You're getting so tired of my horrendous attitude. Every day you come down to the basement to try and touch me, and every day it ends with me tied, bruised and bleeding, curled in the corner of my cage as far away from you as I can possibly get. It was getting old. And of course, as much as you like threatening to "throw me out" if I get too difficult, you would never do it. Half because you chose me for a reason, half because arranging to kidnap me was such a huge pain and you'd hate to go through all that trouble again. So, you switch tactics.
Like always, I'm skittering to the back of my cage the second the door opens. My eyes never leave you as you walk down the stairs, approach my cage, and unlock the door. "Come." I'm still, save for my trembles. Just like usual. And also like usual, you reach into the cage, grab me by my ankle, and yank me out onto the concrete floor. I start to squirm, thrash, bite, and you push your body weight down on top of me, pinning my arms to my chest and my back to the floor. Then: "I love you."
I freeze, wide eyes looking up at you in bewilderment. You continue, careful to keep your voice level and the eye contact between us steady. "Even though you're bad. Even though you won't even let me touch you without a fight. I still love you."
My lip begins to tremble despite myself. I'm not fighting anymore. You take a chance and bring yourself up to your hands and knees, giving me room to breathe, but other than taking a few shallow breaths I don't move any further.
"Even though you're difficult and uncooperative, I still come down here every day to feed you. Do you know why?" You wait, letting me repeat the words in my own head. Tears are welling up in my eyes. "Because I love you, and I want to love you more. But I can't, because you won't let me."
You lift your hand to touch my face, and I let you. I let you! You swallow the massive grin coming up, watering it down to a much softer smile. "Don't you want me to give you a bath? A nice, warm bath instead of a hose?"
I'm crying now, silent tears spilling down my cheeks, but yet, I nod. You press forward. "You want me to let you choose what you eat? You want to sleep upstairs?"
I nod again, audibly choking back my sobs. You run a hand over my hair, shushing me as you lean back down and press your lips to my cheek. Normally by now I'd be feral, swinging at you with nails you've long since clipped down, but I'm docile. Pliable. I'm listening.
"I need to know you can be good," you whisper in my ear, nudging into me with your nose. "Can you be good, please? So I can love you?"
"You love me no matter what?" My voice sounds so impossibly small when it's not full of venom, spitting insults and threats your way. You kiss my cheek again.
"No matter what."
For the first time since you dragged me into the basement two months ago, when you kiss me, I don't pull away.
