His Perfect Lyra

Silas's POV 

I was already awake.

The moment she took the key…

But I stayed still.

I wanted to know what she'd do.

That door won't open.

She doesn't have the code.

So it's fine.

Lyra… you're smart.

Hit me twice.

With that chair.

I never thought you'd actually do it.

You're so strong.

I love it.

That's my girl.

Unfortunately…

I'll have to fix you.

So you'll never harm me again.

I could feel the blood from my head, slowly dripping.

But it's okay.

I'm awake. But eyes closed. 

Still breathing.

Just a minor injury.

Nothing I can't handle.

Then I heard her footsteps.

She's coming back.

She must've realized about the code.

Heh…

Now what will you do next, Lyra?

Her footsteps moved closer.

Then… quieter.

Then stopped.

A loud rip.

Fabric.

She's tying me up.

Smart…

Smart move.

Ripping bed sheets just to tie me up.

I love it.

Then she walked away again.

Silence.

Then…

The sound of pages flipping.

She's looking for it.

For the code.

That's another reason I love her.

Even now—she stays calm.

Finds solutions.

That's her talent.

She's always been like that.

She searched my body.

Then left again.

Maybe she'll give up soon.

Maybe she'll keep fighting.

Either way…

I have to fix her.

My little, sweet Lyra…

She must be clean.

Healthy.

Pure.

Luckily…

It's just fabric.

Easy to untangle.

Even if it leaves a bruise—

That's fine.

I stood up slowly.

Went to the bed.

Grabbed what I needed for her.

And under my breath—

A cold whisper:

"So disappointed to do this… but you gave me no choice, Lyra."

———

I made sure she wouldn't notice me as I approached.

By the time I was behind her—

She flinched.

She knew it was me.

Both my hands rested on my hips.

I leaned in close—

Lowering my head to her ear.

Soft whisper:

"You have two choices. Go back to your room on your own…Or I drag you. Choose wisely, Lyra."

She was shaking.

Too scared to turn around.

That's what happens…

When you attack your kidnapper.

She always takes forever to decide.

Maybe I should count down.

Yes.

"3…"

She flinched again.

"2…"

Her shaking got worse.

Her body frozen—stuck between choices.

"1…"

I grinned.

She still hadn't moved.

Still hadn't answered.

I guess…

That's her choice.

I grabbed her shoulder.

Turned her around—

Then picked her up.

Throwing her over my shoulder.

That's when the screaming started.

"Wait! Put me down! Please! I'll walk! Put me down!!"

But I kept walking.

Back into the room.

She kept repeating the same words over and over—

But I'd already given her three seconds.

That was her consequence.