2 That person

The place was dark, so much that he would've thought, he was sucked in a black hole if not for the faint rattling sound echoing due to his movement. The dissipation of sound gave him an inkling of lost and nothingness, but in another moment a flicker of hope emerges in his confinement, in his hand. The motion of pulse which he caught made him realize that someone is also there, even within his reach and he abruptly woke up.

Instantly he opened his eyes, but the sight was not what he presumed it to be. It should be the dull ceiling, dusty books, and his written fiction, not the wooden ceiling, seeming polished enough to shine vibrant.

The interior of the room was dim-lighted but he could still perceive the closed, translucent door. There was not much besides the king-sized bed, just some opulent lamps and burning incense. Although the dusky air, silky quilt & soft bed, the scent of sandalwood would have given anyone the warm feeling, instead it was messaging him about the foreboding evil because the next thing he detected was a heavy chain on his leg.

The chain was not much thick but the heaviness exerting was making him unable to move. He was amidst of muddling when he heard some kind of commotion. He raised his head, silently pondering on his upcoming actions. Not a half minute later, the door opened with a thumped, startling him. A very pretty girl and a handsome man, who entered with such a great force, paused at the entrance.

He would've jumped off the bed if not for that hand gripping him tightly.

"..."

Gripping him... a hand was held in his hand. A soft but not like a girl, hard & firm, perhaps calloused even, but still he was content to hold it. That hand loosened a bit so he tightened his grip, also twiddling a little.

Fondle...fondle...fondle...fondle...

He didn't even look at the person whose hand it was, and he would've kept doing it a bit longer of not that person tilting his chin towards him.

This person... he really was getting more surprises than his birthday today.

Inspecting his own messy clothes, that person half-naked form and those people occurrence, the situation became prominent for him.

His peaceful expression turned into the grave one, confusion, anger and finally a blank. He yanked his hand as if it was burned and with deadpanned eyes, he indicated to that person and bluntly said, "Hey girl, Stop crying. It's his fault." With both hands in a surrendered manner, "I refused."

[Note: She's not crying, literally. It's just an expression.]