Seth POV:
I don't know how to figure it out. I'm not sure if I can. It is becoming harder and harder with every passing second to stay conscious. I expect Dolph to leave and let me wallow in my sorrow and pity. I'm sure looking pitiful, but it is what I am.
I'm a pathetic excuse for a human being. I'm a disgusting rat who deserves nothing but the worst in life. I don't want to see him anymore, so I close my eyes and imagine Dean sitting beside me, brushing the hair out of my face and allowing me to see him.
With a smile, he lays down next to me and rolls on his side to spoon me. He grips me, holding my arms to wrap around him and pulling me closer to him. His chin on my shoulder, not saying a word, just breathing against my neck and letting me know he is here.
With that fantasy, I try to drift off slowly. But blink my eyes open when I hear a familiar voice a little farther away from me. My blurring eyes don't let me see anything other than, I guess, someone's talking to Dolph. I'm not sure if the second figure is a man too, or not, working on their gloves.
A few minutes later, he returns to me with a food bag and throws it at my face. Without opening the bag, I know what's in it because it's a familiar smell that I'm used to whenever my mom prepares blueberry pie.
I know someone is helping him imprison me in my house, but I don't know who it might be. And I don't want to doubt each member of my family who is loving me wholeheartedly. Even if it's my mom's cooking skill, I don't want to eat it. With a frustrating sigh, I close my eyes again and recall the best moment with my husband.
Even though I had dreamed of marrying Dean, I'd not fully prepared for how good it felt to be. It was amazing how one person could evoke so many emotions in me that sometimes it felt like my chest was about to explode.
"Careful, it's hot," He warned me as he took out the blueberry pie from the oven. It was his day off, and as he promised, he made a pie for me in our kitchen.
"It looks good," I said, couldn't take my eyes off the pie. The crust was golden brown, with the purple of the blueberry jam peeking between the lattice top.
He carefully placed it on the kitchen counter. "Taste it and tell me, how is it?"
"Okay." I looked at him, giving my best pleading eyes. "Can we eat it now?"
A chuckle escaped his lips as he reached out to stroke the side of my face with his finger. "You're adorable, do you know that?" The look in his eyes was hypnotizing, and I only could look away when he pulled his hand back.
The pie tasted as good as it looked, something he kept reminding me about, but I didn't mind. When I was opening the refrigerator, I saw cans of beers occupied most of the space.
"Do we need this many beers?" I asked, holding the door open.
From behind my shoulder, he peered at the opened refrigerator. "Sweetheart, sometimes friends will come over and drink a lot. Don't you like beer?"
I closed the door and turned around to face him. "No. It's bitter," I said matter-of-factly.
"That's why it's good," He replied with a shrug.
How could it be? I looked at him with a frown. "How is it good when it's bitter?"
Once again, he laughed, then his face softened when the laughter faded. He lifted his hand and placed it on my cheek, slowly leaning forward. "I've never seen anyone like you," He said, his voice getting tough.
"You said that before," I murmured and tried to keep my breathing steady, but it was not a simple thing to do. My heart was beating really fast, as though it might jump out of my chest. My husband's hand was firmly holding me in place, although it was not necessary. I didn't think of going anywhere.
The moment his lips touched mine, I felt a million sensations in my body. Some warmth flooded through me, making my skin tingle, craving to be affected. A moan escaped from my lips when he gently nibbled my bottom lip. All the sensations made me lightheaded.
I knew what was going to happen next. Dean wanted me as much as the other way around, but I didn't know if I was ready. Putting my hand on his chest, I breathed hard as I pulled away. He opened his eyes and looked down at me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean-" I started, but he cut me off with another kiss.
"No, don't be. I got carried away again." He smiled apologetically. "I thought you wanted me."
I shook my head. "No, I do want you. But I-" I paused, not quite sure what to say. That was it. He would think I was weird. I didn't expect him to lean forward and give me a chaste kiss on the lips this time.
"It's all right, sweetheart," He said, stroking my jawline with his fingers. "We'll take it slow."
"Is it really okay?" I asked, glancing at him nervously.
He merely smiled, "Of course." He pulled me against his chest and held me tighter against him, trying to comfort me.
Even though I'm starving, my heart is fulfilled now, with my husband's comforting smile in my mind. With a small smile, I curl around in a corner and drift off to sleep, hoping I'll be waking up with Dean's face the next time.