It had been roughly over an hour now.

I knew because I’d counted every drag of breath, every tick of silence that stretched between us.

Coban had passed out t on the bed without a word, arms tucked up behind his head, breathing slow and steady like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like I wasn’t three feet away trying not to breathe too loud in case it pissed him off in his sleep…

The ck chair beneath me was hard and cold, and the longer I sat still, the more every muscle in my back screamed for mercy. But I didn’t dare move too much. Not even to fully shift in to a morefortable position. The tension in the room felt too fragile. Like one wrong twitch and he’d snap awake, throw something, say something, do something.

But God fucking help me, I really had to pee.

But going above the full ache in my dder, was the fear of waking the monster.

I kept my hands folded in myp, legs squeezed tight together, eyes focused on counting the different tattoos that I could see on one of Coban’s arms using anything to help distract myself.

I thought that maybe if I sat here long enough, the urge would fade. But it didn’t. Not yet.

As more time passed, with the feeling now growingpletely unbearable, I jumped nearly ten feet in the air when a sudden, thunderous knock mmed against the metal door.

Our door.

Coban stirred with a deep, guttural groan, his arm flinging over his face as he blinked up at the ceiling, dazed.

“What the fuck is it now?” he barked, rolling upright with the kind of groggy aggression that made my palms sweat.

He staggered toward the door, still barefoot, still in nothing but those ck boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.

His muscles flexed with every movement, and I hated myself for noticing…

The guard’s voice filtered through from the other side of the steel. “We’ve got the girl’s stuff.”

There was a loud buzz – followed by a heavy click as the lock disengaged and the door creaked open.

This is my chance…

I shot up from the chair, too fast, almost dizzy with the sudden movement. “I’m just going to use the bathroom quickly,” I blurted, voice high and thin, like a balloon about to pop.

It got his attention. His eyes dragged toward me, dark and unreadable.

“I’m not putting your shit away for you,” he muttered, brushing past me as if I were a ghost.

I didn’t want him to?

The guards entered the room, each holding a box sorge it looked like they were carrying pieces of a coffin. They set them down with a grunt, cardboard thudding against carpet.

I slipped into the bathroom like a shadow, but not before I heard one of the guards mutter under their breath, “Surprised to see you’ve kept the girl in one piece.”

Coban chuckled back in response. Cold. t.

“It’s only day one.” He retorted bluntly.

I froze, stomach lurching.

Only day one.

I closed the door and locked it with trembling fingers, the click echoing through the small space like a hymn. For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt a sliver of safety.

Pathetic, considering how thin the door was, but still – it was something. It had a lock.

I rushed to the toilet, barely getting there in time, and finally exhaled a shaky breath. Relief swept through me, followed by the slow return of rity. It was the first moment I’d had alone since stepping into this hellhole. Just me, four walls, and my pounding heart.

As I cleaned up and flushed, I allowed myself to finally take in the new surroundings.

in. Functional. Not luxurious, but not the horror show I’d expected either. It was more than fine.

There was a surprisinglyrge walk–in shower tucked in the corner, a mounted gel soap dispenser stuck to the wall above the taps. The scent of whatever was inside it was vaguely citrus clean, at least. A toilet that was brand new. A small, narrow sink with two white cabs underneath and a mirrored one above.

–

I reached for the top cab and swung it open, half–expecting to find nothing, but was met instead with a few surprises.

A ck toothbrush

Coban’s, I assumed – rested beside a half–used tube of toothpaste. Next to it was a brand new, still–wrapped pink toothbrush. I frowned at it.

Pink.

I could already hear Coban’s voiceining about its colour despite this time, I hadn’t even picked it.

I moved on, quickly cataloging what else was inside. A bottle of 2–in–1 shampoo and conditioner, a spray can of girls‘ deodorant, a matching male one, a pack of sanitary pads, and four neatly folded towels. White.

Clean.

It was strange. A little too… prepared.

As if they knew exactly what we’d need. Like this whole thing had been done a thousand times before already.

But it hasn’t.

We were the first ones.

I closed the cab slowly, turning to check the lower ones. More toilet paper. A sealed pack of wipes. No razors.

Of course.

Because why would they give convicted men – and the women forced to live with them — that could be used as a weapon?

–

Still, I frowned. Was I just expected to grow out like a damn cactus? I bit my lip, adding that to the long mental list of things I’d have to ask someone about. At least before my hair grewpletely out of control!

I nced at the small window above the sink – cracked open, letting in a whisper of fresh air through metal bars that looked welded in for eternity.

I sighed and turned to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me like someone I barely knew.

Hair tangled. Eyes hollow. My skin still pale and tired, but the bruise on my neck was thankfully still hidden well beneath the concealer.

Realising that I’d been in here a little too long now, I turned toward the door, unlocked it, and stepped out before running myself directly into Coban’s solid chest.

“Shit!” I gasped, stumbling to the side, arms flying up to brace myself before Inded on my ass in a heap at his feet.

He didn’t even flinch. Just looked down at me with narrowed eyes. “That was a weak attempt to try knock me over?” He raises a brow down at me.

–

I swallowed hard, trying to speak past the panic now bubbling in my throat. “No, sorry I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were-”

He raised a hand, cutting me off. “Rx. It’s not like it hurt. I wasing to hurry you up because I need to piss!”

I scrambled up to my feet before I stepped around him quickly, offering another small ‘sorry‘ as I passed – allowing him in to the bathroom.

The boxes sat untouched on the floor, and I crouched beside them, flipping one open.

stic packages containing my new grey uniforms. Anotherrge package seemingly filled with a variety of fresh underwear. One package reading ‘sleepwear‘. One containing socks. Thest package being a fluffy beige nket, I’m guessing to make me feel somewhat cosier in here?

Crazy.

The second box had other things. A hairbrush. More makeuppacts simr to the one the man had let me use on the ship. Hair ties. Beige fluffy slippers matching the shade of the nket. in white slides. Lastly, a notepad and penbelled ‘prisoner notes‘.

They’d really thought of everything, huh?

Or so I hoped…