Work Text:
After a hard day of work, all you want is to relax. It was your only plan for the night. Unlocking your apartment door and slipping inside. Flicking on the lights as you kick off your heels, instant relief. Feet flat on the cold ground.
Slipping on your slippers. Your eyes catch something colourful. An innocent bouquet on the counter. A mix of roses, carnations and alstroemeria. A kaleidoscope of pinks. It's a pretty bouquet. Still a shiver rolls up your spine. Because it wasn't there this morning.
“Do you like them?” A hoarse whisper asks from behind you. How did you not notice him till now?
His presences suffocating as he steps closer. Pale hands crawling on your shoulders. Travelling down, his hands sinking into the lapels of your coat. His knuckles brushing against your breasts. Before he helps your arms out of the coat, surprisingly gentle. After you escaped him. You expected anger. Not this eerie calmness.
Dread squirming like a thousand millipedes in your guts. This calmness was so much worse. A thousand legs crawling up your throat, choking you.
“You didn't answer me.” Your mind circles, question already forgotten. Too worried about not throwing up. But you know the consequences if you don't answer. Tears filling your eyes as you try to remember the question. Panic suffocating.
He steps closer. Firm chest against your back. Calloused hands rubbing up and down your arms. A comforting gesture, that's anything but. Shushing you, “it's okay, baby, I forgive you.” He whispers. His chin resting on the top of your head. “I forgive you for everything. So let's leave the past in the past.” He hums.
“I'm so happy you agree.” He says, even though you didn't. Leading your pliant body to your table. One of his hands pulling out a chair. The other remaining on your lower back. A river of tears flowing down your cheeks. He guides you to sit, pushing the chair in. Trapping you against the table.
Your hands clenching at your dress. So tight that your knuckles turn white. Tears dripping down your cheeks. Splashing onto the table.
Your breaths becoming shallower. Akin to little gasps. That you can't control. Your ribs closing in, crushing you. Lungs begging for air. Your blurry vision blackening around the edges. Mind swirling out of your grasp. Panic taking over.
“Oh sweetie, drink this.” A distorted voice says. Echoing in your ears. Though you hardly register the words. Finally noticing the water in your mouth, cold and shocking. Coughing as it trickles down your dry throat. Taking another moment to register the glass pressed to your lips. A hand tilting your head back slightly. Hand gently gliding through your hair.
“Such a good girl." Ringing in your ears as you notice the weird aftertaste. Bitter and vaguely salty, it tastes wrong. You try to pull away. But his hand holds you firm as the glass empties. You think about spitting it out. But he's quicker, taking the glass away and keeping your jaw shut.
“Shh, shh.” He coos, soft, comforting. Even though it does the exact opposite. Your struggling grows weaker. Limbs heavier. Still trying to pull away. But he's so much stronger than you. Numbness prickling at your nerves. “I was hoping we could have a nice dinner before all this. But you just had to go and be difficult.” He sighs mournfully in your ear. Before kissing your tear stained cheek. Your consciousness slips away. Leaving you vulnerable and in his grasp once again.