Page 42 of Meet Cute

Nothing.

Fuck.

Rolling over on my back, my tired eyes wander over to the clock on the wall. How the hell has it been almost half an hour already? I didn’t do anything. Did it seriously take me that long to crawl down the hall? When did I get so damn pathetic?

My arms are sore and I think my legs are shaking, but I can’t exactly lay here and wait for him to come pick me up. He’ll know something was off, which leaves me with one choice: crawl back up on the couch.

Thinking about it makes me want to give up. Every part of it hurts, and then I have to sit there and pretend everything is fine. But it’s not. Nothing is fine. Things haven’t been fine for at least a week.

Can my life ever go back to normal? Have people noticed I’m gone, now? Surely someone knows that I’m missing, right? I need that to be the case. I need someone—other than Finn—to care.

Each push forward makes me whimper like some broken animal. It’s so dehumanizing. All of this is horrible. The nickname. The legs. The fact he tried to make me wear a collar.

What am I to him?

Hoisting myself upright, I find myself in this half-sitting half-laying position against the cushions of the couch. I know that I’m close, but god, I’m so tired. I’m so tired.

When I make it back up on the couch everything feels okay, even if only temporarily. I’m back on the brown cushions watching TV as if nothing ever happened in the first place. Of course that would’ve been too simple. Too easy. Nothing is allowed to be easy.

I wonder if Finn planned all this. He seems so sweet and unassuming, but the entire situation… Surely there was some level of planning involved, since he had a fucking metal chain down there.

All things considered I should feel lucky, though. Lucky that my captor is so easily swayed, and that I get to be on a couch watching TV instead of being locked up in a dark basement with only a thin blanket to keep me warm.

Things could always be worse.

Snuggling into the cushions, I try to ignore all the thoughts swirling around my head. I’m not getting out of here, am I? No matter how many times I try to think up a new solution, they all end the same—with me being stuck here. Should I give up now? Should I accept that this is my new life?

I don’t fall asleep, not really. But when my eyes finally open again it’s dark outside. The snow rages on, and as if on cue the door slams open. Finn seems determined, setting down the groceries on the counter without so much as a “hello.”

Quietly, I peer over the catch and watch as he puts everything away. How does he go from being obsessed with me to not even sparing me a glance? Fear washes over me. Is this the part where he gets bored? Did he realize that this isn’t worth it? Is he going to kill me now?

“Finn?” My voice is small. Clearing my throat, I put on my best sweet voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He laughs weakly in response, sighing before finally looking at me. “Duncan. D-Did you really think there were no cameras here?”

Everything after is like static. The room is closing in and I can’t breathe anymore. “N-No, I… What…?”

“If you think you’re so d-damn independent, you can make your own food, and carry yourself to bed.”

Before I get a chance to argue he storms off into his room, slamming the door behind him. I’m fucked. I’m absolutely fucked. I’m hungry and scared and he knows that I can’t do any of that.

I am so, so fucked.

THIRTY-TWO

Hoisting myself up off the couch, I try my hardest to follow after him. I already exerted myself earlier, so my arms feel like jelly. I only make it about halfway through the hall before my body just can’t do it anymore.

“F-Finn!” I shout to no response. My throat feels tight, I can’t even scream anymore. Trembling, I lay there for a moment. I’ve had some serious low points in my life, but never before have I felt so damn useless. “Please, Finn…”

When my voice trails off I know that’s the end of it. My forehead hits the ground and I shut my eyes, fists tightening into balls as I’m left there. Discarded as though I was never important in the first place.

Even though I want to scream, I really don’t have the energy. When Finn is mad at me he’s clingy, but this is the opposite of that. What if I really did it this time? What if I’m not worth it anymore? Is he gonna be mad forever?

My stomach rumbles but I barely hear it over the sound of my own labored breathing. In spite of my racing heart and overactive mind, exhaustion gets the better of me and I fall asleep right there on the floor. Tired eyes open to pictures of myself plastered across a familiar ceiling.

Finn sits at the edge of the bed, staring at something in his lap. His features are illuminated by the bright blue light of my phone, which he’s scrolling through with a frown on his face.

“Finn?” I hate how quiet I am. How nervous I sound. I’m not even scared about what he’ll do, what if he’s mad at me for real this time? “You… brought me to bed?”