Chapter 9
691 Words
Sera’s POV:
Hours went by, maybe more.
I couldn’t tell the time because this room had no clock. I lay staring at the ceiling, pretending I wasn't trapped. I pretended my body wasn't shaking, remembering Damien's angry voice. The walls felt like they were pushing in on me.
Whoever poisoned me was still here, smiling, watching, waiting. My heart would not calm down. A soft knock made me jump. The door opened and Damien walked in, holding two boxes. He didn't speak. He just put the first box on my bed, then the second. I moved away fast when his hand came close. He saw it and paused.
Then he stepped back slowly.
I looked at the boxes. My fingers trembled as I opened the lid….. paint brushes, pencils, my sketchbooks. Everything they had taken from me.
My throat closed up. I couldn’t look at him. What could I even say? Thanks for kidnapping me and giving me my stuffs?
“They were in storage,” Damien finally said. “Luca said you fought to keep them.”
I swallowed hard. “I thought they would burn them.”
He shook his head. “I don’t destroy what matters to you.”
That sentence should not have made my chest tight… but it did.
I tried to keep my voice steady. “Why give them back now?”
Damien’s jaw tightened. He took a slow breath.
“Because you need something that reminds you of the world before this,” he said. “Something that still belongs only to you.”
Those words hurt more than the poison did.
He walked toward the door. Then he stopped.
“You need to eat again,” he said quietly. “I will have food brought here.”
“No.” The word escaped fast. My body went stiff.
He turned back. “You are scared.”
“Of your food? Yes.” I didn’t try to hide the truth.
His eyes darkened.. not with rage… but something heavy. He nodded once and left.
Minutes later, he returned, pushing a table with food. He stopped far away, like he knew coming closer would only scare me more.
“I will eat first,” he said simply.
And he did. Spoonful after spoonful, never looking away from me. Only after half the food was gone… did he push the tray closer to the bed. “I am not trying to hurt you, Sera,” he whispered. “I am trying to keep you alive.”
I waited so long he didn't even blink. He just watched. Finally, I forced myself to eat tiny, slow bites. He sat in the chair, watching every move without speaking. The quiet wasn't comfortable but it wasn't threatening.
After a while, he leaned forward slightly.
“What did you like to paint?” he asked.
That question surprised me the most.
“People,” I answered softly. “Faces that tell stories.”
His eyes stayed on mine. “You could draw me sometime.”
A chill ran down my spine. “I don’t draw monsters.”
The room suddenly froze. I regretted the word right away. But Damien didn’t shout. He didn’t look angry. He just looked sad.
“Then maybe one day,” he said, his voice barely a sound, “you’ll learn I am not one.”
We finished the meal in silence. When I finally looked up, Damien was still watching me… not like a guard watching a prisoner. More like a man terrified to lose something he had just found.
“Get some sleep,” he murmured, standing. “Your body needs to heal.”
He walked to the door and stopped with his hand on the knob.
“If you want to draw,” he added, his eyes softening, “I will make sure no one bothers you.”
The door clicked shut. And I stared at the art supplies… my past, given back by the man who ruined my present.
I didn't know if the gesture made him less scary… or more. Because monsters are not supposed to care. And yet… Damien did.
- Writer
