Your heart hammers in your throat, pulse strong enough that you fear there will be bruises there come evening.
Well. More bruises at least. Adrian had decided to get you a collar shortly after bringing you "home" and he never listened when you told him it was too tight.
Every slam of your shoulder into the door only adds to your list of pain. The wood strains under your body weight, and you wish desperately that there was another option to escape through. Weeks of looking around the basement had been futile, though. The windows are too small and too far off the ground. The door was secured from the outside on a different keyring than the ones that keep you chained to the corner of the room. The lock on the inside is only set when Adrian is home and trying to avoid his mother.
His mother who might show up at any moment if you make enough noise. A backup plan in case you couldn't get the door open. Though, you think she's probably out shopping or meeting friends considering how long it's been since you started with no woman concerned about the escapee in her basement.
The door clicks and swings open in between thrusts, your body collapsing to the ground in a pile against cool flooring. It would feel nice if not for the sudden bolt of pain through your now bad shoulder when you landed on it.
You don't even bother to stop the scream that rips through you at the sensation.
"That sounded like it hurt." The pain is replaced with a wash of fear. Your body stills like a possum catching whiff of a predator. "Probably a dislocated shoulder, right?"
Adrian is standing above you in the stupid bus boy uniform he'd worn in his rush out the door this morning. The same rush that had enabled you to hide your keys when he dropped them in his goodbye kiss. The same one that he had complained all the way through about working a double because his boss was a dick.
But here he is, standing over your crumpled form without a whiff of grease or marinara sauce on him and eyes so dark you'd think you were a criminal he found out on the streets.
"You're-You're not at work?" The pain seeps into your words, breath hitching as you try to roll onto your back. When Adrian laughs it does nothing to soothe you.
"Pft, of course not. It's Tuesday." Right. Tuesday. The one day off he always has because he told his work his mom needed someone to go with her to the doctors office.
Hed looked so smug when he told you he secured a day of the week so that you two could always have your dates at the same time. How Cosmo had said that it was important to be consistent in your relationship.
Fuck Cosmo. And fuck him for thinking consistency would mean anything when you didn't even know what day of the week it was anymore.
The blonde is still just staring at you, appraising you. That in and of itself was a bad sign. Adrian was touchy by nature and never gently. Smashing your body to his for hugs or gripping your hand so tight it almost hurt.
"Was a test." What little warmth you had left in your body bleeds out into the carpet. Adrian couches, letting his weight fall on the balls of his feet as you look up at him in fear. His shadow covers you like a blanket, his body obscurring the light overhead. "You failed by the way which really fucking sucks because I was hoping we could just hang out tonigh-"
"A test?" The words are barely a whisper but what little levity had snuck into the man's features - even if it had been disbelief at your action and not true amusement - drops like a brick.
"Don't interrupt me. You're in enough trouble." You gulp, slow in your movement to sit up. The moment stretches on for what seems like hours. Ever breath rattles your ribs, and every inch you close between the two of you feels like approaching a bear trap.
You grab his hand and squeeze as tight as you can with your good hand, slamming your eyes shut in a silent prayer that this works.
Nothing changes. You sit in pain on the floor, eyes closed as you wait for him to hit you or yank you to your feet or go off about trust being bro-
"You are?" And there, in his voice, is a sliver of the boy who offered to walk you home that night. Awestruck and quiet underneath his skepticism as his hand squeezes back.
"I-I promise." When you open your eyes, the world is a little watery, but you focus on looking down at where the two of you are joined in what might pass as love. Adrians never been good at telling the minute differences apart, so with enough talking, hope might just slide under the radar as the same thing. "I'm so sorry, Adrian. I just want-wanted to surprise you. I was going to make us dinner."
"Well, that's a bad surprise. I eat at work." His nose crinkles in confusion. You'd thought that was cute once. Now, the way your body reacts is more desperate.
"Yeah, but I was going to make a real dinner. One with candles and flowers like it's a date." The clock gives a single tick as he tilts his head. The curls there bounce with the movement, and you wish you could move your other arm to rest in them. Adrian was easier to convince when you played with his hair.
"I just thought, since we can't go out, it'd be kinda like a date."
"We have dates all the time. We watch movies, we eat pizza, we kiss - that's all date stuff." Again, the confusion grows, and you watch the way doubt begins to gnaw at the edge of his expression. "And where would you even get the flowers?"
Time moves by again. Silence stretching as your body slumps in defeat.
"Sor-sorry. You're right it was a stupid idea." But when you go to pull your hand away, his own grip is vice like. Your eyes catch on the way his muscles flex from the force of his hold.
But your gaze is redirected when he grabs your chin and pulls your face towards him, peering at you as if solving a puzzle.
"You really just wanted to make us dinner?" Skepticism wars with want. You can hear it as much as you see it. Adrian isn't a stupid man. For all of his faults, you can at least grant him that. As smart as he is, though, he's still just a man, and you know how badly he wants you to love him. "That's why you dislocated your shoulder?"
"Of course." The whisper barely makes it past your lips before you're flxing a shaky smile onto them. "I mean, you still helped me shower when you were stabbed last week. I thought it wou-would be nice to repay you."
You don't mention that you didn't want his help at the time. Nor that you had begged to do it yourself under the guise of him not over exerting himself.
And you're glad you don't when, with the switch of a flip, loving Adrian is back. He laughs, a bright and bubbly noise that fills the hallway as he leans down to slam into you in a kiss. Your whimper gets buried under his lips and then once more under his words when he pulls away.
Man, you're the best! Im so glad I don't have to punish you. I was thinking about, like, slicing your Achilles heel, but I didn't want to risk you bleeding out. And of course, I was toying with the idea of paralyzing you from the waist down, but then you wouldn't be able to feel anything if we ever got past second base and I want you t-"
Your stomach rolls again as he tugs you to your feet and then back towards the basement by your bad arm. For once, though, you're glad for the pain. It gives you an excuse for when he turns around and sees the tears spilling over onto your cheeks.
