Page 145 of Invisible Bars
I opened the box slowly, careful as if it might break under my fingers. Inside sat the newest iPhone—still wrapped in its factory plastic, screen so pristine it looked like it hadn’t even breathed air yet. Beneath it were the charger, cord, little Apple stickers, and a black glitter case with gold trim.
It was beautiful… and pink—my favorite color.
“All you gotta do is set it up,” Imanio said, clearly pleased with himself, like he was proud to be able to do something that made me smile.
I nodded, eyes still lingering on the phone. I placed the box on the bed. Then—without warning—I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him.
It wasn’t slow or shy; it was impulsive and honest.
“Thank you… for getting me a phone. You d-d-don’t know how much this means.”
Imanio’s body stiffened for half a second, like I’d surprised him—I was sure I had. Maybe he hadn’t been hugged like that in a long time—genuinely, not out of fear or need, but out of gratitude.
Then… his arms came around me.
Slow at first, but strong. Imanio’s scent—clean cologne, leather, and something darker—filled my head. His warmth poured into me like hot tea in the middle of winter. His hand didn’t pat me or rub my back. He just held me. I didn’t want to let go, but I did.
I pulled back quickly.
Imanio eyes met mine, unreadable again. But something lingered in them… something soft. Something that made me think… maybe I wasn’t the only one changing.
“I figured I’d bring you something else too.”
Imanio reached into one of the bags and pulled out a weighted blanket, a lavender-scented stress balm, and even a small adult coloring book with fancy gel pens.
“You mentioned once that weighted things help calm your system down during bad days,” he added.
I stared, overwhelmed. My chest tightened—but not in the usual way. I didn't say it, but in that moment, I started seeing him in a different light; not just the kidnapper-turned-house-provider, but someone who wastryingand saw me.
Imanio didn’t wait for a thank you; he just nodded toward the hallway.
“I was gonna ask… you wanna maybe watch a movie or twotogetherlater on.”
I blinked erratically. “A… movie?”
“Yeah. That is, unless you got a bedtime or something.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully.
He chuckled. “I just figured you might wanna get out this room for a while and clear your head. We don’t have to leave the house. I got a theater inside the crib.”
“Y-You do?”
Imanio smirked. “Yeah. Big screen, surround sound, seats that recline… all that good shit. Although Dess is the only one who takes advantage of the room.”
“Uh, o-okay. But what kind of movie?” I asked carefully.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Whatever you’re into.”
I shifted on my feet, tugging my towel tighter around me. “H-Horror.”
That made him raise a brow.
“Horror? You? The girl who twitches and yells out random shit like ‘Stop tickling my kneecaps, devil!’ Wants to watch demonic possession and serial killers?”
“I didn’t say demonic,” I clarified quickly, trying not to laugh. “I saidhorror.T-There’s a difference.”
To my surprise, he grinned—really grinned, like something I said caught him off guard.
