Chapter 3 #4
“See?” The guard called loud enough for Ren to look up. “You’re fatter than any other prisoner in this place! You don’t need all of this food. I’m helping you.”
Ren ignored the tears welling up, not knowing if they were from frustration, hunger, or maybe a bit of both. He refused to let the Alphas see how his hands shook. He stared at them blankly, gaze clouded over.
He just needed to wait for Falk to come back—he would help, he would make things better. He would get Ren food, he would get him new clothes, he would take care of him.
Ren wasn’t sure how long it was until Falk appeared again. He curled up on his side, his arms wrapped around himself, shivering, when he saw Falk walk into his line of sight. At first, he thought he might have been dreaming of the Alpha, but then he spoke: “Ren? What happened?”
Ren’s arms hung limply by his side, his palms numb.
He tightened his fingers into fists to keep them from shaking as he looked down at the scattered food on the floor without truly seeing it.
Droplets dripped from his sopping hair onto his skin.
“Nothing,” he whispered once he got his mouth to open.
Falk’s entire body went rigid at that. “What do you mean nothing? Ren, I can see?—”
“Nothing happened,” Ren murmured, shaking his head. “I-I dropped it, it’s fine—” He stooped down to his knees, reaching out to grab the cold, mushy food that had fallen. He tried to push it onto the plate, but there were too many little pieces that kept rolling away from him.
“Ren,” Falk snapped, making Ren flinch back, his breath held in his chest. “Stop, just… I’ll go get you some food and new clothes and I’ll find something to clean this up,” he said.
Ren wanted to tell him to stay, wanted to ask him to bring Ren with him—let him out of here even if it was for a short time. He didn’t want to be down here, alone, if those guards came back again.
But Falk was true to his word, and returned with a plate piled high with food, and a bundle of fresh clothes under one arm.
Ren wasn’t surprised the Alpha was helping him, but he was surprised when Falk pulled the keys off of his belt loop and opened the door to Ren’s cell.
The door hadn’t been opened since his trial. His hand cuffs had been taken off a while ago, and he was free to move around as he wanted, but even when he tested and tried the door, it didn’t seem like it would budge without a key. He had given up hope of it ever opening again.
There was a heavy, suddenly tense moment between them, when Falk realized that fact at the same moment Ren did.
He stood in the doorway; Ren would have to get past him if he wanted to run.
Falk watched him carefully, not breaking eye contact with him as he stepped forward and handed Ren the new clothes.
Ren’s eyes flicked back and forth between the bundle and the open doorway. When he thought his legs were going to make the decision for him and jump forward, he shivered violently, remembering that he was completely bare besides his undershorts and socks.
He snatched the clothes out of Falk’s grasp, realizing there were more than just a few pieces; he had brought Ren three sweaters and two pairs of pants, all of which smelt strongly like the Alpha.
The idea of Falk running to his wardrobe to bring Ren his own clothes made a small smile play on his lips as he pulled the sweater on.
Falk was still watching him when Ren looked up after tugging the pants onto his hips and the sweater down over them. He was a bit swamped by the clothes, which was absurd since the Alpha was hardly that much taller than him.
“What?” he asked when Falk’s gaze stayed latched on his waist. Ren tried to track where he was staring, “are you looking at my dick?”
Falk’s eyes immediately lifted and the crease between his eyebrows deepened, “Of course I wasn’t.”
“Interesting,” Ren hummed, “cause my eyes are up here,” he said, smiling and pointing to his face.
Falk blinked at him slowly, his pinched expression softening as he shook his head. “Are those clothes okay?”
“Very,” Ren grinned, wrapping his arms around himself. “Very warm.”
“Okay,” Falk nodded. He finally handed Ren the plate of food alongside a towel to clean up the cell. Ren’s grin widened even more, mouth salivating at the smells. “Eat up, I’m going to go speak with someone about what happened here.”
Ren blinked at him, anxiety crawling up his throat, “Talk to someone? About what happened?” His mind turned over everything he had done that day, of anything that he could be punished for.
“Of course, my commander should know about how those guards treated you today.”
“Nothing happened,” Ren repeated, shaking his head.
“Right,” Falk muttered. He stepped back out of the cell, hesitating for a moment before shutting it gently. He didn’t look at Ren as he locked it again, didn’t say anything as he turned on his heel and marched back up the stairs, a furious scowl on his face.
Ren frowned and sat down with his plate. He couldn’t think about Falk’s reaction—about how he hesitated to lock him up again—for too long as hunger punched him in the stomach over and over. He barely tasted the food as he chewed it.