Stockholm Syndrome? - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

I didn't fall asleep. I couldn't have closed my eyes for long before Felix decided he wanted to talk.
"How's college been?" he asked.
I opened my eyes, wondering if he'd been aware they were closed. "I'm sure you know, so why are you asking me?" I said.
His hand moved slightly along my waist. There was nothing to it; he just wanted to make his hand comfortable. I couldn't help the sensations that engulfed me. The tingling feeling was back.
"Contrary to your belief, I don't know", he said.
"You mean to say you haven't been stalking me? Hard to believe", I said rolling my eyes.
He gave a light chuckle. "I haven't been stalking you".
"So you just happened to be in the same place as me? The last time you were two states away and now you are here. I don't believe in coincidences", I said.
His hand moved again. I think I froze as electric shocks shot from his fingertips and entered my body. The sensations felt just as wonderful as they were overwhelming.
"I haven't been stalking you", he merely said. He seemed unaware of my current state.
"So you just happened to be in Berkeley?" I asked.
"You could say that", he said.
I snorted. "What about last night? I know you are a Superman-wannabe but I doubt you can sense when someone is in danger".
"Last night was a coincidence. You happened to be at the same place as me", he said.
"What happened to the guy?" I asked, remembering what he'd told me. I still had no recollection of what happened after leaving with the guy.
"He's probably on a hospital bed", he said casually. "He's lucky to be alive".
I raised my head to look at him quickly.
"Don't give me that look. He's alive. As much as I wanted to kill that piece of trash, he was alive when we left. The thought of him..." he said and went silent. His breathing rate had increased. "I wanted to kill him", he said quietly.
"I'm glad you didn't", I said.
"You are so naïve", he said shaking his head.
I resumed lying on his chest. "Killing him wouldn't have solved anything, it would have just made you a murderer", I said quietly.
"What if he'd raped you? Would that change your stance on the matter?" he asked.
"No. I'd want him punished, not dead", I said.
"And what if you couldn't prove he did it and he got to do it over and over again to other people?"
"I don't know", I admitted. I could see his point and I could see mine.
There was some silence.
"Let's agree to disagree on this one. But if anyone hurts you I'm going to hurt them back. I can compromise on not killing them, but that's the only thing I'm willing to do", he said.
If anyone hurts you...
I looked up at him and he gave a small smile. "That would be described as being overprotective", I said with a grin.
He tightened his arm around me. "In my world, that's caring".
"Is there anything you don't do in extremes?" I asked.
"Well...there's a few. I can be gentle", he said giving me a teasing smile.
I blushed scarlet. My brain was fixated on the idea that his words implied something naughty. I couldn't shake that idea off.
I coughed. "Um...so...what happened to your boyfriend?"
"What boyfriend?" he asked dryly.
"The guy who called you? The one who sounds like a girl?" I said.
"I have no idea who you are talking about", he said.
"Ricky?" I said.
"You remember his name?" he said, almost triumphantly.
"I have a good memory", I shrugged. "So what happened with him?"
"He's not my boyfriend. He never was", he said.
"Oh", I said. "He mentioned... Um never mind", I said. Something stabbed at an organ in my body. Felix didn't have a boyfriend; he just had one-night stands or toys or whatever he wanted to call them. I knew I felt more strongly about that more than I felt about him having a boyfriend.
He sighed loudly. "Ricky is a male-prostitute".
Awesome. Better than a one-night stand. I almost gasped but contained my shock. "It's your business; you don't have to explain to me".
"If you say so", he said.
"I do!" I said, a little aggressively than I intended.
"You sound..." he said and I cut in.
"I sound nothing. I'm hungry", I said.
"Hmm. So hunger makes you snappy?" he asked. There was mirth in his voice.
"Yes", I retorted.
"In that case I better make you food", he said pushing me slightly and getting off the couch. I missed his presence immediately. "So um...with your condition you can't eat much. No spices, milk and fatty food; so fish and veggies, is that okay?"
"Did you catch the fish?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He smiled. "I may have", he said smirking before he walked into the kitchen.
I made myself comfortable on the couch. Now that Felix wasn't there I was feeling colder. I wrapped myself with the blanket and raised the cushions to elevate my head a little bit. I could see Felix moving around in the kitchen. I watched him for a while.
I wasn't too sick to move around. Going to my apartment would be the right thing to do at that moment, but a part of me didn't want to leave. For once in months I wasn't going about my existence passively.
"I hope you do know how to cook all of that!" I shouted to the man moving his body lazily in the kitchen.
He turned slightly. "Boiling stuff isn't hard. Your diet is bland from now on until you are okay".
"So bottomline I'm going to hate it?" I said.
"Yep", he said. I sensed some sadistic hidden chuckle.
When he turned fully he was holding a bowl in his hand. He produced a spoon from a drawer and walked towards me.
I frowned, sitting up. "I figured you were a bad cook, but now I'm thinking you are beyond terrible. No one can boil anything that quick".
"I'm terrible, but I can make instant oatmeal", he said as he neared me. "I thought you could eat something in the meantime, and yes, it's bland. I need to know if you can tolerate food".
He moved me slightly so he could sit near my head.
"Besides being snappy, how do you feel?"
"Hungry!" I said moving my hands towards the bowl.
He moved it away. "It's hot".
I rolled my eyes as he stirred the oatmeal. I could see a little bit of steam leaving the bowl. "Now it's warm. Open up", he said.
"Are you serious?" I said.
He nodded. His face displayed a serious expression. Was he seriously thinking of babying me? Sure I felt weak, but I wasn't on my deathbed.
"I can use my hands", I said.
"And I would rather you didn't spill oatmeal on yourself, now open up", he commanded.
"Fine", I said, to which he gave me a fake grin. It was unusual for me giving up that much control, but I was too weak and hungry to keep protesting.
The oatmeal was bland like he said. He'd added nothing. I didn't like the taste, but I liked having something in my stomach. I kind of liked having Felix feed me, but I wasn't going to tell him that. He was patient, gentle and looked concerned. He seemed to be enjoying it.
Sure he'd held me in his arms when I was shivering up a storm, but feeding me took our relationship to another level. There was just something in the way he did it that made it incomparable to nurses feeding sick people.
When I was done he scraped the bowl and licked the spoon. He just looked sexy when he did that, a word I never thought I'd use to describe Felix. I watched as his sultry lips curled around the spoon and his tongue moved along it. His movements were slow and deliberate. I'd never seen someone lick a spoon that seductively.
I felt heat on my cheeks and just knew I had turned red.
"Do you feel hot?" he asked as he placed the spoon in the bowl, turning his eyes to me. It was as if he had a sixth-sense.
"Uh...yeah. The oatmeal was warm", I said.
He bit his lip. "Other than that, is there anything else? Nausea?"
I almost sighed in relief. I thought 'anything else' meant he knew I was blushing and had a clue why.
"No. I feel good actually", I replied.
"Great", he said standing up and walking to the kitchen. "So other than hunger, what makes you snappy?" he asked loudly. His question sounded like he was implying something, like the subject of our conversation before I snapped at him.
"Off the top of my head? Being blamed for something I didn't do, lies, slow loading screens, slow Wi-Fi – seriously, stubbing my toe, automatic computer updates, assholes, when my earphone gets caught on something, noisy eaters, when random people touch me and people who debate with emotions – those are the things that make me fly into a murderous rage", I said.
Felix was laughing so hard at some point he sounded like he was coughing. I chuckled too. It was nice hearing him laugh.
"I'll make sure not to do any of those things", he said when he could control his laughter.
"So, what makes you snappy?" I asked as I settled back on the couch. I could only see a bit of him now.
"I'm afraid my list is not as interesting as yours. Murderers, stupid politicians, people who hurt the people I love. Actually I don't get snappy, I get angry", he replied.
...the people I love. That got me curious to know who it was that he loved. I didn't want to ask straightaway, though I was itching to know.
"Murderers, no surprise there. But there must be something that annoys you", I said.
"Well, I hate surprises. And people who come way too close to me. It takes a lot not to shove them. Traffic, I enjoy speed. I cannot move slowly, it just makes me want to grab something and toss it over and clear all the freaking traffic. I hate everything that's on TV, fairytales and clingy people", he said.
...Clingy people.
"Now I know what not to do", I said half-heartedly.
There was a bit of comfortable silence. I was thinking of his last words.
"So what makes you happy?" he asked. I could smell the food being cooked from the kitchen.
I shrugged as if he could see me. "I love soccer, so that; my friends; not being terrible at schoolwork; my family; photography, just snapping beautiful scenes – I have a love for nature...that's it", I replied. "So what about you?"
The silence was longer this time.
"Nothing", his answer was curt. After that long silence all he could come up with was 'nothing'?
"Seriously?" I asked in disbelief.
He turned to me. "I like art", he said and shrugged. "I wouldn't say it makes me happy. As for the other thing I did, I got satisfaction, not happiness".
I knew he would hate it, but I felt sorry for him. Satisfaction was okay, but happiness was on another level. For him not to experience it was just sad. He didn't know how it felt to have that wonderful feeling soak into your bones, to smile and feel like your cheeks would burst.
"There has to be something", I said. It was almost a desperate plea.
He shook his head and turned back towards the stove.
"W-What about before... um...before your mom passed away?" I asked tentatively.
Silence.
"How's the food coming...?" I tried changing the subject and was interrupted by his clear voice.
"I was young. Riding my bicycle made me happy. Seeing mom happy made me happy. When I was 9 she bought me a car racing game. I spent hours on that thing. By day 2 I was certain I wanted to be a race car driver. The game made me happy", he said. I couldn't see him properly, but I could swear there was a smile on his face.
"That sounds beautiful. I can see you obsessing over a game", I said.
"Yeah well, that's the past", he said turning back. His voice which had been alive was just dead.
I felt like he'd left me with a question mark, but I didn't want to prod. It was obvious his mom's death had affected him greatly. It was clear also that it was not something he wanted to talk about. The last time we'd talked he'd blamed her for leaving him.
We didn't talk for a while. I didn't know what to say, yet I knew I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his thoughts, hear about him.
"Just out of curiosity, how do you get all these medicine that you have?" I asked, hoping he'd recovered from our earlier topic.
"I steal it", he answered.
"If that didn't save me I would be telling you off right now", I said.
He chuckled. "I buy it, off the record. I don't have an entire supply of medicine if that's what you are thinking, just essentials".
"And Fluza...whatever is essential?"
"It's an antidote, of course it's essential. Sometimes mistakes happen and I overdose", he said.
"You take drugs?!" I said. The disapproval wasn't held back.
"Not me, other people. I dose other people and sometimes it's possible to overdose. If that's not the selected method of getting rid of them, antidoting is necessary. Unless they take drugs, benzos in their system would be suspicious", he offered an explanation.
"I think you should stop right there before you tell me how you killed all those people. I don't want to know", I said.
"Ok", he said quietly. "Archer, I know you don't approve..." he said and I cut in.
"It's not that. I just...I don't want to be imagining dead people. They were bad, I know. I guess I'm not as brave as you", I said.
He sighed. I couldn't tell if it was relief or despair.
"Why'd you let me go?" he asked.
He'd asked one of two questions I couldn't answer. I'd asked myself that question, I still couldn't answer it. What I did defied rationality. Felix was guilty, yet I couldn't find it in myself to give him up to the police. He was my kidnapper; there was no doubt about his guilt in the eyes of the law. In my eyes it wasn't so simple. There was just a muddle of feelings and irrational behavior.
I'd always thought I knew what was right and what was wrong. I'd always thought I stood for what was right. I wasn't so sure anymore. There was something bigger than "right", something stronger.
"I don't know", I said softly.
"You've never wondered why?" he asked.
"Maybe because I believe you are a good person", I said truthfully. I had thought about that part. I truly believed he was a good person. "Deep down...like really deep down", I added for comical effect.
He chuckled like I hoped he would. "You don't know me", he said.
"I know that you hate surprises, people who come way too close to you, traffic, everything on TV, fairytales and clingy people", I said smiling. "But seriously, you kill murderers. You are screwed up but a good person nonetheless".
He returned to the living area and sat where he'd been sitting previously.
"Thanks", he said.
"For what?"
"I don't know. For what you said I guess", he said.
I gave him a small smile. "So is the food ready?"
"Yeah. We could eat later, you just ate", he said.
"Did I mention I love food?" I said.
He smiled. "Well, you have an inflamed stomach. If you get full it will be very unpleasant", he said.
"Since you won't give me food, can you at least lie with me? I'm starting to feel cold and the pain is coming back", I said. The gnawing sensation was creeping under my left rib.
He didn't say anything but did as I requested. I loved the warmth his body instantly provided. I snuggled closer, pulling the blanket to my neck.
"Wake me up when I can eat", I said.
"How about when I need to go to the bathroom?" he said.
"Hold it", I ordered.
He ran a hand through my hair. "Yes, sir".
I grinned secretively and closed my eyes.
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