Flynn was slouched and limp against the stone wall. Only his feet were bathed in the squared off bit of sun that lazily poured down through the barred window. His eyes were fixed and just barely open. If he wasn't careful, he would start drooling.
The young woman's voice sent his nerves in tranquil, twitchy bliss. His leg occasionally jerked and his lip curled into what (on any occasion that involved the seductive spell of a woman) would normally form into an aroused growl.
However, he muted all vocalization, willing himself to not interrupt the perfect pitch and dream-like melody that ensnared him into such a deep and perfect lull. It left him oblivious to the fact that he was being thoroughly examined by a pair of bright, analyzing, hyper-enthralled eyes— gauging his strange reactions, confused by the rumbling feelings for them, and sidling it all away into the most reliable and permanent trenches of her vast memory.
When she finally finished, Flynn blinked slowly. His eyes felt cold and sticky from lack of movement. They seemed to reflect the speed in which his mind was currently processing with any coherency at the moment.
"Please tell me your name," he breathed—begged— slowly turning his head in her direction.
The woman quickly inhaled. The look in his partially lit face sent crashing wave after crashing wave of igniting nerves beating down against unknown flood gates. She snapped her hands downward and grabbed her chair, a rough cough briefly escaping. This strange man had no idea what was transpiring head to toe within her right now. Or maybe he did.
"Rapunzel," she sputtered out quickly.
"Ra…what?"
"Rapunzel…" she said again.
"Rapunzel…" he repeated quietly.
Rapunzel's eyelids suddenly drooped and her jaw went slack. Her name sounded so foreign in a rugged tone; a low, masculine timbre. As much as Flynn was rapt by her entrancing qualities, singing and all, he forgot to consider that his voice roughly stirred something deep within her core. He was an unforeseen, never imagined element to the simple, harshly monitored, three-tiered block pile of a world Rapunzel was immediately aware of. He was like a new, forbidden ingredient to a strict and stringent recipe carefully measured and tyrannically enforced. And he was causing an intensifying chemical reaction. She had to collect herself from swaying and made sure she breathed in ample amounts of oxygen. This was becoming difficult as she stared, eyes unrelenting, unable to deviate from his posture.
"Nice to meet you," Flynn broke the mounting silence, smiling kindly. She could stare all she wanted. He couldn't remember the last time he was so flattered by it. He also couldn't remember the last time he genuinely smiled to someone. He would have pondered its strangeness more, if it wasn't so easy to accomplish for this girl. A terrifying thought.
Rapunzel couldn't help a deep breath and a smile in return. She started to relax and similarly, just as she realized how easy it was to relax in front of this stranger, she quickly turned away in a bout of self-awareness. Flynn's voice was a fresh sensation that echoed off of stubbornly familiar walls, painting them with new life that coated her thickly plastered art. She could feel the dark, alluring nuances soak into every pore and rivet of brick and mortar. His voice now forever having a home imprinted within every surface of her abode.
Rapunzel's mind flitted around rapidly. While she was casually accustomed to how quickly her mind processed new information, this was a case where she couldn't get a grasp on any of it. It felt like she was trying to grab light.
"Who's that?"
At first, fear struck her with no mercy. She nearly jumped to her feet at his words until she saw him pointing at her shoulder. Flynn became stock still, eyes widening at her reaction, but he didn't question it. Instead he kept the minor freak-out in mind for future questioning and/or prying.
"Oh…" Rapunzel breathed in relief, looking at the reptile on her shoulder. "This is Pascal."
"Cute fella…for a frog."
Pascal gave a buzzing gurgle in irritation and Rapunzel gave Flynn a 'look' that he decided looked very good on her. He would have to try and get her to do it again sometime.
"He's a chameleon," she corrected.
"He's your buddy, huh? Keeps you company?"
"Yes…" Rapunzel said warily; another attempt to remove invisible strands of hair from her face.
Flynn was ready to ask who was keeping her here, why she freaked out, and why— when she had the perfect opportunity—didn't bolt out of this prison when not one, but two of the doors were swung wide open.
He didn't know that she forced herself to ignore the inviting, unhindered exit. 'Forced' being the key word here, for Flynn noticed several flighty glances and shortened breaths that competed in number to how she looked at him.
Of course, Flynn knew he beat out the door any day. And before he knew it, he felt like a bit of an ass for comparing himself with the possible chance of freedom. He never went very long without reminding himself of his shamefulness. But this was the first time in recent memory that he actually felt a very unfamiliar sadness crawling under his skin, bedding in his bones and fiercely batting at his heart for attention.
Flynn gulped. He replicated Rapunzel's feeble attempt to ignore the obvious— as he reinstated order into his rarely disorganized thoughts.
So now, a new agenda…
He didn't want to break the fragile, newborn trust he had instilled so far. Instead, he opted to finesse his way into a more casual topic.
"Hey, do you mind if I finish my lunch here? I never got to finish and I'm starved. You can have some if you like," he offered.
"Oh!" Rapunzel immediately eyed the table. Her shoulders rolled back, her spine straightened, her feet tucked firmly under herself as if ready to hop into action. An innate sense of hospitality suddenly blossomed, so much that even she became startled by it as she paused and looked at Flynn. She then curled in on herself and gathered her hands to her chest, before her eyes wandered without purpose. Her mind turned, spun and wove these new details, but with no results found. Her daily routine halted and even cut to pieces, as it was clearly never going to be the same after this, even if this man suddenly vanished. She was trying so hard to comprehend it all, and how she should properly react. She looked guilty. She looked like she was expecting to be chastised. There was a flash of anger in Flynn's eyes as he wondered what or who was putting her into such a state, even when they were not here.
But he donned a straight face and then a sympathetic smile. He would be as submissive as she wanted; and with such willingness it frightened him over and over again. And then—
"Of course…you can sit at the table…" came her meek reply.
Now Flynn had to collect himself and take a steady breath. He got up slowly, still not making any sudden movements as he walked over and sat down. With his head down, he dedicated himself to eating straight out of his bag. His eyes caught sight of her slowly stepping toward him. After noticing little movement from her, she suddenly stepped right up to him and looked at his meal.
A simple dinner roll was all he was having for lunch, and a pale hunk of cheese. Flynn braved to glance up at her contemplative stare.
Rapunzel then quickly moved over to the stove and started making kitchen noise. He watched while he chewed and then stopped as she approached with a plate full of fresh slices of bread, pieces of fruit and smoked cheese. Smoked cheese.
He set his hand down and swallowed the remaining bit of comparative staleness in his mouth.
"Here. I'll trade you," she said with surprising bravery and humor, searching his face for approval.
Flynn looked at her.
"You sure, Blondie? I mean, this is awful nice of you."
"It's no trouble," she scooted the plate in front of him. Flynn slowly lowered his pitiful meal and traded it for the new dish. He gave her his first dashing smile since their encounter after he examined the vibrant replacement. Rapunzel flushed and was quick to distract herself away from the exhausting onslaught of confusion as she grabbed his previous bread and cheese.
"I'll give these to Henry when he comes back."
"Henry?" Flynn asked between mouthfuls of the sweetest most deliciously dense fruit he'd ever tasted;... but not to be distracted from the sound of a male name.
"The crow," she clarified.
Flynn wiped his mouth and squinted his eyes to hide his relief.
"The crow's name is Henry?"
"He's technically a Raven, but they are crows; just a subspecies of them. A carnivorous subspecies. He loves when mother brings meat because I'm not a big meat eater."
For someone who's supposed to be hidden away from the world, she sure was well-informed…to some degree, and somehow naturally people friendly. It was clear what she was ultimately craving for. This was especially evident when Flynn realized he heard something he probably shouldn't have.
"Your mother?"
Rapunzel froze.
He knew it. How much further the surreal circumstance could mount, he feared to guess. He acted casually about it though.
"Your mother lives here with you? Where is she now?"
Rapunzel slowly lowered her hand. She turned to look at Flynn with reluctant suspicion, and then guilt for having it.
"Yes… my mother lives here. She travels for ingredients and supplies." She studied him again before deciding on her last words. Caution be damned, this man had been kinder to her than her mother ever had. Instinct told her it would be foolish to reveal, but another instinct forced her hand. His presence alone was very persuasive.
"She'll be gone until the Monday after…"
That meant she would be gone for ten more days.
Well…
Flynn wrestled away any vile thoughts. Or at least he tried with pathetic results. He settled for clearing his throat.
"And she leaves you here…?"
Rapunzel said nothing.
"Rapunzel," Flynn squared his shoulders, the sternness finally coming through, "is there a secret here, or are you the secret?"
Rapunzel turned to him, her eyes wide with pained, growing fear that did not look good on her face, and made Flynn's knuckles burn for whomever instilled it in her.
He shook his head. He would get that cleared up later. For now: "Don't look at me like that. I still don't know what the hell is going on, but I won't sell you out." He wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort her, but the last thing he wanted was for him to be the cause of any fear. He also tried to stop from looking her up and down, but that wasn't going to happen either. This was a day of many failures, and yet he didn't feel the weight of any of it. It all seemed to wash away from the longing stares that she occasionally found herself lost in, even when she was feeling distressed.
"You sing too pretty," Flynn finally blurted out. "And Henry needs you. And your frog—"
Rapunzel gave a sigh and a hint of a giggle. She started to loosen up again as she shared with him an incredulous grin. This was another look that was going to have to recur, as far as Flynn was concerned.
"Chameleon…"
"Thaaat's right…" he said, feigning embarrassment. He wondered how long he could teeter on her pendulum-like emotions, but he commended himself for the grasp he had so far. "Remind me frequently, Blondie. I'm not privy to most animals in general. But I'm impressed by what I've learned so far. I think it would be advantageous to swap knowledge, if you're up for it."
Rapunzel huffed a little sigh but her imagination roared into life at the idea of accessible knowledge. That knowledge was sitting across a table from her with an open invitation. She didn't know where to begin. She wanted to know everything near and far, tangible and intangible, but she was too overwhelmed to articulate her first need.
And then, another distraction. Before she realized it, her smile faded as her eyes gleamed with wonder, and her focus suddenly deviated down his neck line. All it took was the playful tilt of his head as he waited, and she was having a staring contest with him again. Heat began to rise in her chest, on her cheeks, under her eyes and in the pit of her stomach— and when she felt the pang elsewhere, she rooted herself stiffly and clamped her mouth shut.
Flynn watched her. And he witnessed that look for the umpteenth time now. Even as her eyes bearing down on him sent a rush down his body to a degree he never felt before; seeing what played on her face only made him feel sorry for her. She was a prisoner indeed.
"So I thought I'd ask if you wanted to go for a walk," he offered with a casual shrug. If anything, he would introduce her to informality.
Rapunzel flinched so violently, Flynn felt it physically. He went on.
"But I remembered that the lock was on the outside…you were locked in here," he clarified, his words chosen to dig a little. Hurt a little.
"To keep me safe…" came her rapid, insistent response.
Flynn paused, his teeth slightly showing. The snappy, frantic nature of the retort sent up vibrant red flags. Something deep inside him conjured the disturbing notion that they were dyed with human blood. He blinked away the eccentric thought and inhaled. He considered his reply carefully as he looked her over. Rapunzel found her cheeks heating up as she drove her gaze to the floor.
"Your mother locks you in here while she's gone. I understand that much. She's keeping you a secret, for one reason or another, I don't know what it is. You've got a ridiculous amount of hair for yet another reason I can't comprehend, and you're willing to believe all this makes you safe?"
"Absolutely," she said with so much resolution, Flynn balked. He made no response for awhile as he studied both her words and her false conviction.
"Well," he trailed off, with finality in his tone as he stood up. With no hesitation, he walked out of the niche and Rapunzel froze as he strode by her without even a passing glance. Her eyes were desperately trained on him as he made his way to the door.
Dear God, was he leaving? He wouldn't leave. Not like that. Not just yet. But did I make him mad? Does he think I don't want him here? Wait. I don't want him here, right? I'm not supposed to want him here, but…
Flynn stood in front of the barred door and finally looked back. Sure enough, Rapunzel's breathing was deep and evident as she watched him, wide-eyed and silent.
Still gazing at her, he opened the gate and released, allowing it to gently swing toward him with a long, mocking screech before it obnoxiously clanged against the wall. He then opened the wooden door, releasing again, and it swung away from him in the same slow, torturous manner before thudding against the supporting brickwork. Light scrambled in hungrily through the broad, airy opening as if jealous that only one side of the 'house' ever got its attention. Flynn noticed her stand straighter and take in a particularly dedicated breath through her adorable, upturned nose.
Flynn took a single step—
—and was technically outside.
He turned around to face her and sat down on the first step, folding his hands and smiling at her cunningly.
"It's nice out here…" he chided through a toothy grin.
Rapunzel ducked her head, trying and failing to give him a hard glare. To her sudden dismay, the faint weight of a friend she had grown so accustom to, suddenly left her shoulder and darted across the room.
The little lizard stopped short of the threshold and looked up past Flynn, growing dizzy at the height of the stairway.
"Pascal!" Rapunzel called in dismay.
Pascal turned to her with a look of sadness and pleading. For a moment, Rapunzel felt her own pleas were suddenly channeled through her little green friend. Pascal curiously turned to Flynn, who tilted his head and smiled down at the scaly critter.
"Step over that threshold," came his bargaining voice, "and I'll never call you a frog again."
The dam of excitement broke, and was entirely used as an excuse to run out of the prison. Flynn quickly found the lizard perched on his shoulder, who turned and looked expectantly at Rapunzel.
"Your turn, Blondie," Flynn said softly, eying her just the same. Rapunzel felt her fingers twitch and her cheeks warm up. Flynn lifted a brow. "I'll let you ride my other shoulder," he offered, hoping his mischievous tone wasn't too obvious.
Rapunzel didn't know why, but she felt intensely hot at his words and turned away. As her eyes fixated on a dark table in a dark corner, she heard the encouraging whir of her friend on Flynn's shoulder.
"Your friend's right, Blondie, I think you should take the chance."
Rapunzel turned to him again, her mouth parting. "You can understand him?"
"I can understand him about as well as Henry." Which was really just sloppy guesstimation.
Rapunzel took a breath, her eyes needing to scan her home, but she refrained. She knew the more she pursued an excuse, the more her life would continue to resemble a rusty, abandoned anchor. Besides, it was just for a walk…
A walk…she'd never taken a walk before…
Tears almost leapt out of her eyes at such a thought, but instead, she leapt forward herself and darted for the opening.
Flynn expected excitement, but he didn't expect such clumsy enthusiasm as she was running too fast to stop. She tripped about the uneven flooring just outside the threshold and came hurtling toward Flynn.
Pascal leapt off Flynn's shoulder and scurried up the stairs as they crashed full bodied into each other.
Rapunzel's body lay flat against Flynn's, and for what felt like a stilled instant in time, both seemed to enter into an untouched vein of existence. Suddenly the rest of the world was blotted out of memory, and what remained belonged only to them.
Never mind that Flynn's body was grating against the edges of stone steps. Never mind that the back of his head was becoming well-acquainted with the sharpest edge of the sharpest step of the lot. Never mind that Rapunzel's weight pressing into him made it worse. Hell, it was the cure for anything as far as he was concerned. Never mind that Flynn could barely churn out a startled breath as the weight of her laying across him aroused his soul into thinking it had reached heaven.
Rapunzel could not move as she felt herself enveloped by the scent of her intruder. She felt strong, broad arms slide up her body, and she could see nothing but him as the drag of his fingertips sent pulse after pulse of carnal sentiments. They seemed to rest in key parts of her body; in her teeth, in her hands, in her lips, in her toes and most definitely...
And she didn't know why or what they wanted from Flynn, but she knew it had everything to do with him. Right from the moment she saw him, she knew. Somehow being sprawled on top of him broke something in her. And she was not afraid.
Flynn released her immediately and gripped the walls instead, shutting his eyes, seething in torment. He forced himself back to the real world—
—back to the steps of a prison.
"Agh!" he screeched, not from physical pain of being tackled, but the pain of ripping that pleasure away from himself. "I've got, ah…uh…a bruise!" he lied.
"Sorry! I'm sorry!" she said breathlessly, lifting herself from him and nearly falling back into the house again. It seemed the overwhelming feeling of being outside, even if it was just a step onto a patch of shoddy stonework, could make her clumsy as an newborn ox.
Flynn remained sloppily slumped on the steps for a time, his neck beaded with sweat, aching for her breath to be there again.
"What the hell? What the hell is happening? Why is this happening? How did she…? Why am I…?"
He didn't know he was talking aloud.
"Flynn…?" she peeped.
Flynn cranked his head up and saw her leaning against the wall, her head turned away. Her flushed and beautiful face twitched. Her chest heaved and her hands were shaking.
Flynn slowly rose to his feet and dusted himself off with dead weight arms.
"Cuh…" he shook his head, hoping it would get the blood to flow obediently again. "Come on…Blondie…up…here…"
He didn't bother checking to see if she would follow as he made his way up the stairs with all the decadent skill of a drunken sloth.
When he finally reached the top, Pascal darted up to him, happily munching on a dragonfly.
"Good for you, buddy. I suggest you try to avoid the grass for awhile. You blend in pretty well. And seeing as how Blondie's acting, we wouldn't want you underfoot. You know what I mean?"
Pascal turned a pretty shade of purple and headed toward a cluster of rocks near a creek. There were lots of interesting winged things to eat there.
Flynn glanced back down the stairwell. Rapunzel was in the exact same spot, in the exact same position.
Flynn sighed guiltily, even though he was theoretically responsible for nothing.
"Hey…" he called.
Rapunzel looked up.
Instead of trying to convince her any further, Flynn merely smiled, made his way across the last step and walked on until he was completely out of her vision.
Rapunzel knees gave again and she grabbed the wall for support. As tactfully as she could, she climbed up the stairs, every step, an anchoring, emotional hurdle. Every step, brightened in color, illuminating her path to freedom. Every step revealed more and more to her. Hints and blotches of poorly weaved images over nearly two decades were becoming a full and functioning living reality before her. She was welcomed by a warm and thunderous breath from the earth. The chorus of wind that churned through the grass and leaves was like a standing ovation for her arrival—finally!
When she breathlessly reached the top, she felt faint and dizzy and terrified of the splendor she genuinely felt undeserving of. Her eyes adjusted far too slow for her taste as she could hardly comprehend the surreal reality that had always existed around her. It knew more about her than she knew of it. It knew more about her than she knew of herself. She looked down. She still had not touched a single blade of grass as she stood on a worn patch of ground that conformed into hard packed dirt.
Feeling like a giant in sea of flourishing green, Rapunzel tentatively stepped forward, the bottoms of her feet tickled as the blades curled under her feet, snagging roughly against each other until they were completely pressed to the ground with her weight.
Rapunzel took a breath. She started shivering. She started laughing. Finally, she started crying; and she fell to the lushness beneath her, extending her body out, stretching her fingers and toes, burying her face in the soft tendrils. Blues, greens and rays of buttery yellow blurred together as tears and laughter sapped her of strength and sanity while she rolled, grasped and wailed in the kind of happiness that punishes you. Her breath was gone. Her vision was gone. Manic delight and lunacy were one and the same as her hands trembled at her sobbing, cackling face. She kicked and reached, fasting her delicate fingers into lightning-white knuckles, a victory cry escaping her parched throat, an aching whimper following shortly after. It was too much, and not enough, because something- someone was missing. But she had no strength to even lift her head and visually seek him out.
When the storm within her fully subsided, and all that was left were a few lingering trembles, Flynn made his steady approach. At last, Rapunzel had the strength to slowly turn her head. Flynn stood a few feet from her, a soft sparkle in his eyes. He had watched her whole ordeal, but he would keep it to himself for now.
Rapunzel surveyed him carefully, her breathing full and rounded—and very much in his direction.
He did this to her.
He did this for her.
All because he thought he heard a cry for help?
She believed him.
She didn't have a reason not to. Not after this. And as Flynn began to comprehend how he had altered her life within the span of a few hours, the prodding consequences danced scornfully before him, sneering and jeering at any false notion of heroics. Most of those consequences were glibly dismissed, but others set their foot down, cracked their iron fists and revealed more inevitable tears, wails and earth shattering heartbreaks of a certain girl he felt the irrational need to impose himself on. There were no visions of bright, happy endings that dared to compete with these dire tyrants of the mind. Flynn began to feel a real, physical, self-loathing tunneling his vision, slaughtering his dreams, and taking every word, every thought, every glance, and every beat of his heart hostage.
Rapunzel was taking him hostage.
He was her prisoner.
A/N:
Reviews would be lovely. I have an addiction to feeling giddy and encouraged.