Jack had himself halfway into the room when he realized you weren't in the bed. He looked startled; his shoulders had tensed and his arms came up like he was going to try and catch you. His head turned from side to side, tilted out a bit, and you were confused as to what he was doing until he coughed.

Is he sniffing me out?

You shuddered and clenched the book you were holding close to your chest, sucking in a breath. His head immediately whipped over to where you were standing.

He spoke slowly, his voice low—almost warning.

"What were you doing, pet?"

Pet. There was that word again. You almost preferred angel to pet.

You responded carefully and quietly, almost as you would talk to a pissed off bear when there was nowhere to run.

"I...I was just looking at your books, do you have any that aren't braille?"

He stepped fully into the room, stood straight, and let the door fall shut. You could see a bulge in the pocket of his sweatshirt, and your stomach growled at the thought of food. You hadn't realized how hungry you were, you were so distracted with trying to come up with a plan.

"I can get some when I go out next. Until then, I'm all you've got. Eat this," he said, and tossed you an apple he had taken out of his pocket. It was hardly anything, but you figured your appetite would be significantly diminished by your current predicament.

It wasn't until you took a bite and swallowed that you thought to be apprehensive.

Who takes that long to get a piece of fruit?

Is the walk that long?

Did he do something to it?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by his dark, raspy laugh.

"Relax, angel, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

He stepped toward you, and you tensed thinking that he was going to attack you or grab you and drag you to the bed again. But he just stood next to you and raised his hand to the shelf right at his eye level, brushing his finger over the spines. He was calm, you could tell – his back was relaxed and his neck was mildly slouched over.

"Have you been, um..." You hesitated, not wanting to piss him off more than you already seemed to be able to do with a couple of words.

He turned to you and sighed, then coughed.

"Blind? You can say it. I know what it is."

He turned back toward the shelf and continued to browse.

"Sorry. Have you been blind for your whole life?"

His hand stopped dead.

Shit.

"No, there was an...incident in college. It's not important." His voice was stern, and a bit sad, but by no means angry at you for speaking. You decided you should be able to push it a little, and turned to face him fully.

"Is the incident why you won't show me your face?"

He turned to you slowly, then, and you knew you had gone too far. It was only a millisecond of looking into his eyes later that he sprung at you and wrapped his hand around your throat and shoved you into the wall behind you.

He crowded you against the wall with his hips and legs. He was bent over you, encompassing all of your vision. If he didn't have his mask on, you knew that you would have been breathing his air. He brought his head close to your ear and whispered to you in a deep growl.

"Believe me, pet," He said, placing emphasis on the word like he knew how uncomfortable it would make you, "You do not want to see this face." He released you at the end of his sentence, and you crumpled to the floor. There were black spots across your vision, and you struggled to find your breath as your hands scrabbled across the floor. You brought your knees closer to your chest and curled into a ball, trying your best to protect yourself.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and you raised your head to see that Jack had squatted down in front of you. Your head was still fuzzy, and you didn't notice that one of his hands was in the air until you felt a sharp jab to the side of your neck.

As you started to go foggy, you looked up at Jack.

"Pet, I did say I'd never hurt you. Decided to put you to sleep first – you'll wake up in an hour or so."

And, with that, your vision went black.