I heard footsteps, and I looked up to see him returning with a tray in his hands. My stomach growled as the scent of steak filled the air, and I struggled to sit up. It was hard with the cuff, but I managed to prop myself up. I wasn’t going to be able to eat like that, but I doubted he was going to let me eat on my own anyway.
He set the tray down at the foot of the bed then came over to me, unlocking the cuff and tossing the handcuffs back into the dresser drawer. I rubbed at my reddened wrist, murmuring, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, offering me a hopeful little smile.
I couldn’t reward him with anything reassuring, not that time, and the smile faded almost as soon as it had appeared.
He ducked his head, looking properly chagrined, and I didn’t know what to make of his behavior. He seemed so fuckingsad, and I was the cause of it — but I shouldn’t havecared, because he’d more than made me sad. He’d sent me into a spiral of depression and worse, until I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to come out of it in one piece.
Then again, I didn’t think I was whole anyway, not anymore.
“I’d like to feed you, if that’s okay,” he said softly. He retrieved the tray from the end of the bed, bringing the source of those delicious smells closer to me and making my mouth water.
His words, though, caught me off guard. He wanted to feed me? That wasn’t new. What was new was him asking. If I disagreed, what would he do?
“I can’t let you use silverware,” he said, his voice still subdued.
I realized he hadn’t brought in a fork or a knife and that all the meat was neatly cubed, with the vegetables in bite-sized pieces. He picked up a piece of the steak and popped it into his mouth.
Medium rare, just how I liked it.
He looked so pathetic, and I hated how my first instinct was to soothe him — not even because I was afraid of what he might do, but because he just looked pitiful and I didn’t like it. I’d seen him laugh, and it had been such a welcome change from everything else.
I wished I could laugh again.
I wished I could even smile.
“Yeah,” I said roughly before I could even think about it. “It’s okay.”
Was it really?
He smiled at me, and I envied him for that small action. What would it take to make me smile again? I didn’t even know if it was possible, not anymore.
He grabbed another piece of meat and pressed it againstmy lips. I parted them, letting him put the bite into my mouth even though I wasn’t sure why.
I could sure as fuck feed myself, and I’d had the perfect chance to.
I chewed the tender piece of meat and swallowed, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on in my own head. He offered me a bite of cauliflower, and I took that too, savoring the taste. It was buttered to perfection, just enough to enhance the taste. Like the steak, it was cooked perfectly, neither too hard nor too soft.
It annoyed me that I’d been stuck with things like tuna and milk so often.
But he hadn’t seen me as anything but a pet, something lesser.
Now…
Now he seemed to think of me as more, and it was almost like his own bad behavior had spurred on the realization. That was all I could think of, because it made no sense for him to have such a rapid turnaround otherwise.
Another bite, then another, and before I knew it, I was shaking my head because I was too full to eat any more. It was strange to feel that way, and it was stranger still to feel content in the wake of a meal. This was the first time I felt relaxed and comfortable, sleepy even as the food settled in my stomach.
“Good, Toby,” he murmured. “You did well.”
The praise had always meant he wasn’t going to hurt me before, but now it felt like something different. Now I couldn’t figure out what the fuck it meant, but it was something…
New.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He watched me for a moment then finished off the food,setting it back on the tray. “Cuffs, or do you want to come with me to the kitchen?” he asked, running a finger along my lips.
