IAN
My throat felt as dry as a desert when I woke up. Disoriented, I sat up and immediately regretted it. My head was pounding so hard that I was surprised it hadn't exploded yet. Every inch of my body ached.

"H-hello?" I coughed, voice coming out raspy.

I squinted my eyes, trying to figure out where the hell I was. I was in a room but it wasn't the one I shared with Draven. The walls were all white with a toilet in the corner and a bare bed frame.

The fuck?

I tried to call out again but instead I started to dry heave. I coughed my goddamn lungs out before stopping when I heard the sound of shuffling feet.

"Ian."

My whole body felt hot as I heard that unmistakable, masculine voice that made me shiver.

Draven.

I smiled at the sound of his voice, my body jolting back to reality.

If that's Draven... that means I'm in solitary.

"Y-yeah," I responded timidly, surprised he would even want to talk to me. Maybe he was going to tell me to shut the fuck up and stop coughing so he could sleep.

"Why... why are you down here," he murmured.

This was the most I had ever heard him speak and my heart was bouncing around happily in my chest, completely forgetting about the whole solitary thing until I realized what he was asking. Why am I down here?

My head hurt and everything was fuzzy. I can remember disappointment because no one came to visit me and then I went to shower and- holy shit.

I almost coughed up a lung again. "You're hurt." His questions came out as statements, like he wasn't asking, he was demanding. But his deep voice was soft, the sound making me smile instantly again. He sounded like he cares.

"Chris," I spoke, "he-"

Draven's soft tone turned into a scary one again, "Chris hurt you," he hissed, venom leaking through his words.

I gulped, dismissing how much I liked the sound of his voice. Whether it was soft, angry or indifferent. It made my heart run wild.

I nodded slowly even though he couldn't see me, "yeah, but he looks way worse," I tried to joke. Maybe that was a bit over an overstatement, but I certainly got more hits in than him.

"Why. What happened."

The way he formed his sentences was odd in some irresistibly endearing way. It was like he was a young child learning to talk for the first time. I guess in some way he kind of is. Miles says he rarely talks to anyone.

I ran my fingers through my hair awkwardly, afraid to make him angry, "where are you, anyway?" I asked, avoiding the subject.

"The vent connects the rooms. Look above you," he said plainly, "tell me what happened. Now."

I blushed, sitting down on the empty bed frame and trying to come up with some excuse. "It's stupid," I muttered.

I yelped, leaping off the bed when I heard a fist banging into the wall behind me. It only took a couple punches before there was a hole the size of Draven's fist in front of me. My face burned red when he looked through it and I saw that dangerous look in his eyes.

"Fucking Chris," he grumbled bitterly, looking all over my body. Thankfully someone put clothes on me at some point or else I would've had a heart attack.

I still blushed, the red color even staining my ears as he inspected me. I probably looked so disgusting after the fight with Chris.

"Tell me what happened," he repeated. "Don't change the subject."

I awkwardly shuffled a little bit closer to Draven, wanting to bask in his beauty after not seeing him in so long. He was so fucking perfect with his messy hair and intimidating eyes and strong cheeks bones.

I sighed, "I was in the shower and he, like, tried to..." I trailed off, flinching when Draven growled, rage radiating off of him in waves.

"He touched you."

I nodded before hesitating and blushing fiercely, "w-well, he tried, I mean, he, um... touched me... in a lot of places, but he didn't, he didn't do... that," I stuttered, wanting to slam my head into the ground until it finally knocked some sense into me.

He didn't speak for a while. He just stared at me and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. My eyes were all over the place, yearning to admire his features yet too shy and embarrassed. He didn't seem to have any shame, though.

"I'll kill him," Draven declared casually.

I spluttered, "what?!"

He blinked at me as if murder was the only solution, "I said I'll kill him."

"No, I heard you."

He stared at me again, "you don't want me to."

I shook my head, slowly. "I don't like violence," my voice came out small and timid, as if I'd break from a single tap.

His gaze hardened and he clenched his jaw before pondering over what I said, "I won't kill him," he hesitantly agreed. That was progress. "But I told you not to drop the soap. Listen next time."

I couldn't help but laugh, blushing again when I let my thoughts trail back to that day. His gaze intensified by a million, making me lose my breath again. Just by fucking looking at me. I could've sworn his lips almost curled up into a grin as he trained his eyes on me.

Fuck. He's so hot.

My brows started to scrunch together when I started to think about what was happening. I was talking, talking to Draven. Talking to Draven Draven. Mister 'I have no emotions' Draven. It was unreal and I prayed to whatever higher power there may be that I wasn't dreaming.

"Something's wrong," he almost looked sad when I stopped smiling. "What is it."

I twiddled my fingers together nervously, "it's just..." I sighed, "why are you talking to me?"

"Because I want to."

I bit my bottom lip, looking up at him through my lashes shyly, "you haven't exactly wanted to in the past," I mumbled.

"I judged you." He spoke quietly, "I was wrong."

I tilted my head away so that he couldn't see the giddy smile that was working it's way onto my face, "wrong about what?"

"You aren't who I thought you'd be," he shrugged and looked away. I could tell that there was something deeper behind his words. I wanted to ask questions but at the same time I didn't want to pry, and he didn't really seem like the sharing type.

I went to speak but I turned and coughed into my arm, ready hack up another lung. "You need water," he said.

"I'm fine," I choked out with my eyes watering, to my embarrassment.

He ignored me, moving out of my sight and I frowned, wanting to look at him some more but he came back with a small bottle of water. He stuck his gigantic hand through the hole between us and gave me the bottle.

"Drink."

I drank about half, desperately wanting to down the rest but he was still staring at me and I was embarrassed. I pulled back with a few droplets of water spilling down my chin. His eyes followed them before settling on my lips and it took everything in me not to choke again.

I went to give it back to him but he shook his head and gently pushed my hand back. The contact of his skin on mine made my whole body feeling tingly.

"Drink the rest," he demanded. I listened.

After I finished the bottle I gave him another shy glance. "Why are you being so nice to me?" I dared to ask.

He didn't respond. His eyes reaching into mine like he wanted to know everything about me, like he wanted to know all of my secrets, like he wanted me.

"Go to sleep," he instructed before presumably laying down on his own bed, out of my sight again, to my dismay.

I frowned, already missing his voice and face. But I couldn't let myself get too used to it anyway. I couldn't get attached.

Why the fuck am I even doing right now? He's probably a goddamn serial killer or something! Being dangerously sexy doesn't make murder okay, even if my stupid brain keeps saying otherwise.

I couldn't lie to myself anymore and pretend I wasn't pining after him with every fiber of my being. It was too obvious for me to be able to deny it, silently knowing the truth but never admitting it out loud. I was falling for a crazy person. And why was I okay with that?

A/N
Aye they finally made some progress. What do you think of Draven now that you know more about him?