Page 27 of Meet Cute

He sighs longingly while admiring me like I’m a million miles away. “You can have as much time as you need. Just call for me, and I’ll be there. I’ll take care of you.”

Finn points to some shoddy little camera he obviously got from Amazon propped up on a shelf with some sports stuff, aimed directly at the bed I’m on. “Are you hungry? Or maybe you want some water?”

“No.” I ignore how hollow my stomach feels. “I want to sleep. Can I please… sleep?” He’s not listening. He’s just staring at me with a psychotic glimmer in his eyes. “Finn!”

“Sorry,” his cheeks get rosy again. I thought it was cute before, but now it’s pissing me off. “I just… you… You're so cute in my s-sweatshirt. Always so cute…”

If I had any energy left I’d swing at the piece of shit. But I don’t. My body is heavy and I can barely keep myself awake. I don’t waste another breath on him, rolling onto my side to focus on the wall.

Every second is more akin to an hour, the only sound being his breathing. Can’t he just use the camera to be a weird ass stalker and get the hell out of here?

“You aren’t…” he pauses for a moment. “You’re not being yourself, Duncan. It took… a lot of effort, and time. I-I had to pick up extra shifts, and… I did it for you, you know?”

Responding would only make things worse. Shutting my eyes, I let myself go limp and do my best to slow down my breaths. I really hope he can’t hear how hard my heart is thumping in my chest.

When he begins walking away there’s a brief moment of respite, only for the steps to return shortly after. Closer, and closer, and closer… until he delicately canvases a much thicker blanket over my “sleeping” form. Of course he doesn’t leave it at that, though. A hand finds its way to my head, thick fingers running through my bleached icy-blond hair.

“See you tomorrow, Duncan.”

TWENTY-ONE

Whatever bad dream woke me up was probably better than my current reality. It must be night outside, since it’s even darker now. Aside from the bright green LED light of his stalker camera, it’s basically pitch black.

But that’s not a bad thing.

I can’t see what I’m doing, but my grip follows the chains up to the bolt in the wall. Tugging at them does nothing, no matter how hard I try. I don’t know how long I spend pulling at them aimlessly, but they don’t budge.

This is hopeless. It’s all so hopeless. I’m never getting out of here. He’s gonna snap and kill me, and I’ll just be a statistic—assuming I get a good ending. The bad ending is being trapped here for the rest of my life.

Even if I tried some crazy shit like breaking my ankle and pulling it out, that wouldn’t help. The other one would still be stuck. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What’s the answer?

I open my mouth to try and scream, but nothing audible comes out. This is really just a nightmare where I try my absolute hardest, but nothing good happens. Do I not want it enough? Why? Why won’t it work?

“Duncan?” I was so caught up in my head I didn’t hear him come in, standing there with one of those stupid bed trays full of food. “I made you b-breakfast…”

Without waiting for a response he comes over and sits on the edge of the bed, setting the tray down between us. When he was close before my heart raced in a different way. I thought we were good. I thought we were doing that whole slow-burn thing. So why this? Why would he do this?

“Here,” he scoops up a spoonful of yogurt and brings it to my lips even though I’m not a helpless little animal. “You need to eat. You’ll feel better—”

“I don’t fucking want it!” I shout, swatting the spoon away. It lands on the floor, loudly clattering around before finally shutting up. Finn blankly stares at it, before slowly turning back to me.

Why does his hurt expression make me feel so awful? “I… I…” He goes quiet. Only after a few beats pass does he take another smaller spoon and try again. “Please, Duncan…”

Something about the pathetic color of his voice makes me crumble enough to take the stupid bite. It’s yogurt, it’s not special. But his entire face lights up when I swallow it down, and for the faintest second I’m reminded of all the other times he’s looked at me with so much pure excitement.

“What are you gonna do to me?” I ask, watching as his expression goes still. “I mean… you’ve got me all chained up here with a c-collar. Doesn’t exactly inspire… confidence.”

Finn’s head tilts. “I’m… I’m gonna take care of you, and… stuff.”

What isn’t he saying? “And stuff?”

“You know… stuff,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. Just eat.”

He tries to give me another spoonful, but this time I don’t give in so easily. I turn my head away so the spoon awkwardly hovers in front of my face. If he won’t play fair, I won’t either.

“You’re being… difficult. Why? W-What did I do wrong?” Nope. That’s not gonna work twice. He seems to realize that, too, since he pulls the spoon away and sits still for a moment. “Duncan…”

I expect another hastened apology, but instead he leans in. Finn doesn’t touch me, though. He grabs the tray and slams it down onto the floor, making a mess of food and dishes alike.