LOW BLOOD SUGAR STILL TASTES SWEET
Time passed like butter on a hot day. Lines blurred together under the dim candlelight, and the silence lay still as glass. There can only be so many minutes counted before a person loses track. There was no point counting meals either — they came when she was asleep and disappeared the second she looked away from them.
She didn’t know how it happened. All her life, she had suffered from insomnia. It was hard for her to sleep, but it was even harder for her to get up. “A side effect”, the doctor had said to her worried parents, “it’s natural with kids whose brains develop at a faster rate than others.”
But still, the food came and went, and so did the days.
Her little room — if she could call a five-bedroom suite with an additional luxury bathroom little — was perfect. The gorgeous 18th-century furniture was neat, luxury-grade pencil and paper lay ready for her if she ever wanted to design, and the decorations were vibrant yet pleasing to the eye. The pink silk sheets were clean and soft, and the bed was absolute heaven to lay in. It was She couldn’t ask for anything more in a room.
Anything, that is, except for it to not be a prison. She figured out on the first day she woke up in that room that it was nothing more than a glorified gilded birdcage meant to trap her. She couldn’t find any exits or entrances, and for a brief moment, she even considered that she may lose oxygen at some point. There was no possible way she could get in or out, and she couldn’t think of a way where she was even brought into the room.
“Do you like it here, my darling?” Marinette whirled around, and her body froze on instinct.
Standing in the middle of the parlor was the man she saw when her eyes closed at night. Dark, brooding, yet soft and sweet under her shining gaze. Green eyes like the mountains and skin bathed in molten sun. He cut a chiseled figure, built on lean muscle, and he moved with the grace of a ballet dancer.
Her instincts screamed at her to run.
“Dove?” His voice seemed so far away, and she realized she hadn’t answered him yet.
“Damian?” She called, not moving from her spot by the desk. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
He frowned. “Don’t you remember? We’re home. This is our home.”
He took a step forward, and she took one step back without thinking. His face hardened, jaw locked. She’d seen it so many times before, but he had never done it to her.
It isn't the first time. A small voice echoed in her ear. It doesn't end well for us if he gets angry. Placate him, before he gets mad.
Just as the thought passed through her mind, she frowned. Who was that? And why did she say this wasn't the first time?
Before she could process everything, Damian crossed the distance, trapping her within his arms. She shifted to the side, but his legs caged her in, and there was a foreboding inch between their bodies, sending her body into a frenzy in the wrong way. Her heart raced, pounding against her throat and choking her. The muscles in her legs seized, begging her to run away. Bumps on her skin rose at the sudden drop in temperature. The hair on her skin stood up, electrified by the terror of being stared down by a stronger opponent, one that could crush her in a single hand, a predator.
“Marinette, did you forget again?” His voice lowered an octave, a dangerous growl rumbling against his throat. “This is our home.”
“No...” She breathed out, fixing her gaze on the spot he was just at. When did he close the gap? Her breathing grew erratic; why was he saying that this was their home? “No, this isn’t—”
Two fingers grasped her chin and jerked her head up, and her eyes met onyx stones. Words slipped out of his mouth slowly, like he was explaining it to a child. “Darling, this is our home. You are happy here. We live together. We were about to have dinner.”
“We...” What was she thinking about again? “We were... that’s right, this is our home. How did I forget?”
“It’s alright, my dove. Maybe you need to take your pills again? The doctor said it wasn’t good for you to miss one.” He smiled, the firelight glinting on the whites of his teeth.
“You’re right, how could I forget?”
“I know, that’s why I reminded you. I’ll go get them for you, you stay right here.”
She beamed at him, sitting at the mahogany desk and picking up the pencil. “Alright, my love.”
Marinette never noticed the red spark in his eyes as he turned around.
