You raise your head. damn, it hurts. You try to soothe the pain by adding pressure, yet, you can’t move your arms. The room you’re being held in is not silent. There’s the hum of a fridge upstairs and the ticking of a clock. There’s also breathing. It isn’t your breathing. Arms wrap around you and a chin rests on your head. „hello sweetheart…didja miss me? i know you did…i’m your boyfriend, after all~“ Does this guy think you’re dating? You feel like it’s safer to go along with his delusion.