The Desired Victim

Chapter 10: These Soft Feathers

I don't know how I managed to fall asleep last night, considering the situation I'm in. I suppose my fatigue and exhaustion had won the war between my brain, and I must have fallen asleep. I dreamt of being home, and my loving family who I'd never see again. I had almost forgotton what had become of me, and what would really happen to me. Opening my eyes, I started blinking hard. Feeling my face, I realized that it was wet. A small, cold drip of water dropped on my head from above, revealing a leak.

I sighed. How many more days on this ship? I wasn't even going to bother trying to remember. I decided I better arouse and find some sort of breakfast, since I could already feel my bones poking through my corset. But something was keeping me from moving.

I looked down. Two strong arms were wrapped tightly around my body. Tracing the arms to a face, I realized with slight horror it was Emory. He was still sleeping, and I felt his warm breath on my shoulder. He looked even more handsome in sleep, since it erased the usual scowls and smirks. His long, dark eyelashes spread out across smooth, olive skin, and I noticed he had a small scar across his eyebrow. I felt a sudden urge to touch his face, but stopped myself.

What am I thinking?!

I can't be having these thoughts about him. What would happen if he woke up? I couldn't imagine the outcome of that situation. Has being in this enviroment made me go mad? Was I so desperate to have someone care for me, that I would even consider it be the man who's selling me to a pimp?!

NO!!

I tried even harder to escape from his grasp. But no matter what I did, it was quite obvious he wouldn't be letting go. I looked at his lovely face again. Did I really want to disrupt such a beautiful, peaceful slumber?

YES!! The still functioning part of my mind screamed.

I jostled, twisted, turned, squirmed, but it was no use. He really wasn't going to let go. Maybe I should just go back to sleep. I looked up at the leak, knowing that there was no way I could even try to sleep with the water droplets soaking my head.

"Emory," I whispered urgently. "Emory!!"

I silently cursed at myself for calling him that. I wasn't supposed to.

The only response I got was a quiet moan from his lips. Defeated, I slumped back into his arms, turning over so I wouldn't be tempted to touch his face.

*^*^*^*^*^*

I must've dozed off again, because I woke up feeling cold. And the sounds of a knife being sharpened didn't help either.

"Good afternoon, Honeybird," I heard Emory snort from across the room. Opening my eyes and turning over, I saw Emory sitting on a stool sharpening a dagger, casually. I sat up.

"W-what time . . . is it . . . ?" God, I sounded drunk.

Not looking at me, he said: "About three. Or at least that's what I was told."

I stayed silent. Sitting up, I asked: "Did you . . . sleep with me last night?"