On My Own [Tag: No One]
May 24, 2020 6:34:04 GMT
Post by Cassim ben Ishak on May 24, 2020 6:34:04 GMT
Two weeks. Two long, painful weeks he'd been in that small room trapped with Dorian. The nights were cold and with no blankets and the fact that Cassim didn't trust himself not to, ahem, "cuddle" with Dorian during the night had only made his insomnia worse. Though he never really minded sleeping on the rug, he hated how sore his joints became and how much he wanted nothing more than a proper shower. With soaps, a razor, fresh towels... Though he was thankful for that one days worth of food. Even if it meant at the cost of losing Dorian's precious black locks.
Then there was knowing that Della was alive. Well, considering what she'd gone through, that is... At least Katherine was there to look after her. He only hoped that the both of them would be able to comfort the other.
Yet as another night fell and Cassim stared out the window hopelessly, he couldn't help but feel the air around him become sickeningly sweet.
His eyes widened. The gas. He tried to reach out, say something to Dorian-- but it was too late. Already he could feel the tug of his eyelids slipping closed, his body becoming limp. Hands reached out to the younger man in vain, using every last ounce of willpower he had left to stay awake.
Don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep, DON'T--
The darkness swallowed him whole. For the first time in what felt like eternity Cassim finally slept. Not comfortably, but enough that when he finally came to, he was suddenly aware that his surroundings had... Very drastically changed. For starters, he was laying on an actual couch. A little small for him but enough that he could just comfortably lay down without feeling too cramped. The room was actually... well, beautiful. If he didn't know any better he would have thought he was in an actual hotel on a business trip. Though his dirty clothes was a sad reminder that he was in fact still a prisoner.
Moving to sit up, he examined all the corners of the room. Sure enough he saw the cameras again. Yet as the drugs slowly began to wear off, he began to feel frustration bubble in him. Why? Why did they suddenly have a change of heart and put him here? Did they think starving him for two weeks and suddenly playing nice would make him more cooperative? And what about--
"Dorian," Cassim breathed in realization. He staggered onto his feet and began to walk around the other side of the beds. Checked the closet. The bathrooms... Dorian was gone. Cassim was truly and utterly alone.
Hands ran through his hair as he tried to process everything. What if they had done to Kamala to Dorian? Was he still alive? What about Della and Katherine? What were their fates in all of this?
Am I next?
Moving back into the main room, he went to the door. Sure enough it was similar to the same one he'd been locked in with Dorian. No point in trying open it... All he could do now is sit and wait. Yet his eyes looked down at his hands. The sleeve around his hand was dark and stained with his blood. And his hair felt oily, and the grime on his skin made him almost shudder... The room itself was nice, and the bathroom had looked just as fine. It... surely wouldn't hurt...
Sure enough his theory had proven correct. After he stripped he slipped inside and nearly moaned when the hot water washed over his bronze skin. Soap. Actual soap rested in the corner for him! Shampoo too!
Cassim might have been an entire hour in the shower. Maybe two. He wasn't sure. But by the time he had finished, the hot water had slowly been turning cold and steam had filled the entire bathroom so thickly that he could just barely see what was in front of him. He honestly felt like a brand new man. Opening the door to the bathroom he let the steam air out, wiping off the mirror to properly see his reflection. Although he looked better, the dark circles were still somewhat visible beneath his eyes. As well as his beard being slightly more unkempt beard than he remembered.
He began opening drawers, looking inside. He was grateful to find a razor. Perhaps his kidnappers were somewhat sensible. It took a little while, but once he felt he'd been properly groomed, he wrapped a towel around his waist and wandered back into the main room. He was alone... And there was a bed... Cassim glanced up at the cameras. No doubt they were still watching him. They had probably already seen plenty of him now. But it still made his face burn at the thought that he was spied on. Still. If they had put him here, he might as well take advantage of it while he could.
Fingers reached out and gently ran across the silver sheets before him. It seemed like an eternity he had slept in a bed... Pulling the sheets back, he let the towel fall to the ground as he slipped beneath the sheets. It was so soft... So comfortable... Perhaps, just maybe, he'd finally get a peaceful sleep...
Then there was knowing that Della was alive. Well, considering what she'd gone through, that is... At least Katherine was there to look after her. He only hoped that the both of them would be able to comfort the other.
Yet as another night fell and Cassim stared out the window hopelessly, he couldn't help but feel the air around him become sickeningly sweet.
His eyes widened. The gas. He tried to reach out, say something to Dorian-- but it was too late. Already he could feel the tug of his eyelids slipping closed, his body becoming limp. Hands reached out to the younger man in vain, using every last ounce of willpower he had left to stay awake.
Don't fall asleep, don't fall asleep, DON'T--
The darkness swallowed him whole. For the first time in what felt like eternity Cassim finally slept. Not comfortably, but enough that when he finally came to, he was suddenly aware that his surroundings had... Very drastically changed. For starters, he was laying on an actual couch. A little small for him but enough that he could just comfortably lay down without feeling too cramped. The room was actually... well, beautiful. If he didn't know any better he would have thought he was in an actual hotel on a business trip. Though his dirty clothes was a sad reminder that he was in fact still a prisoner.
Moving to sit up, he examined all the corners of the room. Sure enough he saw the cameras again. Yet as the drugs slowly began to wear off, he began to feel frustration bubble in him. Why? Why did they suddenly have a change of heart and put him here? Did they think starving him for two weeks and suddenly playing nice would make him more cooperative? And what about--
"Dorian," Cassim breathed in realization. He staggered onto his feet and began to walk around the other side of the beds. Checked the closet. The bathrooms... Dorian was gone. Cassim was truly and utterly alone.
Hands ran through his hair as he tried to process everything. What if they had done to Kamala to Dorian? Was he still alive? What about Della and Katherine? What were their fates in all of this?
Am I next?
Moving back into the main room, he went to the door. Sure enough it was similar to the same one he'd been locked in with Dorian. No point in trying open it... All he could do now is sit and wait. Yet his eyes looked down at his hands. The sleeve around his hand was dark and stained with his blood. And his hair felt oily, and the grime on his skin made him almost shudder... The room itself was nice, and the bathroom had looked just as fine. It... surely wouldn't hurt...
Sure enough his theory had proven correct. After he stripped he slipped inside and nearly moaned when the hot water washed over his bronze skin. Soap. Actual soap rested in the corner for him! Shampoo too!
Cassim might have been an entire hour in the shower. Maybe two. He wasn't sure. But by the time he had finished, the hot water had slowly been turning cold and steam had filled the entire bathroom so thickly that he could just barely see what was in front of him. He honestly felt like a brand new man. Opening the door to the bathroom he let the steam air out, wiping off the mirror to properly see his reflection. Although he looked better, the dark circles were still somewhat visible beneath his eyes. As well as his beard being slightly more unkempt beard than he remembered.
He began opening drawers, looking inside. He was grateful to find a razor. Perhaps his kidnappers were somewhat sensible. It took a little while, but once he felt he'd been properly groomed, he wrapped a towel around his waist and wandered back into the main room. He was alone... And there was a bed... Cassim glanced up at the cameras. No doubt they were still watching him. They had probably already seen plenty of him now. But it still made his face burn at the thought that he was spied on. Still. If they had put him here, he might as well take advantage of it while he could.
Fingers reached out and gently ran across the silver sheets before him. It seemed like an eternity he had slept in a bed... Pulling the sheets back, he let the towel fall to the ground as he slipped beneath the sheets. It was so soft... So comfortable... Perhaps, just maybe, he'd finally get a peaceful sleep...