I awoke in a bed that was not my own. My face lay against the comforter and I could smell a soap that wasn't one that I used. Islowly sat up, and as I did so, I felt the rope that cound my feet together. I pulled at them, but they didn't have any room for wiggling, let alone escaping. I had to remember what happened, who had I seen just before I went unconcious. Who was I meeting, where had I even gone, how long have I been out? I could barely remember what day it was when I had been kidnapped, let alone who had done it.
I just had to sit and calm down for a moment. Let my mind begin to straighten things out. I had been going to meet someone, that much I knew. Who had I called?
A sound came from the other side of the door and I debated on whether I should scream and get the attention of someone who could help, or risk my kidnapper becoming angry with me and doing god knows what.
I decided, or more my body decided for me, to sit and cower on the bed, hoping that the footsteps weren't coming for me. They grew louder and louder and soon stopped just in front of the door, and I held my breath, trying to make as little sound as possible. The door opened and a tall figure stood on the other side of the frame, his white hair a stark contrast to the darkness of the room behind him.
"Detective Hatake I-" My hand went reflexively to me throat, where the man who attacked me had kept his arm, blocking the air from entering my lungs. His voice rang through my head again, the memories coming back in flashes. I saw strands of that same white hair next to my face as the cloth was pressed against my face, remembering who I had gone to see, who had been the one behind this all.
I couldn't tell what emotion flashed on his face, his mask hiding everything as he leaned against the doorway, and my body shivered as he stared at me, wanting him to turn around and close the door and never come back.
But I knew that would never happen.
He crossed his arms as he spoke, still in the same position. "Come on now, you can call me Kakashi now. It's alright."
I sat there, still afraid to even breath.
"Go on, say it."
I shook my head, not wanting to give him anything he asked for.
His voice, that voice that I had heard so many times in the police station. His face, the one I had stared at as I cried, cried wondering why this man had targeted me, what he wanted with me. I had broken infront of him, all while it had been his fault.
"Hatake," I said to him, my voice laced with all the anger I could muster, despite my throat aching slightly when I spoke and cracking from fear.
I could see the shift in his eyes, as he removed himself from the doorway and walked over to me. He came to the side of the bed and I turned away, but that seemed to only make him angrier. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, and as I looked up his eyes were only inches away from mine.
"That's not what I told you to do," His grip tightened and he brought his face next to mine and I heard him breath in ever so slightly. I felt his face brush against my cheek and then move down to my neck. He seemed to be restraining himself, as I felt him get nearer and then pull away, only to repeat again. I tried to pull away but his grip changed and his nails began to dig in my skin at the resistance.
"Call me Kakashi," He muttered again. His breath on my skin sent shivers down my spine and my whole body jolted at the unfamiliar sensation. Even though my mind screamed no, my body was unused to the physical contact and responded in ways that I had not wanted it to.
"You'll learn, soon enough, that I don't-" His hand moved from my face to my neck, wrapping around it with ease, and he squeezed as he continued. "-Like having to ask twice."
I nodded my head, as much as I could with his hand still there, and he pulled back, looking at me expectantly.
"Kakashi," I had nothing to say to him, but he seemed satisfied enough to hear me voice his name. I could see his cheeks rise slighlty under the mask, as if he were smirking, but I couldn't tell.
"Oh my love, you have no idea how happy I am that you are finally within my grasp. I could never- never fully do what I wanted when you were in that house. When people were always watching." He sat down on the bed. "Here, I'll take these off if you promise not to try anything."
"I-I promise." I stated, not knowing if he could tell that I was lying or not.
"I promise?" He asked.
I resisted the urge to fight back, as I knew that the only way to build any trust was to play along. "I promise, Kakashi."
"Good, I knew you would be a fast learner, my love."
He untied the ropes and layed down next to me as I curled up my legs towards my chest, still sitting against the headboard. He brought his arm up and behind his head and stared at the cieling. I moved myself over to the edge of the bed as softly as possible, trying to stay away as far away from his as possible. My efforts were in vain, as nearly thirty seconds later, faster than should have been possible, Kakashi had my back pressed against him and his arm wrapped around my waiste, holding me in place. His face pressed into the back of my neck and his hot breath sent even stronger sensations down my back.
"You never used the perfume that I got you," He stated.
"I," I sat for a moment, thinking of what I could say next. "I was saving it for a special occasion, since it was so expensive."
"Nothing is to expensive for you, my darling dove."
"Kakashi," I felt him release yet another breath and my back arched slightly. I cursed myself for letting this actually get to me. "I have a question."
"What is it, my dove?" I felt his hand trace cirlces on my stomach.
I thought of that first day I had gone to the police station, when Kakashi had been so eager, or so I thought, to help me find whoever had broken into my house that very first time. I thought back to how I was almost ysterical at the thought of someone in my own home. How he had sat there, comforting me, tracing those same circles on my back. He had felt so comforting, so safe. I had trusted him with everything. I thought back to that same night, when I wondered what it would be like, to have that man, who I had to admit was a little attractive, doing those same cirlcles like he was now. I had indeed thought that under different circumstances, I would welcome the events that were happening now.
Very different circumstances.
But I still wondered, why.
"Why me? Why this? Why did you do everything, why scare me like this?" I began to shake as the memories hurridly trickled into my brain. The notes, the break ins, the fear, the stalking.
"I know it isn't- I know that this wasn't the way to go about it." He took his arm away from me and pulled his body away from mine, and I welcomed the cold that entered as he did so. But his words struck me, he had admitted, in a way, that he was wrong. Maybe there was a sane part of him still that I could reason with.
"Everything in my life has been taken away from me. As soon as I felt any love, any at all, it was gone. My father, he- he chose to leave this world. My best friend risked his life to save me, dying in the process, and the woman that I promised him I would protect, because he was in love with her, she died because of me too. I was so afraid that the same thing would happen to you, that I came up with this. I never wanted anyone or anything to hurt you. I tried to hold in my feelings, but they were too strong, and I started to leave the notes, just to tell you. I tried to stop, but the feelings just kept growing. And then I had to be near you. And then you seemed disgusted, and it made me angrier, it broke my heart. And I knew that I had messed it up.
"And then you came into the station. You were so scared and I saw a perfect ooportunity to help you, help you see that I could protect you, that I could be the one by your side. And you didn't see that. You were too blinded by the fear. And I knew I would just have to wait." He finished.
"But you don't even know me, I had never even met you!"
He looked at me, as if I had just said one of the saddest things anyone had ever told him.
"We went to the same shops, all the time. At first it was the grocer, then the pizza place down the street from your appartment, then the same cafe. Everywhere I went I would see you. You consumed my every thought, my very being. I saw how you interacted with everyone around you, even the bitchy barista. You were always kind, even when I could tell you were at your breaking point. And from there, you see where it went."
I layed there, still facing the wall, and he sitting up, his hands folded between his legs as he sat at the end of the bed. His words sank into me. He was a man who had an obsession. One born from love, possible. But an obsession none the less. There was a fear in his heart, of losing something, someone. And I understood, but that was no excuse.
"It's like there are two sides to me, one that trys to do everything right and then the other who goes crazy when it believes that what I want is being threatened. And I just can't control it. But it got me what I wanted, it got me you, my darling." He turned back around and looked at me. "I hope soon enough, you learn to love me too. Life will be more pleasurable for the both of us if you do," With that he got up and walked out of the door.
I heard the locks latch, so many locks. I looked around the room, finally raking in my surroundings. There were no windows, but there was another door. I walked over to it to see a small bathroom, but still no windows. That had to be in violations of some kind of code, and certainly made my escape much more difficult. But as I thought more, realized that there was a part of me that wasn't sure I wanted to escape.
A very, very, very small part. One that shouldn't even have any say in what I did, not even a little.
But after he had said those things, there was something in me that felt sorry for him. Those thoughts of him that I had felt for only a moment after meeting him, they resurfaced.
No, what am I THINKING? This man has tortured me and stalked me for nearly six months, and I begin to think that he is HOT? This is not how this is supposed to go.
And how could I forget that he had so easliy attacked my friends. He had no worries about being one to hurt people who got close to me, and who knows who else he could have hurt already.
More thoughts ran through my mind. But he hadn't ever actually done anything to me. He was broken, sure. But, he had had plenty of chances to do whatever he wanted to me. Even only moments before, he could have done whatever he wanted. And he didn't.
He would send flowers to my mother.
Get me gifts he knew I would want.
Leave (semi) sweet notes.
And... then break in to leave them.
It was like my mind was trying to find all of the ways that this man could be seen in a good light. But why? Why must my mind do this to me?!
I sat for a moment, finally coming to my senses. Deep down inside, he was broken and didn't know how to handle it. And him being broken was not my problem.
