***
He looked at her as she sat staring at the floor. He was very disturbed by the fact that she wasn't very scared of him. He wanted her to be scared but how was he to do that?
"Reminds me," he said suddenly. "I never asked for your name. What is it?"
"Mona," she answered. "What's yours?"
"Arwin," he said. "But mama gave me that name and I hate her so don't call me that. Call me Zed."
"Okay," she nodded. "Zed, you're not really that good at kidnapping are you?"
"Why?"
"Because I know your name and what you look like so if I ever run away you could be arrested within seconds," she said realistically. "And you don't sound as if you're lying."
"Even if I throw you out I doubt you'd go," he wiped his forehead. "You're very weird."
"I'm so sorry for being weird…" her tiny little body started shaking and he sighed heavily.
"Don't cry I'm tired today," he sounded exhausted. "Wait could this be what's known as Stockholm syndrome?"
"But I'm not in love with you," she rejected the idea.
"True," he nodded in agreement. "And you've been acting this way since the moment you've met me. Let me ask Ray if he knows something."
"Who's that?" she asked as he dialed Ray's number.
"A friend, he assists me in stuff like these," he answered. "Hello yes… do you think something like Stockholm syndrome at first sight exists?...no?...okay, I'll see you later."
"What did he say?"
"He said it is possible but I doubt that's the case here," he answered. She thought for a second and then started, "Arwin I…"
"What did you say?" his voice went incredibly low. She got goosebumps just hearing it. "I…I'm sorry…"
She tried to remember the name he said he preferred but in her panic forgot it totally. He noticed her helplessness and then dragged his chair to hers and sat facing her. They were so close that their knees almost brushed. He took out the knife and pressed the cold blade against her wrist.
"Here I will write it for you," he started writing in her arm with the blade, drawing out blood as the letters formed. "So you never forget."
She winced and let out a gasp as the knife dug into her skin and he smiled. Finally she was hurting, he thought.
"Hurts right?"
She turned her hand a little so it was visible to her and upon sight of it she let out a soft gasp.
"Horrified?"
"Your handwriting is beautiful," she said and he nodded.
"So I've been told." He recalled the days at the boarding school he'd been in and shook his head. Awful days.
"It's almost like a tattoo," she remarked and he looked at the writing. It was cursive and indeed looked like a tattoo made in blood.
"Now I've got a tattoo of your name embedded in my hand~" she teased and he blushed and looked away. "Ah it's bleeding."
"Right," he wiped the blood away with tissues and eventually wrapped her arm in gauge. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Exactly," she said with disappointment lacing her voice. "Now you can't just discard my body anywhere as you please. That was a foolish move."
"Or I could just cut your arm and then burn it," he reasoned.
"Ouch," she said in a monotone voice with a straight expression. "I do think that's a realistic approach to this situation though. Or you can just burn my body entirely."
"You know it's your body we're talking about," he frowned. "Shouldn't you be a little more… ugh you know what never mind." He looked away. "You're creepy."
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