One morning, while Robert ate his cereal and Georgie read with her coffee, he asked, “Georgie, your mum was English, yeah? But I only ever see you drink coffee. Didn’t she ever give tea to you when you were little?”

He’d grown up drinking tea. His mum had given it to him not only at the usual times, it was used to soothe him if he was ill or upset, heat him up on cold days and loads of other times.

“Oh, she did, but I never liked how it tasted,” she said, setting her book aside. He was surprised. He’d never thought tea tasted bad.

She saw his expression and said, “You know, it’s just leaves and twigs boiled in water. At least, that’s what it tastes like to me,” and she shuddered as she thought about it. He couldn’t help laughing a little and she smiled at him, her face lighting up.

“It’s like that with milk,” she continued. “I haven’t willingly drunk a glass of milk since I was six. It’s disgusting,” and she made a gagging motion. He couldn’t help laughing again, and she was practically glowing when she smiled at him, happy she’d made him laugh.

“I loved chocolate milk, so my mom would give that to me sometimes, even though she said it wasn’t good for me. I wish I could have it again once. It’s so good!” she said, with a dreamy expression on her face.

Robert knew she never had sweets. There wasn’t even any jam in the kitchen to put on toast. He wondered how long it’d been since she’d had anything like that.

“Now coffee is different from tea. Totally different taste,” she said, sounding like a typical American teenager again.

“The first time I had coffee was when I went to a Starbucks that had just come to our neighborhood with my friends. They sell coffee there, and they had this one coffee drink my friend said I had to try because it had chocolate in it.” Robert wondered if she really didn’t realize Starbucks was all over the world.

“It was called mocha – mocha – something, I can’t remember but mocha meant there was chocolate in it.”

Robert asked “Mocha cappuccino?” and she looked at him in surprise.

“Yes! Mocha cappuccino! It tasted –.” She closed her eyes as she remembered the flavor, with the dreamy look on her face again. “It was wonderful! So chocolaty!” she finished, opening her eyes, as if she couldn’t think of a better way to describe it.

“Ever since then, I’ve liked coffee. At first, I always had to have chocolate in it, but now –.” She looked at her coffee mug, saying, “Well, now I’m used to having it like I do here. I put in a little sugar to take the edge off the bitterness, and a little cream. I have to be careful not to use too much, in case it makes me gain weight, but it’s the thing I look forward to in the morning. And I’m careful the rest of the day, so I can have the calories in the morning.”

Robert was shocked to hear her talk about watching her weight like that. She was so slender, he couldn’t believe she needed to be so careful, especially since their diet was so restrictive. He didn’t know how much weight he’d lost since he’d been kidnapped, but his jeans were loose.

She interrupted his thoughts, saying, “Frankie loved tea. Sometimes I think she got the British genes from mom and I got the Italian ones from dad, even though I don’t look very Italian, except for my hair.”

Then her voice got more sad as she talked about her sister. “Frankie looked more Italian than me. She was so beautiful. She had darker skin and brown eyes like dad and mom’s light brown hair. Her hair was a lot like the color of your hair, sort of caramel colored. I always wished I was beautiful like her,” she finished in a quiet voice, then jumped up to wash her mug so he wouldn’t see she was tearing up.

Robert was about to tell her he thought she was beautiful, but before he blurted it out, he caught himself. Instead, he tried to change the subject away from her sister.

“Georgie, you’re so thin, I can’t believe you’re worried about gaining weight.”

While she had her back to him, she said, “I have to be really careful. Even one extra pound can be bad.” He couldn’t believe she thought that.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded loudly, and then he realized there wasn’t even a scale in the flat. “How d’you even know if you’ve gained a pound?”

She suddenly turned and looked at him, and from the horrified expression on her face he knew she’d just revealed something she didn’t want him to know, something that had been hidden from him. He had a sinking feeling the bastard was involved in this.

He said slowly, “Georgie, how d’you know if you’ve gained a pound?” She started wringing her hands and looked like she was about to cry as she looked around desperately, as if she wanted to be anywhere but in the kitchen with him.

He couldn’t bear to see her looking that distraught, and stood up to go to her. She looked scared until he started to pull her to him and realized he wanted to hold her. She went to him with relief, leaning against him, but he could feel how tense she was.

He didn’t know she was crying, until he heard it in her voice when she pleaded, “Please don’t get mad.” He’d heard that before. The bastard was definitely involved.

“I won’t get mad. I promise,” he said, but he knew he was going to be mad. He just wouldn’t let her see it.

“I get weighed sometimes to make sure I haven’t gained any weight,” she said so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

Fucking controlling bastard, he seethed. He waited a few minutes, but she didn’t say anything else. She was going to make him ask the question.

“What happens if you gain any weight,” he asked, thinking about her statement that even one pound could be bad.

“I get less food for a while,” she said quietly.

“How long?”

“A month – sometimes more,” she whispered.

He considered not asking anything else, because he thought he might know what she wasn’t telling him. But he couldn’t help hoping he was wrong. That it couldn’t be as bad as he was thinking.

“Were you hungry – ever?” he asked her in a whisper, because his throat hurt too much to talk any louder.

“Only at the end of the week, then I’d get my groceries and I’d be okay again,” she said quietly, trying to reassure him that it wasn’t that bad, that the bastard wasn’t starving her for a month or more to punish her for gaining weight.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gained any weight. I know what I need to do now so it’s not that bad. Really,” she said quietly in his chest, trying to make him think everything was fine now.

He couldn’t help thinking about all the times she’d eaten with him. The half-eaten sandwiches she threw in the bin at lunch time. At dinner, she always ate less than he did even though she exercised more. He suddenly realized he’d never actually seen her eat breakfast, unless coffee counted as a meal. The fucking bastard didn’t need to starve her anymore because she was starving herself, he thought with despair.

It seemed like every time he thought he knew the depths of cruelty she was subjected to, there would be something new he learned that was worse than anything he’d heard before. How could anyone be that cruel to someone as sweet as her? She didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t right that she had to suffer like this. He was filled with a seething rage against the bastard and vowed, again, that whatever it took, he’d never stop looking until he found her and saved her.

He held her for a long time. He could feel the tension leave her as she was comforted by him, relaxing her body against his. After a while, she released her hold on him, letting him know she was done hugging, but he couldn’t let go of her and tightened his arms a little. She hesitated for a moment then, realizing he still needed her, hugged him back tightly.

He couldn’t make himself let go of her until the anger had left him and his throat wasn’t hurting anymore. And that didn’t happen until he forced himself not to think about what she’d told him. Instead, he concentrated on feeling her in his arms and listening to her slow and steady breathing, until that was the only thing in his mind and he could let go.

When he finally released her, he went to get his cereal bowl so he could wash it, afraid to look at her in case it made him angry again. She left the kitchen without saying anything. When he went to his room, her bedroom door was closed. He got ready to run, hoping it would help him feel better because what he really wanted to do was strangle the bastard, or put his fist through a wall.

When he was done with his workout and walked through the sitting room, Georgie’s door was still closed and he worried about her. He hoped he hadn’t upset her by holding her so long. As soon as he’d bathed and dressed, he checked on her and found her getting ready to do laundry. She saw him and said, “We should wash your bedding today,” as if nothing had happened. He was relieved she was alright.

Later that day, Robert decided he was finally ready to play the piano. He hadn’t wanted to give in, to acknowledge this was where he lived, but his relationship with Georgie had changed that. He was tied to her now, and this was where she lived, even if he didn’t like it. He remembered back to the first day, when he’d played that bit of music out of her book and how excited she was to hear it. He knew if he played, it would make her happy. And after what he’d heard today, he wanted more than anything to give her something special, something to make her happy.

That afternoon, as Georgie was starting to play, he walked into the music room to join her. As soon as she saw him, she stopped playing, her eyes wide with surprise.

When he reached her, he asked, “D’you mind if I sit here while you play?” pointing at the bench next to her.

She shook her head as if she was unable to say anything and jumped up, adjusting the bench so she could sit in the middle of the keyboard with him next to her. Once they were settled, she sat looking at the keys, as if she wasn’t sure she should play. She’d played with him in the room before but something was different. She seemed nervous.

“What’s wrong? Should I leave?” he asked, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

She looked at him, saying quickly, “No! Don’t leave! It’s just – I don’t think I play very well. You probably think I’m not very good,” and she slumped a little when she said it. He understood now. She felt intimidated playing in front of him.

“Please don’t think you shouldn’t play because you’re afraid of what I think. I like your playing. I want to hear you play.”

She took a deep breath and said, “Okay,” like she was steeling herself. He had to hide his smile when she said ‘okay’.

She started playing and he followed along in her book, reading the music. When she got to the end of the page, he turned it for her, surprising her. She stopped playing for a second, then started again.

He knew this piece was one of her favorites because it was usually the first one she played. As he watched her play, he could see which parts she’d memorized. When she got to them, she'd either look at her hands, or close her eyes, moving her body as she played, completely caught up in the music. It hurt him a little to see her play like that. It’d been so long since he’d lost himself in the music, and seeing her play reminded him how much he’d missed it.

When she finished the piece, she put her hands in her lap and sat for a moment looking at the keys. Then she looked up at him, her face glowing, and said, “Thank you for turning the pages. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

He was embarrassed to see how much it meant to her, and he looked at the keys, saying quietly, “It’s nothing.” To his relief, she pulled out a different book without saying anything more.

She played more of her music and he turned the pages for her. All the pieces she played were familiar to him. He’d heard her play all of them often and he realized she was playing him all her favorites. He was touched. When she was finished playing, she let him know, and they sat quietly for a few seconds looking at the keys.

“I think you play very well,” he told her. “You play with a lot of feeling.” She couldn’t look at him when she thanked him, blushing heavily.

“D’you mind switching places?” he asked her.

She said quickly, “No, I don’t mind,” jumping right up as if she was afraid he would change his mind.

When they were settled, Robert stacked Georgie’s open music books on top of the piano. Then he took a moment, trying to decide which song to play first. He’d always seemed to be able to hear a song and transcribe it in his head so he could play it on the piano. He’d long thought he’d choose the loudest angriest song he knew as the first song he’d play, but he reconsidered. Thinking through the songs he knew, he decided on one that was loud and angry, but also had a beautiful melody for Georgie’s sake.

He put his hands on the keys and closed his eyes, wanting to be aware of the last moment before he played. Georgie sat so still and quiet beside him, he suspected she might be holding her breath.

When he opened his eyes and started playing, he felt her body tense beside him as she reacted to the music while watching his hands intently. The song started with a sweet melody and then changed to fast, strong chords. When he started playing the chords, he heard her suck in her breath with surprise. It felt so satisfying to hit the keys as hard has he could, making that piano belong to him, filling the flat with his music. Playing the piano felt better than he ever could’ve imagined. He could feel a certain tension he hadn’t realized he’d had, one he’d felt since the very first day, leaving his body.

When he finished the song, he listened to the last of the notes die away and Georgie remained perfectly still. He began another song, and she let out her breath, continuing to watch his hands intently while he played. When he finished that song, she did the same thing, holding still and waiting, as if she didn’t want to interrupt his playing, taking it all in.

Somehow, as he played, she’d shifted her body subtly. They’d been sitting close to each other, but now their legs were touching. She’d leaned back so that he could reach across her to get to the lower register keys more easily, and he could feel her chest against his back where their bodies overlapped slightly. She had her arm around behind him, reaching to hold the bench on his other side to steady herself while she leaned back. If he played fast, moving his body with the effort, she put her hand on his hip to keep from losing her balance. The music was flowing out of him, and she was there too. It all merged together and he was lost in it, no longer aware where the boundaries were between him, her and the music.

He’d had been playing for a while, when he heard Georgie quietly singing the chorus of a song he was playing. It somehow interrupted the part of his brain that the music was coming from and he stopped playing and looked at her. She looked back at him with astonishment, saying loudly, “I know this song!” as if she couldn’t believe it. He didn’t understand why she was so surprised and she must have seen it on his face.

“I thought this was your music. I didn’t know you were playing songs.” And then, maybe thinking she’d insulted him, she added quickly, “I mean I didn’t recognize the music until this one. You play them all so well – I thought you wrote them.”

Now he was the one who was astonished. Most of what he’d been playing was popular music. Anyone would have heard any number of those songs constantly over the last few years. He realized the difference with the song she knew compared to the others was that it was an old song, maybe thirty years old. A cover of it had recently become a hit and that was why he’d started playing it. Then he remembered when he’d heard her singing in the library, the song his band played as part of their regular set, came from the around same time.

“How d’you know this song?”

A look briefly crossed her face. “My mom loved music – always had it playing and singing to it. She liked this one,” she said quietly, looking at the keys.

It made sense now. She hadn’t heard popular music in years. He felt a tightening in his throat, making it hurt, and he looked at the keys waiting for the feeling to pass.

After a few minutes, she asked him softly, “Will you play it again?”

He started the song but Georgie didn’t know the first verse so he started singing it softly, surprising her. She joined him when he got to the chorus and he got to hear their voices together. She sang softly too, though more quietly than him, her voice high and sweet, mingling with his deep one. She sang the second verse with him, only missing a few of the words before they ended with the final chorus. By then she was singing louder, matching his volume and making their two voices fit together perfectly. It was a magical moment.

When the song ended and the last of the notes died away, he looked at her and then she looked at him. When their eyes met, he knew something profound had happened. Something had changed between them. It was like they were linked now. The connection between them was pulling him to her, drawing them together. She felt it too. He could see it in her eyes as she looked intently into his, seeing right into his soul.

Then she slipped her fingers in his hair and pulled him down to meet her lips. She kissed him softly – gently – sweetly – but like she wanted him. It was different from the passionate kisses of his dreams, but it still set him on fire. Her fingers caressed his hair while her other hand was on his back, holding him firmly against her. He didn’t touch her, afraid of what he might do, afraid he'd do too much. Her lips caressed his, warm and open and soft. She tasted wonderful, and he could smell her special clean, almost spicy scent. He felt like he was drowning in her and time stood still.

Long before he was ready to stop kissing her, she pulled away from him. The expression in her eyes was wonderful to see, her face glowing. As she looked into his eyes, he could see how much she liked it, and how happy she was. He was happy too, deliriously happy – but then fear gripped him. This was a terrible mistake, he thought desperately. This was the moment he’d dreaded for so long. The moment when things would go one step too far, and they couldn’t turn back. She wasn’t his, and he was playing a fucking dangerous game with her.

She saw his expression and her face fell. Then she suddenly turned her back to him, and he knew she was going to cry. Don’t touch her, he told himself harshly, as he started to reach for her.

After a minute, she recovered enough to say in a voice choked with tears, “We should start dinner,” then jumped up, and practically ran from the room.

He buried his face in his hands and tried to stay in control over his emotions. No matter how hard he’d tried to keep their feelings from letting things get too heated, it still happened. After what they’d done already, it seemed like kissing was a huge leap forward. A boundary had now been crossed, and there was no way they could go back. He felt despair wash over him. He was trapped in this fucking tiny flat with a beautiful, sweet girl. How on earth was he supposed to keep them apart? He felt the black weight settling over him and he fought it, trying to keep it from crushing him.

When he thought he had enough control over himself he could manage to be in the same room with her, he went to the kitchen. When he glanced at Georgie, he saw she’d been crying, and her face was grim. They cooked in silence, avoiding even looking at each other. The tension in the room was so thick, it was pressing on him, and it hurt like hell. The careful balance he’d tried to maintain had been destroyed. He could feel it. Everything had changed.

Neither one of them were very hungry, and they barely ate. When they cleaned up, Robert decided it wouldn’t be such a good idea to spend the evening in the same room with her. It was too tense, and they needed some separation. When they’d finished and were leaving the kitchen, he turned to her and said, “Good night, Georgie.”

When she realized he was going straight to his room, he had to turn and walk away from her. He couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes, to see how much he’d hurt her. He was at his bedroom door when she finally said in a choking voice, “Good night, Robert,” and he knew she was crying again.

He tried to read in his room but mostly he just stared at the same page while he willed himself not to think about what had happened. It wasn’t until later, when he turned out the light, that he allowed himself to relive the moment. He felt her hand on the back of his head pulling him down to her. Her lips so soft on his, her fingers in his hair, her body pressed against him. He remembered the look in her eyes, of wanting him and then happiness.

And then he made himself feel the pain of knowing it must never happen again. He imagined the bastard beating her after finding out he’d kissed her. He knew it would kill him if she were beaten again because of him. And there would be no way he could protect her, the bastard would make sure of it. The only way Robert could protect her was to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. And the thought filled him with despair.

He was still lying awake when Georgie started screaming. He sat up, then forced himself to lie back down. He couldn’t allow himself to go to her anymore. It was only a matter of time before what happened today would start happening at night. And he knew he wasn’t nearly strong enough to stop what would come next.

While he laid there, he heard the terror and agony in her screams, and it was like torture. He pulled the pillow over his head, trying not to hear her, but he still could. He was overwhelmed with intense pain, and then the tears came.

****

THEY KISSED!  But then, oh.  Such a sad turn of events!   Another one of my very favorites because of a lot of different reasons.  Georgie gets to tell more about herself, both really good things and really terrible things.  There was another really great hug (have I said how much I love it when they hug?).  And they KISSED for the first time!  It was a really good kiss too!  So let's see if Robert comes to his senses!

The first song Robert plays for Georgie on the piano is the one in the video.  Be sure and watch it and you'll get to experience a little of what Georgie did when she watched Robert.  The young man in the video was part of my inspiration for the particular talent Robert has to play by ear.  The song Robert and Georgie sing together is the Tears For Fears song ‘Mad World’ which is popular again as a cover by Gary Jules.  Keep a watch on the videos because you'll be seeing a lot more 'Robert' songs instead of the 'Georgie' ones I've had so far!

If you liked this chapter, show me some lovin' with a vote and leave a comment if you like.  I love it when I get comments!