Chapter 2 Return

• I was pleasantly surprised by my restful sleep last night. The previous week had been rather rough with very little sleep to keep me strong. Physically drained and mentally consumed by the desire to return home. I struggled to move.
• I was still in a daze, with my blurred vision casually looked around stretching and yawning attempting to strategize my next steps. Only to have my heart sink into a deep depression when my vision darted to the locker.
• I blinked repeatedly and rubbed my eyes to confirm the reality before me. Maybe it’s my imagination playing tricks on me. Why was it, not my imagination?
• Meanwhile, Paul was standing there quietly observing me trying to regain my composure. Time seemed to slow down, and a charged silence closed us in. In that fleeting moment, his gaze held mine, and I felt an unspoken connection.
• We had a stare-down.
• His intense eyes seemed to linger on me, as if searching for something deeper, stirring a mix of emotions within me. His face was visibly angry, every inch of his body giving off a warning, yet his eyes portrayed a different emotion, one that I had never seen before in him.
• I was so scared, but outwardly I was determined to pretend like I knew no fear. “Are you done?” his cold voice carried a trace of vulnerability, the uncertainty in my mind was clear as daylight.
• The question had so many meanings that I was not sure which one he was referring to, to give him any sort of an answer. If only his tone were not laced with a mixture of frustration and concern, I might have been able to think of something.
• Tears welled up rapidly in my eyes, their warmth creeping up my nose as they continued to threaten to run down. How on earth did he find me? I had been very careful to cover my tracks, I know I was not seen when I left.
• I remember thinking that this was bad, Paul's lack of forgiveness was notorious; any act of defiance meant certain death simple as that. Since he did not kill me in my sleep, it could only mean that he meant to punish me.
• But as I looked into his eyes, I caught a glimpse of sadness hidden beneath the anger. It was as if my attempt to escape had struck a chord deep within him. The weight of his unspoken sorrow hung in the air, subtly revealing a side of Paul that I had never witnessed before.
• Not a word came out of my mouth as the fear in me grew like an erupting volcano. Bringing with it an intense heatwave across my face and chest. My face began to betray me, for no matter how much I tried to stay poised, I could not stop the growing anxiety that I felt.
• It was beyond overwhelming, nothing that I had ever experienced and this man had made me experience a lot of emotions before I left.
• The urge to scream consumed me, but I couldn't shake the fear that it might provoke him and lead to my untimely death, ending my suffering once and for all. My redden eyes watched him walk closer to me.
• If ever there was a time that I had been brave in my life, this moment was not it. In my fear, I was ready to apologize and beg for Paul’s forgiveness.
• Slap!
• That was the last thing I remembered him doing before the Milky Way visited my vision. When I came to, I was lying on a bed with Paul beside me. He was shirtless, his arms were behind his head and his concentration was centred on the Chandelier across the room.
• His profile has not changed, still a very handsome man, with all the features in the right places just like a masterpiece craft.
• I quietly watched in stillness dreading what was going to happen. Let us just remember one vital point and that is I have no idea where I am and how I got to his bed. For my mental health, I decided to let it go.
• After staring at him for some time, his eyes started to get very attractive to me. For an unknown reason I was still trying to understand, my subconscious mind wanted to reach out and touch him.
• I kept darting my eyes between his ear and neck, not wanting to fall for those deceitful eyes that showed no soul. From where I was lying, it was a pretty sight, yet it was only a confession I could make to myself.
• “Are you hungry?” he asked in a deep voice, with no ruthlessness detected. There was a certain thought that he had been side-eying me the whole time because I knew that he had not turned to look at me. I had been staring at him the whole time.
• The sound of his voice made me nervous, poking at my anxiety and inviting my sweat beads back to my forehead. I mumbled yes under my breath then Paul stood up without so much as a second thought.
• I continued to watch him in amazement as he got out of bed with nothing but his briefs on. He was a sexy man in all honesty, just not for me, maybe another who could stand the sight of him, but not me.
• He put the track pants on and then turned to me, still lying on the bed, I made no effort to look away. Those ever-so-solid abs were on display when he stretched his arms to put on the vest. He promptly left after that.
• As soon as he disappeared a surge of energy bolted in me and I used my arm to support my weight. I looked around the room, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, this beautiful room was clean and bright, covered in neutral colours and great furnishings.
• I searched myself to check for foul play, but not a single thing. I felt my lower region, perhaps he had had his way with me and to my surprise, nothing seemed to have been touched. No soreness, no signs of stickiness or injury, thank goodness.
• My skin was well moisturized, inducing me to touch myself in awe. I lay back down and stared at the ceiling not knowing what to think. To my calculations I should be dead, it is the promise he made me if I ever chose to run away.
• The flood of questions in my mind became overwhelming, leaving me without a sense of direction. It was a jumble of confusion that demanded answers and I knew only Paul could provide them.
• Then Paul came back with a bowl in his hand, it was cinnamon-flavoured oatmeal. There was a lump of sugar in the middle of the middle that was trying to dissolve in the surrounding milk that teased it the way the ocean water would the beach.
• He silently sat on the bed and waited for me to sit up before he handed me the bowl. I swallowed some saliva to nourish my dry throat. “Thank you,” I mumbled.
• My eyes were glued to the warm heavy bowl and then Paul moved closer to me and took the bowl away. My heart anticipated his wrath, I was certain that he would think that I was ungrateful.
• With one look and one silent motion, I further sealed my fate, intensifying the already stifling situation as if the intensity of the situation was not serious enough. He turned to the food and with great care he started mixing the sugar into the oatmeal.
• Silently observing him, my eyes did not wane and then he tasted the food. Perhaps he thought that I assumed it was poisoned. He began to feed me and every time the spoon was raised, I obediently opened my mouth.
• He went as far as to use his thumb to wipe my lips whenever there was a little residue. In that intimate act, our eyes locked and a charged silence hung between us. I couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on my lips, a subtle yet undeniable hint of desire.
• It was as if in that moment, our connection went beyond fear and punishment, yet my fear was very real.
• With each passing brush, I found myself unravelling the layers of Paul's enigmatic personality. Have I died and gone to an alternative universe that also had a Paul look-a-like?
• “Rest. The doctor says you are weak,” his voice prompted me back to reality. He watched me lay like a paper doll before he covered me with the duvet. There was a fleeting touch that sent shivers down my spine.
• Our proximity seemed to hold an unspoken desire, one that was once openly admitted by Paul and maybe myself. My hands tightly gripped the duvet as I was still in my bra and panty at this time which had been changed, keenly aware that he knew my nakedness.
• Surely there was no need to parade it, reminding him of my curves or the size of my breasts. He didn’t deserve them.
• When I was finally comfortable, he covered my back, then stayed in that leaning position over me, his eyes searching my face for answers.
• It was as if he cared more than he wanted to admit and his actions stirred a familiar warmth within me. I could feel faint wafts of his breath on my cheek, in all this he did not seem angry.
• Sitting up to station himself on the edge of the bed with his back towards me, he placed the bowl down on the nightstand. The smell of his cigarette ran up my nose like a naughty child’s screaming.
• I had to use the duvet to cover my nose, making sure that my eyes still kept a close watch on Paul. He turned around with a giant plume of smoke rushing out of his nostrils.
• “You should sleep, you need it,” he remarked, taking another drag of the cigarette.
• “Why are you being so calm?” the nonplus confidence in me bellowing the words. Paul didn’t answer, he only glared at me with a warning look, turned around and continued smoking.
• After a while, he left.