My eyes fluttered open. Almost immediately, a powerful migraine threatened to split my skull in two. My bones felt like jelly.

After minutes of staring at nothing in particular, I finally registered what I had been staring at all this time. It was the backside of the upper bunk of a double bunk bed. I quickly looked around the room and came to the frightening conclusion that it wasn’t a room but a prison cell. It was barely six by four of thick grey stone with an opening for a window with barred glass.

Next to the bunk, a surprisingly clean toilet seat was attached to the wall while a desk that had things neatly arranged atop it such as a DVD player, CDs, and books faced the bunk. Among the diverse collection of things sat a laptop.

Were inmates allowed such luxuries?

Once I was sure I could move without causing myself more pain, I gingerly sat up and got up. Cautiously, I went to the desk and examined the laptop closely with drawn eyebrows, then let my eyes roam over the other items. I picked up the sleek MacBook and turned it in my hands. Was this another smuggled item?

I didn’t notice him enter the cell until I heard him demand, “What the fuck are you doing in my cell?”

Startled, I let go of the laptop and it fell to the floor and broke.

My heart in my throat, I reflexively stepped away from the shattered laptop on the ground. A mental groan echoed in the depths of my mind, shattering the false sense of serenity I had started to develop upon eyeing all the familiar devices and material placed around the prison cell.

The intruder’s deep voice had startled me out of my wits.

“I said, what the fuck are you doing in my cell?” The infuriated baritone voice repeated, his every word dipped in venom, chilling me to the bone and making my skin crawl.

The feeling of imminent danger invaded my body, nearly taking control of me as the relentless urge to flee consumed me and almost took over my legs. My instincts told me that I was in the presence of looming peril.

Whoever was standing behind me was no one to trifle with.

With extreme difficulty, I willed my body to face the person I assumed was the upper bunk’s owner. Whether he liked it or not, we were sharing this cell now. It was time I showed this place and its residents that I had some backbone, and that I wouldn’t be bullied or harassed any longer.

When my eyes met the startling, terrifying pair of electric blue eyes, the prison cell seemed to shrink into a tiny cubicle that barely had air, suffocating me, my claustrophobic reflexes kicking in. Involuntarily, I took another step back as if I had been struck. For what seemed like hours, my eyes unblinkingly stared into my cellmate’s piercing ones. They portrayed only one emotion: Unfathomable fury.

He looked so angry that it was a wonder how the entire cell didn’t shake from it.

“Are you deaf?” he snapped and flashed me perfect white teeth in a sneer.

The trance broke and I finally managed to pry my eyes away and take a good look at the rest of him.

I never thought I’d find a model in prison, or a warrior angel. He stood defiant and tall with his legs apart, ready to do battle. His tanned body was lean yet obviously well-muscled and strong. The orange uniform wrapped around his body like a second skin, emphasizing his muscles. His face was out of this world. It was all hard lines and edges, a straight nose, and defined cheekbones with a few day’s growth of sandy stubble sprinkled across his jaw and cheeks. His hair was so blonde that it was practically yellow, and I was consumed by the strange urge to run my hand through it just to see if it was as soft as it looked.

Much to my chagrin, my heart started fluttering.

He seethed, his chest heaving up and down as if he’d just run a marathon. I supposed his reaction was understandable; I’d broken his MacBook and those things didn’t come cheap. But I wouldn’t have dropped it had he not scared me like that!

“I’m sorry about the laptop. I’ll pay you—”

“If I have to ask my question again, you won’t stay alive long enough to answer.”

I blanched.

I kind of understood why someone would be so angry if what they considered as their territory was invaded, but he was just exaggerating.

“Chill, man; I was assigned to this cell.” Though I tried to sound nonchalant, it came out nervous and a hint of feel slipped out. I balled my shaking fists before he spotted them.

Come on, Aiden. Get it together.

“Who assigned you?” he demanded, his chiseled features darkening. It wasn’t just his face that darkened, but also his eyes. It was both fascinating and terrifying to watch.

Tension bubbled in the air, the atmosphere growing charged and crackling. Static. I felt like I was walking blindly in a minefield and one wrong step would lead to my total annihilation. “S-Some asshole with shaggy blonde hair and bad breath. He’s a guard.”

His scorching gaze burned through my skin like acid. I watched as his eyes slowly narrowed at me into suspicious slits, his thick, finely-drawn brows pulled together.

Gooseflesh paraded across my skin.

Without warning, his expression went blank. It was like erasing a whiteboard.

It was my turn to narrow my eyes suspiciously. Was this the calm before the storm thing? Would he suddenly lash out at me?

“Um, are you alright?” I asked uncertainly.

I glanced behind him at the cell’s open door. He was standing between me and safety. Could U make a run for it if it came down to it?

I then noticed the other row of cells opposite this one, a rusty metal catwalk bridging us. Rather, my attention was drawn to the inmates in in them watching the two of us with open curiosity and dark amusement, like they were expecting one hell of a show.

Did they have reason to expect a show?

In my distracted state, I failed to notice the inmate I was supposed to keep an eye on move until it was too late. I was forcefully shoved in the direction of the lower bunk, and I stumbled and fell on it. An oomph sound escaped my lips. Wide-eyed, I attempted to rise and counterattack, anger swelling in me like a volcano about to erupt, when the loud bang of the cell door slamming closed echoed in the small cell, giving me pause.

He’d sealed me in the cell and he now loomed over me.

My fight or flight reflex kicked in. I chose flight. But it was too fucking late again.

The bunk groaned in protest when his weight settled atop mine. Two hands placed on either side of my head trapped me in place. His handsome face appeared in my line of vision.

It had to be the light playing tricks on me, because his eyes were practically black now.

There was a certain emotion swelling in their depths that I had no hope of deciphering, the raw intensity of his gaze startling.

With seemingly no difficulty, he’d successfully pinned me down. I struggled with every ounce of strength I had like a trapped cat, arms flailing, feet kicking, but it was all in vain. He didn’t even budge.

What the fuck did they feed this guy?

Bristling, I growled venomously, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get off me!”

Oh, this can’t be happening again!

The memory of what had happened in the inspection room earlier this day was far too fresh. I wouldn’t allow myself to go through the same experience twice in one day! I just couldn’t!

It was time to switch to another strategy. Perhaps reason would work on him. “Look I’ll move to another cell if that’s what you want. I don’t want any trouble.”

He stared intently at me, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as if he was trying to see right through me. Since the upper bunk wasn’t that high, he had to lean closer to me so his head wouldn’t bang into it, therefore bringing his face closer to mine. I could now see every little detail of his perfect –almost too perfect—face.

In response to his close proximity, blood rushed up my neck to my cheeks, infusing them with a beetroot color. Dammit. The last thing I wanted to do was give any indication that this was affecting me. That he was affecting me.

“Are you just going to sit on top of me and stare?” The tough act I was trying to put on failed miserably; even I detected the unmistakable fright and anxiety in my voice. He was so close, I bet he could hear the frantic pounding of my heart.

He didn’t reply. A minute passed, and then another. Neither of us said anything as the unbearable silence stretched between us. Before I realized it, I was staring into his eyes as deeply as his dark ones were boring into mine, wondering the whole time just what was wrong with him.

“You’re him.” His deep, velvety voice made me shiver. The emotionless mask broke to reveal signs of recognition. “You’re really him,” he mysteriously repeated, his eyes widening and his brows disappearing behind thick, long bangs of soft-looking hair.

I hesitated. “I-I’m who?”

He reached a hand to my face. Panic shot through me like a lightning bolt. I instinctively flinched, expecting a blow or two. A massive, warm palm was laid against my right cheek gingerly, as if I were a piece of precious china. Something at the pit of my stomach stirred and I shivered. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

He stroked my cheek ever so gently, his large hand surprisingly soft, and then he started leaning even closer to my face till our noses were a hairsbreadth away.

Flustered, I stammered, “W-What do you think y-you’re doing?”

“You’re him, aren’t you?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer, adding, “I know it’s you.” Question marks popped up into my head. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t answer if I asked what he meant, so I just kept my mouth shut. Some part of me was curious –and dare I say even anticipant? —of what he’d do next.

He smiled, stealing my breath away.

My heart rate skyrocketed and became nowhere near the acceptable range.

“I knew I’d find you eventually.” Then, he chuckled, a melodious sound that did unspeakable things to my insides, and he said, “But I never thought you’d find me.”

He gracefully slipped off me and off the bunk and went to the cell’s closed bars. As soon as he stood in front of them, they slid open with a grating metallic sound. He took one last look at me and then he walked out of the cell, leaving me flushed and very, very confused on the bunk. The bars slid closed.

“What the hell?”