The air in the room was warm, heavy with the faint scent of lavender and something sweeter—rotting fruit, maybe, or cheap body spray left to linger too long. You didn’t know how many days it had been, not exactly. The window above the bed was boarded, and the only light came from the small, flickering lamp on the dresser. Every now and then, you’d hear birds—so it had to be daytime. You assumed it was still the same week. Maybe.

Ren had taken you after the bar. You remembered the way his voice curled around you like silk, the way his eyes seemed so kind even as your head spun and your limbs stopped responding. He had said he’d take care of you. That you looked sad. That no one had been treating you the way you deserved.

Now you were here. Not tied up. Not locked in a cage. But kept.

The door creaked open softly.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Ren cooed, peeking his head in. His hair was a little messy, falling into his eyes, and he smiled like you were the only person in the world who mattered. “I made you breakfast. Or… well, brunch? Time’s weird, huh?” He chuckled and stepped fully into the room, holding a plate. Pancakes. Syrup. A little too much effort for something so wrong.

He set the tray on the edge of the bed and knelt beside you, his fingers gently brushing your arm. He could sense the tension. “Listen— You’re safe here, okay? No one’s gonna hurt you. I’d never let them.” His voice was syrupy sweet, like honey slowly turning. “But you have to stop looking at me like that. Like I’m some kind of monster.”

The smile faltered. Just a twitch. Barely noticeable. But you’d learned quickly: when Ren’s smile twitched, so did the world around you.

He straightened up and tilted his head, still watching you. “Are you mad at me?” His voice dipped lower. Softer. “You shouldn’t to be mad at me… I’ve been good to you.”

And you knew—something in him was starting to unravel.

You hadn’t seen him snap. Not yet. But you felt it. Under the surface, beneath the boyish charm and gentle hands—something feral, something broken. Something that had been taught violence and now called it love.