The axe-guy threw me into a room, tossing me a blanket and then locking up. Walking away, he left me all by myself. It’s the middle of the night and the only source of light is a dim lamp overhead. I look around the room to check for any suspicious objects - after all they could’ve just thrown me in here to put an end to my slightly miserable existence. I find a bed with a white mattress and a blanket on it, a nightstand right next to it. The glass vase on top of it catches my attention - or more like, the thing in the vase. There, right beside the bed, are a handful of beautifully blossoming lavender stalks. An emotion flashes through my whole body, like being struck by lightning and before even realizing what I’m doing, I’ve grabbed the vase with the flowers and smashed it all on the ground, stepping onto the fragile plant and stomping it into the dusty ground. Only when I stop my destructive activity do I realize how my heart has started beating fast, and how I suddenly feel short on breath. I shake my head and tumble back a little, until my calf hits the edge of the bed and I fall onto it. I lean my forehead on my hands and close my eyes, focussing hard to keep the memories from coming back. This can’t be… I don’t want to think about it… I feel a sudden sting in my chest, as if someone had just stabbed me, the only thing reassuring me that it’s all just my imagination is the fact that I didn’t hear anyone get close to me. Or maybe there was a trap of some kind installed that set off when I made contact with the bed…? I touch myself right where the pain appeared and find no wound or other injuries.

               “What the was that noise?” I hear someone with a husky voice complain. Seconds later, someone repeatedly slams their fist against the door. “You’re not trying to escape, are you, little lady?!” At the nickname a shiver of disgust runs down my spine. Little… lady…? I decide to remain silent, curious as to what the outside of my room would do. Long story short, he ends up kicking in the door since he apparently doesn’t have a key on him, walking inside wearing only a T-shirt and tight boxers.

               “You’re gonna step on it” I warn, but he keeps approaching me, paying no heed to my words, until he comes to a painful halt, lifting his foot and grimacing. “Told you…” I hiss under my breath. Why is this guy so stupid…? He sets the foot back down, standing only on his toes. Pulling himself back together, he looks around.

               “What have you done to the flowers?” he asks, quite visibly indignant about the mess.

               “I killed them, as you can see” I answer.

               “Why? You’re gonna have to get new ones tomorrow…” I laugh at him even considering I would do that.

               “Why should I? They’re just stupid flowers. If you’re gonna throw me in a room all by myself against my will, then at least let me decorate it to my likes.”

               “Discuss that with the leader” the babyface counters. “He won’t be pleased about this.”

               “The missile?”

               “Minhyuk is his name. Pay him some respect!” I snort.

               “Why would I? If you want respect in this world, you better earn it. And scum like you or him definitely doesn’t deserve it.” The babyface raises his fist in anger.

               “How can you-?!”

               “Now, now. You’re not gonna hit a woman, are you?” I ask, winking at him while clicking my tongue. He takes a deep breath. Considering his changing facial expressions, I can see his brain working and slowly calming down.

               “Then at least clean up this mess…” he says, turning around, but then groaning. I look down to his injured foot and find a small puddle of blood beneath it, soiling the already dirty flowers.

               “You should really get that thing out…” I advise him, and he shoots me an unpleased look.

               “Well, obviously…”

               “Come here.” I gesture him to sit down next to me, then ask him to put his foot on my thigh, so that I can have a good look at the sole. “Doesn’t seem like a small piece… I should be able to remove that…” I mumble to myself, being met by his horrified look. “This will probably hurt a little, but bear with it. You’re a strong man” I with a grin, before pulling back my hand into my sleeve to have a better hold on the sherd. As I slowly remove it, I can hear him curse through gritted teeth. Do all men have such a low pain tolerance…?

               “There you go” I hand him the bloody piece of glass, in case he wants to keep it as some relic or something.

               “Thanks…” he says silently. “But why did you help me?” I shrug.

               “Can’t I do a good deed?” I question.

               “No, just… I didn’t think you would do this…” He gives the damaged door a look, then sighs, probably upon realizing he won’t get away with this unscathed either. “I feel like I have to watch you tonight, so you won’t escape, now that the door isn’t locked anymore…”

               “Might be, but first we should keep you from bleeding out” I say, pointing at his foot, where blood is now gushing out. He doesn’t seem to have realized it until now, because his eyes widen and he gives me that shocked expression, almost like on that one famous painting. “You got a bandage or something?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

               “I don’t think so…”

               “Then we gotta improvise…” In the end we get a fabric tissue and tie that around his foot, which should at least stop the bleeding. I tell him to get disinfectant tomorrow, so he won’t get any ugly infections, to which he once again questions why I’m taking care of him like this. I play it off again. Truth is, I just can’t look away when people are hurt. Good people, that is. And I don’t have the feeling he’s a bad guy at heart.

               Overnight he stays with me in my room to watch me, while I stay awake in case one of them wants to murder me. During probably the 20th staring contest of who can last longer without blinking, sunrays suddenly enter through the fogged and uncleaned window, telling us that it’s almost morning. He loses this time, due to being blinded by the light, while I sit comfortable next to the window where the sun can’t directly reach me. Nobody ever announced any of these contests by the way, we just seem to have a mutual understanding about when to start a round. I hear his stomach growl from across the room.

               “You should go get breakfast” I say, curious if he’ll fall for it or not. Surprisingly enough, he shakes his head.

               “Then you’ll run away.”

               “D’awww…” I make, pouting.

               “We can, however, go out to get food together” he offers, to which I raise an eyebrow.

               “What if I’m not hungry though?”

               “Then you’ll come with me anyways. Or we wait until the others get up.”

               “That sounds not so fun… I guess I’ll come along after all. Or you’ll keep complaining about me letting you starve to death here.”

               The babyface puts on pants and leaves the others a note so they don’t suspect me killing him and running away - or worse, him freeing me and us running away together - before we leave the shop. He walks us to a fast-food place, where I stop right as he attempts to enter it.

               “What is it? Not happy with my choice?” he throws a question over his shoulder.

               “We should eat decent food” I reply, hands in my pockets. The smell of the fatty food and the cheap kitchen creeps up my nose. He sighs.

               “Hey, I can’t invite you for steak at this time of day…”

               “You’re paying?” I ask in surprise. “Well, then I can’t say no.”

               “That wasn’t what I was…” he stutters as I pass him by. We both order a coffee and a breakfast-sandwich, and I take off with my tray so that he has no choice but to pay for the both of us. When he takes a seat opposite me, his annoyed look tells me that he didn’t appreciate me making him buy me food.

               “If you’re kidnapping me then you better feed me. That’s like raising a pet” I joke, but keep a serious face.

               “So I can teach you tricks?” is his answer, before he shoves the sandwich in his mouth and takes a huge bite.

               “Nah, I’m not a dog. But you can try giving me treats - maybe I’ll obey.” I wink at him, before I start digging in too. We finish our food and I get ready to return to the butcher’s shop, when he proposes something.

               “I’d like to visit a special place… that I haven’t been to in a while” he announces. “So I thought I could show you… what’s your name again?” I give him my first name before commenting,

               “Fine, but you can’t really surprise me with any place here. I know this city by heart.” He insists nevertheless and I follow him. We walk along the main road right next to the river that flows through this city, when we reach a tunnel passage that we pass through. We come out at the back of a grey neighborhood, buildings tall and with dirty renderings. There is a low wall separating the river from the city, probably to prevent people from falling down there. He jumps up and sits down, his legs on the water-side and I join him.

               “This is your special place?” I ask. It’s really not that pretty here. He gives me a nod.

               “For some reason, it calms me down, whenever I come here.” He stares off into the distance, suddenly seeming much more grown-up. “You got a place like that too?”

               “Me?” I point at myself. “Not really… I mean… there is one place… but more than anything it makes me sad. I don’t want to think about it.” He laughs.

               “I didn’t ask if you had a place that makes you feel especially bad, but a good place, with good memories, or just a nice atmosphere.”

               “In that case… I don’t think I have that…” I say. I watch the water flow beneath us, tiny waves curling and splashing against the rocks on the shore.

               “You should find one” he prompts. I give him a confused look. “Everyone needs a special place to return to.”

               “I guess I just don’t have one. I’m used to it” I say, when a yawn forces itself out of my mouth.

               “You’re getting tired too, aren’t you?”

               “Hmpf… not really” I scoff, crossing my arms in front of my chest. He lightly hits me on the back of my head.

               “Don’t be stupid and rest…” I look at him, dumbfounded. Did this little just call me stupid…?! As I want to jump up to protest, he places his head on my shoulder.

               “I’m tired too” he says. “Let’s both take a nap.” Even more perplexed, I freeze up, glancing over to his face, eyes closed, letting out a sigh. He looks so… innocent all of a sudden. A warm feeling arises in my stomach upon seeing him like this… being close to him like this. Can I trust this man? I slowly lean my own head to the side, resting it on his.

               “So… what was it that made you thrash the flowers…?” he carefully asks. As I’m about to get up and scream at him angrily, I reconsider. Maybe I shouldn’t be so rude about it.

               “I just… don’t like them” I say, hoping to brush off the topic with that. But of course, the kind of idiot he is, he pries further.

               “But why? Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean you have to be that aggressive. Or… do you just have bad anger management?” He grins. A of annoyance hits me. I really want to punch him for that, but I hold back.

               “...maybe… but that’s not the reason” I admit. “I just… don’t have very good memories attached to them.”

               “So you’d prefer if I stopped asking about it?”

               “Damn right.”

               “Then let’s just sleep…” he whispers. Listening to the water beneath, I feel my eyelids getting heavier, until I doze off.