His Perfect Lyra

Lyra's POV 

I was sent back to sit in the corner while he cleaned the room I'd made a mess of.

He cleared away the half-eaten food I left on the table, wiped the surface, then the chair. After a moment, he left and returned with a new bedsheet—plain white this time. 

Just solid, empty white.

He fixed the bed, smoothing the edges carefully, then swept and mopped the floor. By the time he was done, everything looked spotless again. 

Back to how it was supposed to be.

He glanced over at me.

His eyes… still cold. Maybe a little less harsh, but never warm.

Slowly, he walked up to me and spoke in that same frozen voice.

"I'll remove part of the chain so you can shower and change your clothes. But the metal around your ankle stays. Don't try anything."

I nodded quietly. He unlocked part of the chain, and I went to shower.

While I stood under the water, I heard the door open and close. He must have left to get me clothes.

I didn't even realize how long I stood there, zoned out.

Shit…

He's probably waiting for me outside. Probably getting angrier the longer I take.

I hurried, pulling on the clothes, and stepped out.

There he was—leaning against the wall right next to the door.

"Enjoy your shower?" he asked casually. "I'm glad. Now, be a good girl."

God… he keeps giving me mini heart attacks, showing up out of nowhere.

Maybe that's how he got me the first time… caught me off-guard.

He locked the chain again, standing tall in front of me. He wasn't freakishly tall—just enough to make me feel small.

"Now, I must go somewhere," he said. "You'll wait here."

He walked toward the door, then paused, adding:

"If you're lucky, I'll see you soon."

And just like that, he was gone.

Lucky? I really hope so…

⸻

Day One.

No food. No clothes. It's fine. He's probably just messing with me. Testing me.

At least the movie is still playing.

Day Two.

Still no food. My stomach hurts like hell.

I feel like I could throw up.

At least there are two bottles of water in the fridge… but that's all.

Of course. He didn't refill it on purpose.

He wants to see me desperate.

But I'm not giving him what he wants.

The movie's still on.

Day Three.

No food.

No movie.

No Silas.

Shit. I'm starving. Maybe he really is dead?

No, he has to be alive. I'm not giving in. Not until my last breath.

Day Four.

Same thing.

Nothing but my own complaints now.

Shit.

Day Five.

Last bottle of water.

I'm curled up on the bed.

I can't even feel the hunger anymore.

My body's numb.

I stare at the wall… Thirty-five tally marks.

Then—

A sound.

The click of the door unlocking.