Page 109 of Petite Fleur

It’s not surprising, but it is irritating that the professor stops with any pleasantries after my girl’s little outburst. She switches to doing the bare minimum required of her.

Good.

I’d hate to have to pay this woman a visit and embarrass her in front of her entire class.

I’d hate to have to drag Maeve in there and fuck her senseless on top of this woman’s desk, but I will if she opens her mouth again.

I keep an eye on Maeve while she takes her exams, but I stretch out on the couch and give my leg a rest, but I won’t take my leg off. I want to be able to jump up and get her anything she could need. I also want to insist she switch seats with me when she starts her next break.

I doubt she’ll say yes, but it’s worth a try.

By the time the sun is starting to set, Maeve still has two finals left and rubs her temples every chance she gets. She’s clearly feeling a little sore, and I doubt the medicine I gave her for a headache earlier is still helping.

“How about you move back over to the couch? It’s more comfortable and you have some better back support.” I suggest.

She looks up at me and takes a quick sip of her water, but shakes her head in protest. “I’m fine, really. Rest your leg.” She insists.

I don’t know if something is finally shifting and she cares about me or if she is just such a good person that she feels guilty whenever she sees my bruised leg.

Either way, I feel like it’s a step in the right direction.

I stand up and take my laptop from her. “How about we compromise? You come finish your exams on the couch while I make something for dinner?” I suggest instead.

I don't know if I trust her not to tell the professor what's happening here, but I also just want to be near her in case she needs me. Once she starts an exam, she's not allowed to get up or leave the view of the camera for any amount of time. So I can grab her things while she's testing if she asks me to.

Maeve looks at me nervously, but she stands up.

I don't know when this professor will join us at her computer again, so I can't say anything that may hint at our unique situation. "I looked up everything about celiac, I will not hurt you again. That is a promise, ma fleur. Can you give me a little of that trust again?" I ask her.

I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. She stiffens, but she doesn't push me away or say anything about the embrace which I honestly love, maybe she is warming up to me.

"I can try." She finally answers.

Chapter 42

Maeve Henderson

Over the last couple of weeks, it’s felt easier to be around Leon. I don’t know if it’s because he told me about his mom, he took care of me during my period, or just because I’ve gotten used to being here, but I can’t complain.

It was, however, embarrassing as heck that he had to see me like that. I tried to hide it, but I was bleeding too heavily to even get off the toilet, let alone to act like a civilized human.

So I was stuck in place the entire day. I sat on the toilet for so long that my legs went numb and my butt had a ring from the toilet seat, again, embarrassing. But I was so scared of ruining his floors or furniture.

I spent the entire day anxious and nervous for Leon’s reaction to find out that I was on my period, but I was pleasantly surprised that it was exactly the opposite of what I anticipated.

He was by my side the entire evening. Sure I was alone when I woke up and shamefully, I missed having him there, but I know I at least fell asleep on him before he snuck off.

I would complain, but I refuse to let him make assumptions about my willingness to be here. And he did sort of take the entire next day off of work to stay home and take care of me.

Maybe it’s a blessing and a curse that my periods are so severe yet so short. I cramp so badly that I want to curl into a ball and cry, but it’s over in a couple of days, and I’m left gaslighting myself into believing that it’s never really as bad as it was.

This period, however, I don’t think I can tell myself that it wasn’t that bad. I think I’d rather remember it as being awful than to admit that Leon holding me was welcomed as more than just a necessity to ease my discomfort.

It really helps that he hasn't said any more subtle digs at the fact that I'm a prisoner with a shock collar since our dinner, too. I'm frustrated at the same time that I'm happy. I shouldn't be getting along with my captor, I should be looking for a way to sneak his phone out of his hand and call the police, but I haven't even tried that once since he's taken me and I can't even logically explain why.

I'm telling myself that I am just desperate to be treated like someone who matters for once in my life, that for once I am not the quiet girl with the annoying restrictions that follows Carlie and Sean everywhere.

Leon might be my kidnapper, but he actually treats me like I am someone, it's sick I know. I just need him to say something cold like he did the last few times, something to snap me back into my sane mind.

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