“Hey!” Delia shouts through the wall.

He doesn’t respond. She’ll just have to shield her eyes, she’ll get claustrophobic if she stays in this tiny bathroom much longer.

She opens the door, peering outside to see if it was safe to leave. She jumps when she sees Theo’s frame blocking the view.

“Can you move? I really need to pee.”

Delia exits the bathroom, allowing Theo to move past her. But if he wasn’t in the bath—then what did she hear?

“My hands were sticky and I had to wash them—since there’s no soap I had to keep the faucet running until my hands were spotless. I can’t use my sweater as a napkin. I’m shocked to see you used your dress as a washcloth.” Theo points to the mascara stains on her dress. “Next time don’t take forever, it’s not just you who’s stuck here.”

“I wanted to wash my face, what’s so wrong with that? Besides, don’t you have to pee?”

“I do, but you were just staring at the tub. I thought I’d tell you what I was using it for.” Theo closes the door, leaving Delia to leer at it. With him gone, the room seems emptier…scarier even.

The scariest part is, without his presence, she has time to think…

“Bed’s yours, as we agreed upon before this mess.” Theo leaves the bathroom, gesturing to the mattress she’s sitting on.

“It’s fine if you keep to your side. It’s big enough for both of us.”

Theo’s expression relaxes in relief. “If you’re sure. I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the carpet.”

Delia grunts, feeling irritated that she’d have to sleep fully dressed. There weren’t any blankets or pillows either. She’d just have to make do with making her arms her new pillow. God knows it’s past midnight already—she better close her eyes.

Delia jumps when she hears the sound of a belt unfasten, followed by an unzipping noise. Her throat parches—he couldn’t—be undressing behind her…could he? She looks, his bare sculpted back presenting itself for all to see, his black boxer briefs sculpting his rear magnificently.

“Why are you undressing?!” Delia stammers.

“I can’t sleep with jeans on. Also, my turtleneck is warm, I’ll sweat to death if I keep it on all night.”

“B-but you're only wearing your…b-boxers—”

“Don’t tell me you've never seen a man like this.” Delia can feel both Theo’s disapproval and annoyance through his words.

“I have…but this is…this is different! There are no blankets to cover us!” She knew he was toned, but holy hell, he's hot. “It’s fine, just stay like that. I’ll just keep my eyes over here.”

“Are you done being weird? I’d like to sleep now.” The shrug of his tone is obvious. The weight of the mattress shift as he lies down, also favouring his side. Good, that way Theo couldn’t see Delia's crimson-stained cheeks. She would have to find some way to sleep. Or, pick anxiety…but there is a comfort in knowing that Theo was right beside her. She believed his words when he said he would protect her. It brings her enough comfort that she is able to close her eyes for a minute.

And…she's awake again.

The boning of her dress digs into her waist, and the thick material makes it hard to lie down in—not to mention how her tights were pinching her sides. But she didn’t have the confidence Theo did—there’s no way she could strip down to her bra and panties so easily. Not without a blanket to cover her.

“Not so easy, is it?” Theo says with amusement. He’s still awake?! “You want my sweater? It’ll be better than that outfit you are wearing.”

“I’m good.” She says, but the call to sleep was strong. She yearned to get comfortable.

“Suit yourself.” She feels the weight of the mattress shift again.

Delia tries to fall asleep once more. She guesses that an hour goes by before her body screams at her to sleep.

It fails.

God damn it…

Theo couldn’t still be awake…could he? Maybe she should sneak over and grab his sweater, but she has to be quiet or she’ll wake him. She tiptoes to his side of the bed, grabbing it before she scurries to the bathroom. With great relief she throws off her dress, the red markings show their wear by the indents they made on her skin. She would leave her undergarments on. Delia picks up Theo’s sweater off of the countertop as she stares at it. It'd fit her but…did she really want to wear it? Delia sighs as she resigns, pulling the sweater over her head. To her surprise, the neck was rather loose, despite making her already curly hair filled with a static charge. Her hair had no hope in a place like this. She stares in the mirror, the sweater's length reaching to her mid-thigh area. It looked like an oversized dress, even hiding her boobs quite nicely.

That's a relief.

She exits the bathroom, feeling less stressed now that she was in comfortable clothing. She lies down on her side of the bed, closing her eyes to sleep.

“Wake up.” Delia’s shaken by a shirtless Theo. She jumps up, startled by his presence before her memories come rushing back to her. Right. She was a prisoner in some hotel for as long as her kidnappers felt like it.

“Sorry, I decided to take your sweater after all.” The soft warm cotton fabric lured her to sleep, and apparently, knocked her out cold. This turtleneck had to be enchanted…

“It’s fine,” Theo says, his cheeks are redder than she remembers. “I-uh-will be needing it back. I’m cold and…yeah.”

“I get it.” His blush is contagious. Was he one of those guys who liked it when girls wore his clothes or something? How many other women wore this very sweater? Suddenly the appeal of the garment has worn off. “I’ll get dressed and you can have this back—"

Theo grabs her wrist before she stands—the door sounds like it’s being kicked by the heel of someone’s boot. Delia didn’t understand the need for that—don’t their captors have a key?

“Stay behind me,” Theo says with urgency. Delia does as she’s told, doing her best to stay calm. Her stomach churns as the door open, three men enter the room. Their black cladded outfits give her the clue that these are the same men from last night.

“What the hell do you want?” Theo says heatedly.

“It seems the two of you got well acquainted in the night hours—which will make this easier. Don’t fear, I’ve only intruded just to talk—and talk only.” The man takes off his hood. Delia did not expect to see a round face attached to his large frame. He waves his companions away. “It’s two against one if you decide to attack—should put both you and the lady at ease, eh?”

“Delia stays with me.”

“I never said she had to go. In fact, I need the two of you together to pull off this heist—”

“—What do you want with us?!” Delia shouts.

“If you’d let me explain.” His calm voice irks her. “I need the two of you to get married ahead of schedule—you know,” He stares at Delia, “To siphon the funds coming your way, because, what good is a hostage if her family’s got no money? But the Avangards have plenty of gold to spare—right Theodore?”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I promise that this isn’t mockery. You and the miss here are going to elope, and then you’ll ask your feeble old grandpa to buy you a private island. You know, to spend the rest of your days in a honeymoon paradise—or however you want to phrase it, You don’t have to use my words, just make them your own, yeah?”

“I’m to run Grandfather’s empire when he passes—I can’t ask him to buy an island in the middle of nowhere. He’d say no.”

The man’s tone deepens as it becomes less coy, his deep green eyes lock on Delia. “It doesn’t matter right now; you have plenty of time to come up with a believable story. He pulls a shiny revolver from his sleeve. Delia’s nauseous. She’s never seen someone hold a gun in person before.

“Put that away.” Theo roars. Before he has a chance to move, the man moves behind Theo, yanking Delia from his grasp, withdrawing the gun to her temple. This can’t be real. This has to be a dream! Delia lets out a scream, but it only seems to make him pleased.

“Don’t try anything or I’ll blow her brains out.” The man warns as he digs the metal tip into her skull. A sharp pain ricochets through Delia's head, causing her to whimper.

“Cordelia…I have an important talk to ask of you. I want you to call your grandmother to send a week's worth of clothes to this hotel. Tell her you’ve fallen madly in love with Theodore and wish to speed up the nuptial date, so the two of you decided that you’ll elope—give it your own convincing flare.”

“Ok, I’ll call her! Please!” Delia shakes as he lightens the pressure of the gun against her temple. “J-just put the gun down.”

“If I do that, I’ll be making myself vulnerable.” Delia glances at Theo, his gold eyes reveal his regretful state. The man's right—as long as he was armed, there wasn’t anything Theo could do to save her.

“…Fine. Give me my phone.” She needs to be brave—or else she's fucked. The man gestures to the door, one of his associates gives Delia her purse. She's not stupid enough to jam her nail clippers into her attacker's hand—she would get shot in seconds. She reaches into her egg-shaped purse and pulls out her phone.

Delia takes short breaths, attempting to calm herself. It’s okay. It’s alright. If she makes the phone call, she’ll live. Everything will be fine if she makes the call.

She dials her grandmother’s number. It rings three times before she picks up.

“Hey, Dee—I was real confused for a minute because grandmother has your contact picture as a hen, but then I read the name and saw it was you! Sooo—how did your hotel date go?”

It’s Thorne. Fuck!

“Thorne? Why do you have Grandmother’s cell?”

“She wants me to watch it because she’s in a meeting with Deel and she’s shorthanded today.” That didn’t sound right, but Delia doesn’t have the luxury to discover why. “I can give her a message for ya.”

Actually, this might win in her favour. Thorne would believe anything Delia would tell him. She wouldn’t have to deal with a laundry list of questions either. “Listen carefully, tell the staff to send a week’s worth of clothes to the hotel I’m staying at—they’ll know which one I mean—I need more clothes because I want to elope with T-Theo.” Her voice wobbles as she tries to feign happiness.

“Elope?! NICE! Can I go?”

“No—we want it to be a time where we can get to know each other better. But I promise I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”

“Aww, that sounds so nice, Dee! I'm glad that you won’t be so miserable and lonely anymore. Now you have someone who can taste test your sandwiches, although I hope that you will still ask me to on occasion. But that doesn’t matter now. I'm glad I don’t have to beat Theo up.”

“You what?”

Yeah, I was gonna give him a black eye if he was mean or sour to you—even if he’s Thea’s brother. And don’t tell Deel I told you this, but he was worried about you too. Speaking of, did Theo mention where Thea went? She hasn’t been returning my calls—”

“We haven’t had the time to discuss Thea…” A hot stream of tears glides down her cheeks as she feels the dwindling impatience of her captor. “Just know I love you, Grandmother, and…Deel…very much, okay? N-no matter what happens.”

“Not enough to invite us to your eloping but whatever I guess…yeah, I love you too Dee. Send pictures or I’ll tell Deel and Grandmother that you want to be disinherited.”

“I will.” She lets out a choked bye before Thorne hangs up.

The man’s companion snatches Delia’s phone from her hand. “We’ll see if that’s enough to convince them. We might need a pic of the two of you to post on your Instagram to make it real convincing though—we’ll escort you two somewhere nicer and get you cleaned up first. Hopefully, the teary end didn’t give your condition away.” He sounds annoyed. “The two of you brought enough clothes for a couple of days at least?”

“Yes,” Delia replies meekly, barely able to contain her sob. The man lets her go; Delia runs towards Theo in a panic. He ushers her behind him, his golden eyes darkening as he focuses on the man with a gun.

“This has gone on long enough,” Theo says briskly, but the man’s gun is now pointed at him. “Whatever Oli’s done, I’ll make up for. There’s no need to involve Delia in this.”

Delia's heart pounds violently against her chest. Seeing the nose of the revolver sends her into a panic; she wraps her arms around Theo's waist for protection.

There's a glint in the man's green eyes, “Oli is as good as a dead man, for no one betrays me and gets away with it.” Theo's frame tenses as he whispers for Delia to let him go. She blindly obeys, watching as Theo lunges towards the man with a gun. A gunshot cripples her hearing momentarily; a screech escapes her lips. Theo knocks the man onto his back. The impact forces the gun to ricochet across the floor. The other man runs to pull Theo off of his comrade, pulling a conveniently sized needle from his shoulder bag. Delia screeches at Theo to watch out, but her scratchy voice reaches him too late—he lets out a grunt as the drug is inserted into his arm, falling limp within seconds.

Both men face Delia. “This one’s been compliant. We don’t need to induce her.” He nods his companion off. “Don’t look so distraught, the paralyzing serum will wear off soon enough. Theodore is too valuable to kill.”

“Then why were you going to kill him?!” Delia says—she clasps her mouth immediately. She doesn’t want to test this man’s temper.

“I didn’t realize that you Firthes were paychecks away from bankruptcy. Good thing I got word before I did the deed, or I’d have murdered myself out of a job.” Amusement fills his laughter. “No harm will come to either of you, as long as you both remain compliant. We’ll call for you when your things arrive—then the real fun can begin.” It doesn’t surprise Delia that this man would possess a maniacal grin; nevertheless, it sends shivers down her spine. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what this man considers fun.

He leaves Delia alone with a comatose Theo—his expression matching that of someone in a pained sleep. She has to snap him out of it! Delia readies her palm, grimacing at the thought of smacking this man. A loud slap echoes through the room, but nothing. She slaps him again, his left cheek redder than they were when he gazed at her this morning.

Please, Theo, wake up! Don’t leave me here alone…