A stale smell of sweat hung in the air, hovering heavily within the white bedroom. White sheets and a thin silky duvet enveloped you as they did every morning for the last few years. With a hesitant blink, your eyes opened, a gaze of hatred ever present in their irises.

It had been two years and six months since Mr. Bateman had ripped you from your life, your family. Two years and six months since he had had snatched you from that fateful holiday party and dragged your limp body through the snow to his apartment.

Patrick noticed the hateful gaze, throwing a familiar one back in your direction along with a scowl that could make beasts quake and tremble. It was terrifying, even all this time after seeing it, but you had grown slightly more accustomed to his coldness over time…And his yelling, throwing, and hitting.

A thin sheen of sweat covered the parts of his body in your line of vision; his firm chest, developed biceps and torso. He had finished the beginnings of his morning routine. “We’re going on a trip with my colleagues. Be ready by eleven.” The right side of his lip quirked up slightly with every word he spoke.

This was nothing new. You had gone on four or five trips in the time since you had been abducted by the man, places like Greece and France, even some cruise ships. In all honesty, they were enjoyable as long as you didn’t pinch at his fragile nerves…and serviced him when he would inevitably demand it. You had made fine acquaintances with his colleagues girlfriends as well, so vacations such as these were a good break from the lulling whiteness of Patrick’s apartment.

“You can pack your own suitcase.” He headed to the bathroom as he let the words hang in the air. Now that was interesting. Patrick rarely gave option for you to choose your daily wear so this was a substantial and unexpected change.

Over the years the years the man has softened partially to you in certain ways you supposed. There had to be a piece of him that wanted you—or else he wouldn’t have captured you all those years ago. There had been lapses where he pressed his lips to your forehead, or spoke sweet things in your ear… But then again, Patrick had wicked desires that were far too despicable and disgusting for the normal person to understand.