–Say It Like You Mean It
Aurora's POV
---
I stayed curled on the bed long after he left.
The ring sat like a snake on the floor, silver and silent. It looked harmless. Pretty, even.
Just like he did.
I stared at the door, expecting it to swing open again.
But it didn't.
No food tray.
No footsteps.
No noise.
Just silence.
He was doing it on purpose.
Letting the silence rot me.
---
By the next morning, I was dizzy. My stomach ached. My mouth was dry.
He hadn't fed me.
When the door finally opened, it creaked like a warning. I looked up.
Damien stepped in wearing the same calm expression. Too calm.
In his hands — a silver tray.
Breakfast.
"I don't want it," I said immediately.
He set it down on the nightstand.
"You will."
"No."
"You'll eat," he said simply, "because if you don't, I'll put it in through a tube. Or worse—I'll feed you like an animal."
I froze.
"You wouldn't."
"I would," he said. "But let's not test that today."
---
I didn't eat. Not then.
But by nightfall, the dizziness turned into vomiting bile. My hands trembled.
When he came in again, he didn't say a word. Just sat across from me and watched.
"Tell me why you're doing this," I whispered.
He tilted his head slightly. "Because I love you."
"This isn't love."
He leaned forward. "Then show me what love is."
I stared at him. Then slowly… very slowly… I whispered:
"Love doesn't chain people to beds."
He smirked. "Correction. My love does."
---
The next day, I woke up on the floor.
No blanket. Just the cold tiles.
I didn't even remember how I got there.
But the tray was gone.
So was the ring.
Replaced with a note:
> "You'll say it eventually. And when you do, it better be real."
---
Later that evening, he brought in a dress.
White. Silk. Clean neckline. Slit up the side.
"Put it on."
"No."
He walked closer.
"You're going to dinner with me."
"Is it an order or a threat?"
"It's a promise."
---
He gave me five minutes.
I stood frozen for three.
Then I took the dress, locked myself in the bathroom, and stared at the mirror.
I looked like a prisoner.
Even dressed like a queen.
---
Dinner was in a chandelier-lit room that looked like a hotel restaurant.
Just the two of us.
Soft jazz playing.
He poured me wine. I didn't drink it.
He held up a toast.
"To my wife."
I didn't clink glasses.
His smile didn't fade.
---
"You look beautiful," he said.
I looked away.
"Say thank you."
"No."
"Aurora."
Silence.
He leaned closer. "Say it."
"…Thank you."
"Now say, 'I'm yours.'"
I turned to him sharply. "No."
His smile faltered for the first time.
Then he stood.
Walked around the table.
Gripped the back of my chair.
And leaned down until his mouth was beside my ear.
"You'll say it," he whispered, "even if I have to beat it into your soul."
---
Author's Note 🥂
Queen checking in 🗣️
So uhm. Yeah. That was lighthearted and healthy, right?? 😭
Damien: "Say I'm yours."
Aurora: "I'd rather choke on air."
THIS IS WHY I LOVE HER.
But babes... this man is cooking up something darker.
Should Aurora poison him next? Escape in stilettos? Or punch him in the 👁️?
Drop your hate-love comments below 😭