This was the attic. 

Your attic.

The man in front of you gave you time to assess your situation while he rested his chin on his palm, his eyes looking at you as if lovingly. 

You looked down at what you were wearing, and it was one of your mother's old lady nightgowns, one of the pastel ones with the ruffles at the collar. 

"You aren't cold are you?"

You glared at him again, your eyebrows scrunching together in the process. 

"I'll take that as a no." 

He sighed through his nose as he sat up again, smiling again to the point where it really started to annoy you.

He raised one of his hands and dropped it, fidgeting in his seat. 

"Sorry, I'm just, I'm excited." 

He leaned forward and you turned away, feeling him reach to put a strand of your now dry hair behind your ear and run his fingers through the rest until it flowed back to its resting place. 

You hesitantly turned to face him, your foreheads almost touching from the closeness. He was looking at you so fondly, and maybe, just maybe, if you weren't tied to a chair in your own house with tape around your mouth, you would've been flattered. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, smelling the fragrance of your body wash and conditioner. And then he opened them again, only slightly, leaning and aligning his head in a way where your noses were touching, and if it had not been for the tape around your mouth, your lips would've brushed against his.

You swallowed at the insinuations of what was to become of you, and as quiet as the sound was, it brought him out of the daze as he blinked a couple times and sat back in his seat. 

"I hope you don't mind the dress."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I think you look quite cute in it."

You hummed a response. 

"What was that?" 

You hummed again, your words muffled and unrecognizable.