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Contains- prolonged captivity, reference to eds, infantilisation, very self-indulgent

“I want to go home," You repeat the words clearly as though that would be the thing to finally advocate for your release, despite the fact that they dissipate into the cold night air. He only pulls you closer. chest pressed against your back, arm over your chest, his lips against your ear.

“I know, sweet girl, I know you do,” he's taken to indulging you in this state. The two of you are more asleep than awake. In the low light of the bedroom, he can pretend that you do want him almost as much as he wants you. “You know I can't let you go? Where would you even be without me to mind you?” He scooches up closer to you until his body half covers yours. “Where would I be without you? I don't even know. I would be such a mess if I didn't have you to look after. You give me purpose in this life.”

“I shouldn't be your reason for living. Your substitute angel, you put me on a pedestal, knowing I can't fit on it. I'm going to fall off eventually, and you're going to hate me when it happens." It's suffocating the way he clings to you. You never get to be unrestricted, whether it's the padded dog crate in the corner or the chain on the headboard. He always has you where he knows you're safe and sound.

“I know, I know,” he smiles, nuzzling into you. “Silly little thing, you don't know how perfect I see you? It doesn't matter what you do; nothing will ever change the fact that I love you.”

“I want to go home” You turn to face him, tears sparkling their way down your trembling cheeks. “I want to go home and sleep alone in my own bed. I want to not spend my days caged up with blankets and plushies like a baby in a playpen. I want to drink until I'm sick and stupid and eat until I-” he presses his lips against yours, shutting off your spiral before you utter another “and”.

“It's for the best, you could barely look after yourself back then. Don't you even think that I knew all about it? About those bad habits you couldn't help indulging in? Tell me truthfully that you don't miss the taste of your fingers?” He waits for any sign before humming in a gentle disappointment. “You can't even pretend to be better than that, can't you?” He pulls back to look down at you with a smile so soft it cuts into your skin. “You're doing better with it now, but I can't let all our progress be wasted. I wouldn't be a good partner if I let you self-destruct. Clearly, I couldn't trust you alone anymore. I had to step in. You'll understand eventually that this is for the best. ”

“Fuck off,” You mumble, sniffling into his chest. There's no anger behind the words, only your own resignation “You don't get to use that against me. You're not playing fair.” Of course, he's right. Right in that sharp way, he watches you during meals, watches you closer after it, holding your hand while you focus on the locked toilet door and the heaviness within you begging for relief. The way he smiles and puts a sticker on that stupid fucking chart. A happy face for finishing all your meals, including dessert, without any hysterics, and a frowny face for the hysterics. for not finishing the plate. for when you find a way to get what you want despite the locked bathroom doors. There tend to be more frowny-faced stickers than smiley, but he's working on it. Taking what wins he can with those firm, unyielding hands.

“I'm not trying to, but I know you.” His hand trails upwards to cup your face, thumbing your wet cheek. “I know the ways you made everyone around you think you were handling it all so very well. But you were crumbling under it all, weren't you? And you were being so very mean to yourself, I had to intervene before you broke yourself to bits.” You feel the familiar burn of bile threatening to rise once more

“You should have let me.” He offers your response, no acknowledgement, just holding you against his heart as though that's the only thing keeping it functioning.

"Don't be dumb."

The ones who plead with you as you hide behind a locked bathroom door, begging for you to please let them back in. The ones that make you your favourite foods over and over until they can cook it perfectly, hiding all the burnt mistakes inside the bins. The ones who come home every day with gifts in and because they missed you so much during their eight-hour shift. 

The ones who hold you so sweetly every night, hoping one day you'll aclimitise enough or become so touch starved that you eventually reciprocate their hugs. Maybe one day those hugs can evolve into more, into bare skin against bed sheets and breathlessness, but for now you allowing yourself to be held is a luxury they hold deeply against their hearts every night. Its progress from at first, when you first woke up in a home that wasn't yours, kept in a guest room until you were settled enough to move into the master bedroom. 

Everything was taken at your pace, he is patient, and he wanted so hard to prove how patient he can be, thinking of you, knowing just how much he cares for you than perhaps you can stop being so terrified of him. Don't you know, sweet thing, that he would sooner burn off his own hands than ever lay them on you in anger? That he'd sooner cut off his tongue and feed it to himself before yelling at you or calling you something he would never dare say before his mother? How mother raised him right after all, raised him to be gentle and kind, he could never disgrace her memory and how hard she worked for his sake to ever harm you. He begs you to understand that no matter what you do, he would never dare to hurt you. He sits you down one night and makes a promise on his mother's well-kept grave that if he ever were to lay a finger on you in violence, then he will unlock the door and allow you to leave him. Because by the lord, he already doesn't deserve your sweetness in his life, and if he can't be grateful for you, he will not allow himself to have you. That was the first night you slept soundly beside him.

And he tries, you have to understand how hard he's trying for you, he doesn't expect you to be grateful. In fact, he expects you to hate him, to curse his name out and fight back like a cornered dog. He doesn't deserve any better than that treatment from you; he knows full well what a selfish, irredeemable man he is. How you were all set to live a beautiful life, but he stole you away from your rightful future because he could not stand that that future could never include him, as he wants to be included. Not as your friend, co-worker, or a stranger on the bus, he could never accept that role from the fates. So instead, he stole your fate from you.

💗 - DAILY REMINDER!!!!!

don’t reward yourself with food you’re not a dog

instead: reward with things that will make you hotter!!!

e.g. clothes, skincare, a cute new coffee mug, shower products, body care, makeup, haircare etcccc