When I woke up, I felt something hard glued on my behind. Then, I noticed the arm wrapped protectively around my chest. A mop of white hair was nested behind my neck. The person's breathing was matching my own, slow and steady. 

Breathe in. Out. In. Out.

Oh, god. Jude was spooning me.

Sensing I had awakened, Jude yawned, not even bothering to cover his mouth. He lifted his head from behind mine and proceeded to lay a tender kiss on my cheek. “Good morning, Damian. Did you sleep well?”

“Piss off.”

I tried to squirm away, but Jude squeezed me even more tightly against him.

“Does your arm feel a little bit better now?” he ignored my comment and continued speaking in a soft voice, “I'm sorry I broke it. I realize I went too far.”

He pursed his lips and blew gently into the back of my neck. I shivered. Goosebumps began to spread all over my body. What was this feeling? Why was my heart racing so fast?  I wanted more. I needed to - 

Woah! Cease this right now! Damian, you need to control your hormones. Stop thinking like that! 

I distracted my thoughts by staring at the cast on my arm. It looked extremely expensive. Jude's apology, on the other hand, sounded extremely cheap. Ironic. 

“By the way, when you passed out yesterday, I called the best doctor to come and patch you up. I even used what little healing spells I knew to accelerate the process, and to diminish your pain. You’ll be as good as new in a couple of hours.”

Again, I tried to roll away from Jude, but that guy plainly had an iron grip

“Get off me,” I growled, exasperated.

“But I want to cuddle some more!” he whined.

“You're suffocating me. I can't breathe. Move.”

To my relief, he released his hold on me. “Fine,” he said, sounding more than a little annoyed.

I hastily wriggled out of his king-sized bed. The school uniform I’d been wearing last night had been replaced with a blue satin pajama. 

I turned back to Jude, wondering what had occurred after I passed out. I must have made quite a face because Jude giggled.

“The maids took care of you after you blacked out. Don’t worry. Nothing happened between us.”

I shuddered and opened the door. 

“Where are you going?” he called.

I dropped the best excuse humanity had ever come up with. “I need to use the washroom.”

He sighed and rolled back onto his side, pulling the velvet covers over him. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, I dashed in the opposite direction. Directly towards an exit.

I was going to get the hell out of here.

                                                             * * *

“Anyways, I was wondering, would you prefer to have your breakfast on the purple china tray or on the antique white tray?”

I gritted my teeth. Essentially, there wasn’t much an individual could do when they find themselves tied to a chair. 

After my wild run towards freedom, one of Jude’s guard had caught and dragged me back towards the house. Jude had been waiting in the kitchen, dressed in another elegant white outfit, acting as nonchalant as ever.

“The ropes are too tight,” I complained, “Can’t you loosen them a little bit?”

Jude gave me a strange look. “So that you can do something stupid again? I think not.” 

I clicked my tongue against the surface of my mouth. Darn it! Why didn't I think about the guards patrolling the house? Of course Jude didn't live alone in such a huge house. Obviously, he had informed his servants about my situation. I could have kicked myself, but well, my foot was still kind of tied to the chair's leg, so I guess that was out of the picture.

Jude sat on the chair next to mine and slid the china tray towards me.

“I prepared some food for you. Enjoy your meal.”

“I'd rather eat my Grandma's 3-day leftovers.”

He chuckled lightly. “What does that even mean?”

I narrowed my blue eyes into disgusted slits. “It looks like diarrhea.”

“It's dog food. Made with only the highest quality ingredients.”

My stomach twisted a knot. Dog food? “Are you intending on feeding me this trash?” 

“Yes. You’re my pet, remember? You ought to eat something of that sort.”

I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. Surely, he wouldn’t force me to eat this crap, right? Even for him, that would be too cruel. 

“If only to reassure you, I cast a glamour spell on it to make it look and smell like dog food. In reality, it’s only porridge. Try it. I made it myself. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Okay, so it wasn’t real dog food, but if it looked and smelled like it, then it definitely was. “No. You eat that trash instead, sicko,” I snapped.

“Hey, it’s important to eat all your meals, otherwise you won’t grow big and strong.”

“You haven’t grown much since I’ve last seen you! Maybe you should spend more time binge eating vegetables instead of concocting ways to ruin my life!”

“My, what an attitude! Perhaps, your arm is still hurting you? Do you feel ill?”

“Yeah, I’m sick and tired of seeing your stupid face!” I shouted, “You're such a little shit, Jude! I wish I'd never met you.”

He flinched. A hurt look appeared on his face. Good. 

He wanted to keep me close to him? Fine. He wanted to act as if he could fully control me and get me to obey his every command? Fine. He could do whatever he wanted, but I wasn't about to give him what he desperately starved for. What I used to give him before. 

Love. Attention. 

I knew he wouldn't hurt me as long as I didn't attack him first or try anything too crazy. The only thing I could do was sting him with words. He looked resilient, but he was super sensitive to words. Plus, I had more than enough hatred against him to air a seventy-two hour podcast, full of vocabulary that could make any sailor blush, thank you very much.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, Damian.” Was it my imagination or was that a slight shake I heard in his voice? 

I smirked, satisfied. Good for you, Jude, I thought. That's what you get for imprisoning me and threatening me left and right. 

I was about to give myself a mental pat on the back until Jude spoke. 

“Who knows what’ll happen to everyone if you keep on barking like that.” A small smile stretched across his lips, illuminating his face. 

Okay, so he wasn't going to break that easily. And he still had a huge advantage over me. 

I remained quiet, the threat hanging in thin air. Jude slid my good arm out of the chair’s ropes and placed it on the table, near the tray.

“You’re ambidextrous. One broken arm won't affect your daily performances. Go on. Eat.”

I smashed my fist on the table, sending the spoon flying away. “If I eat, I'll spit it out. I'll make sure to aim right at your face. Might improve your looks.”

“Eat your breakfast, Damian,” he ordered impatiently, “Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to feed you like a little baby.”

I scoffed. That wasn’t in his nature. Jude was trash, but he would never stoop as low as to force-feed someone who’d definitely spew all over him. Who'd completely wreck another one of his expensive designer suits.

“Good luck with that,” I said.

To my dismay, he ran two of his fingers through the disgusting goo on the plate and put it in his mouth. He turned my face towards his and kissed me on the lips. The sweet taste of porridge burned down my throat.

I gagged and tried to spit it out, but he kept his lips locked onto mine, pushing the food back into my mouth with his tongue. I was practically choking, trying to fight the urge to swallow. 

Jude was merciless. His tongue pushed mine aside, as he continued to empty his mouth's content. I could more or less swear there was much more of his spit entering my system than food. 

After a long battle of muffled gags, I gave in and swallowed, barely avoiding suffocation.

When it was over, Jude backed away, a string of - surprise, surprise! - saliva dripping down his chin. “Didn’t taste so bad, now, did it?”