Mouth parched and your stomach grumbling like a monster every few seconds, two days have gone by with you still stuck in the attic. Water and food. Those were the only things on your mind. You were at your weakest — barely able to lift a limb as you continued to lay there on the ground for hours on end. Beginning to regret your decision of not accepting Rosa's request, everything was beginning to feel a little dream-like. Lifeless and floating, it was as if you had no soul left in you. A corpse left to rot in a dusty, old attic was what you were.
Most of the time spent here was on sleeping. What else could you do when you had no energy nor places to go? The dirty bandages to your feet were stinking up the place too, bothering you to the point that you almost wanted to vomit. It would not be a good move though, especially when you were already emptied of your stomach.
Squeezing your stomach at the pain erupted from being starved for too long, you let out a raspy sigh. It was actually a surprise to you that stepmother wasn't lying. You were being starved in here... if you hadn't known Blaise would -- hopefully -- save you, you would be panicking a lot more. Would she allow you to die? Was your death something she would even ruin her morals for? Though you were pretty sure she already was breaking the law enough as it was, with you locked up in here.
Just one more day, was what kept going through your mind. It was the last string of hope you desperately held onto, keeping you grounded to this world. You couldn't quit just yet, not when you were still so young.
Footsteps approached the ladder to the attic and your heart immediately spiked, anxious to see who it was. Using all your strength to turn your head to your left, you locked in with the trap door and waited. Rattling for a few moments from the other side, it then swung open. Your eyes widened when it was not stepmother -- it was him. How was this possible? You thought he wouldn't come until tomorrow. Parting your lips to question him, you couldn't even seem to speak because of how drained you were.
Blaise took you in, his face contorting into a grimace at the state of you, with you being on the brink of starvation to your horrendous feet. Scooping your frail body into his arms, he began leaving the attic and climbed down the ladder. "You're safe now," he whispered to you, looking down with gentle hues. They were the right words, for they instantly relaxed you. He was correct. This problem was officially over. No longer were you going to be stuck in the confines of this home, working your ass off only for nothing to come out of it. Stepmother's abuse towards you in the last ten years were done. Not that the rest of your life would go by in bliss, but at least this chapter was closed.
Down the stairs the two of you went and you silently furrowed your forehead in confusion. Where was everyone? How did Blaise find the key to the attic from stepmother? There were so many questions floating in your head, but you were unable to voice them.
That was it. This was the last time you were ever going to be here. Passing through the slightly ajar door, the first step he took was enlightening. The early morning sun laid there in the horizons and the world was painted in a soft pink. Cool, crisp wind brushed at your skin, refreshing you from all your worries. Glancing back at the normal-looking, two story building, you frowned at the sight of it. A hell hole hidden in a facade of a house, you were happy to never return. Most memories made at this place were terrible and would remain to scar trauma to think upon. Growing smaller by the second, the view of it disappeared when Blaise turned the corner.
Strolling down the streets, he went at a faster pace, avoiding other people who lingered around. He dodged them left and right and the houses on either side of you became a blurry image. People glanced at you as well, but at this point you could care less. Let them stare all they want -- lately that's what they've always been doing to you anyway. Once the neighborhood transitioned into the marketplace, he turned right and crossed through a deserted path. Noticing that your eyebrows rose, he shot you a smile of assurance. "We're taking a different route to my shop. We're just walking behind the buildings to enter the back door. I thought you'd appreciate it more if there were less people around. You see? We went to these woods before, do you remember?"
Your stomach fluttered at this, because it was sweet of him. And he was right. The both of you were now in the meadows behind his toyshop, where in the distance there were dense trees that made up the woods. It was quite a fun day that day... after he had graciously treated your illness. You had also faced your fears with heights that day, by climbing a tree with him.
Arriving to the shop, he took out his keys and unlocked the door. Slipping into the dark room, he set you down at a table in the corner of the space. Quickly informing you that he would be back, he headed to the other side of the shop and went into the other room... the one that you've been in the first time you came here: his office. Within a minute, he returned to you with more bandages and products on one hand and a plate of pasta on the other. Placing the food and a glass of water on the table, he nodded to you to signify that it was yours. In hungry starvation, you did not hesitate to dive into it, slurping the noodles into your mouth. The second you began eating, the better you felt.
Meanwhile, he crouched down below the table, taking a second look at your feet. Washing your feet with another towel, it stung and you nearly bit down on your tongue at the pain. He shot you another pitied look but continued to clean them up, before rewrapping them in new bandages. Dammit, you owed him so much. You weren't sure what you were going to do without him.
Once your meal was done and your feet were taken care of, the male slipped into the chair across from you. "How are you faring? Are you feeling better?"
Clearing your sore throat, you nodded. "Thank you so much. You saved me... again."
His eyes looking concerned and distressed, he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. "Tell me, what just happened? Why were you locked up in the attic, being starved to death? You scared the shit out of me when I saw you laying there," he asked hurriedly, his jaw clenching tightly. He had seen it all already, so you might as well come clean, shouldn't you? That was the least he deserved for everything you put him through. This was never expected, but he was now such a big part of your life.
You took a deep breath. It was time you tell him. And so you told him. You told him in great detail about how you have been living as a servant for the family. You described the daily aches and how you had to work at the market, earning money that could never be yours. You told him that it was the reason to why you desperately wanted to go to the ball -- why you longed so much for freedom. Then you went to explain that the ball was the final straw for the woman, leading her to lock you up.
He listened to all of this with full attention on you, never once interrupting your entire rant. But you could see his expression slowly growing angrier by the second. His flawless features twisted and his body language tensed as he balled his hands up in fists.
"They need to pay," he said simply, his lips smirking while fury simmered beneath.
You shook your head at this. "I don't want to complicate things. I want... to move on."
Blinking for a few seconds, his expression gave nothing away. After peering at you with cold, green eyes, he slowly inclined his head. "As you wish, miss," he murmured, eyelashes lowering. "Do you have anywhere to go?"
"I don't," you responded, your lips curving downward in shame and panic.
"Stay here with me."
Your eyes grew big at the sound of that. Really? He was willing to go that far to help you? Why? It seemed too good to be true. You didn't want to continue on being a burden for him... yet at the same time, you couldn't get enough of him, could you? The longer you knew him, the more he became someone you depended on.
Apparently, he had caught onto the contempt look on your face. Though it was so hard to read him, you were another story. It was sort of unfair in that manner. "I know you feel guilty, but I want to help you. No matter what, I will not allow you to end up on the streets or back to that goddamn house. I swear on it."
Tears springing from the corners of your vision, you stood up on your painful feet. Stumbling over to him, you wrapped your arms around his stiffened body. You had no words to express your gratitude, but perhaps your actions said enough. The moment was then ruined when he squeezed you back and pulled you into his lap, giving you a mischievous grin. Instantly, you grew flustered, trying to get off of him. His arms too strong, he held onto you and you couldn't escape.
"Your feet are hurting. I don't want you standing for too long," he reasoned. You scrunched up your brows in bewilderment and lightly punched him on the arm. Screw him for being a tease all the time.
Embarrassed that you were still sitting on him, you covered your face with [e/c] strands of hair. Your face warm as the sun, you chuckled at his stupid reasoning anyway. Because deep down, you knew you liked him for who he was. He was the distraction that gave you comfort.