(DAY 10/11 COMBINED (i was genuinely drunk as hell i slept through day 10))
"No, no, no—... I'm so sorry..."
Honestly, the whole night felt like a badly written porno — from the moment you saw Rainbeau walk in, you knew you were getting into... something.
But you didn't think it'd be quite like this.
At first, it was all a hangout, a late-night sleepover, just the two of you. The both of you had a substantial amount of trust in eachother, to the point you believed most of Rainbeau said.
For the longest time, your eyes were locked on his mail pouch. Or moreso the contents of it.
You knew he liked to use it as a regular bag when not delivering mail, but what really caught your eye was the sealed edge of a plastic bag poking out ever so slightly. It didn't cause any alarm, of course, but you were curious.
And so, you pressed.
"That? Don't worry, it's just painkillers..."
He'd shoot back almost instantly, tucking the plastic edge deeper into the mail pouch, ensuring it's out of sight.
A silent moment later, he'd turn back to the marble kitchen counter, where steam poured out of two hot cups.
Your fork weaved the noodles out of the small container, bit by bit, the hot contents burning your mouth just the slightest bit.
Though, you swore it had a small tingle to it, too, strangly enough.
You didn't think much of it, figuring it's just the artificial flavoring taking it's toll.
But the tingling only got worse.
As soon as it got painful, you got desperate. It was as if nothing helped.
Water, soft drinks, electrolyte-filled drinks, having Rainbeau spit in your mouth, it all did... nothing.
You're not sure why you asked for that last thing, but at least you got it. That's always something.
The ache was getting worse and worse. But somehow, Rainbeau seemed just fine. Not even concerned, strangely.
As a last, desperate resort, you lean back on the couch, before grabbing at his mail pouch, ripping the before mentioned plastic bag out.
But to your surprise, it wasnt painkillers. It was... empty.
In the moment, you didn't think much of it. You held the bag in your shaky hands, letting out an exhale that made it sound like you were about to cry.
Not once had it occured to you, that you hadn't seen him pull out the supposed painkillers at any time before.
You crumple the bag, throwing it aside and across the room, letting it hit the wall.
And not too soon after, you succumbed.
Darkness filled your senses as the couch cushioned your sudden fall. It was as if nothing was moving, your senses felt numb for once.
No more burning, no more tingling, it felt... empty. Not even the small amount of light shining onto your eyelids disturbed you.
You don't know how long it had been, but once you opened your eyes, you realize it hasn't been long at all.
You stared at the ceiling, taking in the empty, white canvas above you, before attempting to sit up.
Clang!
Something pulled on your wrist. Followed by a rather metallic sound, you take a minute to look around, to try and regain your senses.
To your left, there was nothing. To your right, you saw the couch cushions. Right above you?
You saw your wrist bound in a single handcuff, attached to thick, wooden arm of the furniture piece.
Looking down, towards your legs, there was somebody on top of you. Somebody with a long, colorful rainbow scarf.
"Uh — I'm not... doing anything...?"
Rainbeau practically forces those words out. The half undone state of your shirt proves his statement wrong in a matter of seconds, along with the way he's on top of your hips, holding you down.
Your pants appear to have been tugged on, on top of everything else.
"Ha...ha, oh gee, how'd we end up here...?"
He stutters out nervously, choosing to front innocence despite the obvious bulging in his pants.