Caged Phoenix

Against all odds, Aster had dozed off soon after his torturer’s welcome disappearance. Disturbingly, he was then shaken awake less than an hour later. Sensing another presence, Aster looked up in the artificial twilight only to be confronted by the vicious eyes of Zane. He jerked up in fright. Zane chuckled at the reaction.
“I do hate to disturb you, Mr. Phoenix, but I do believe you must be hungry by now.”
Aster could not respond. He wasn’t sure if his vocal cords were in working order in any event.
“Still not talking, huh? Tell me then, Aster, do you wish to eat or do you wish to starve?”
The anger was returning, and just in the nick of time. “Starve,” he managed to ground out.
“Too bad.”
Unceremoniously, Zane plopped down a bowl of rice porridge and a container of water. “Eat. If you don’t, you’ll wish you had.”
“Why do you care if I live?” Even to the bitter end, Aster couldn’t staunch his curiosity.
“Because I don’t wish for you to die. Not so soon. I’m not finished with you yet.” A self-satisfied smirk playing over his profile, Zane once more vanished from sight, leaving Aster alone.
Bastard.
His mouth was now bone-dry and his lack of energy had grown more pronounced. Aster couldn’t decide if he was hungrier or thirstier. Nevertheless, sustenance for both was a mere few inches away.
In the end, Aster didn’t even have to think. In one desperate motion, he reached out for the water and downed it. His chains provided just enough leverage for that.
What you don’t realize, Zane, is that I don’t want to die either.
But, considering his situation, his desire would be deemed rather strange by the casual observer.
He ate the rice porridge as if he had never tasted food before. Later, he slept. In his unconsciousness, Aster was provided a brief respite from the tortures he had endured. Unfortunately, it had to end when he could sleep no more. Weakly, Aster opened his eyes to take in his now familiar surroundings. However, Aster soon desperately wished he had never awoken at all. Sitting directly across from him was the monster himself, Zane.
“Good morning, Aster,” Zane cruelly pronounced. “Did you sleep well?”
“Right up until now,” he whispered.
Zane chuckled. “That’s what I like about you, Phoenix—your endless supply of spirit.”
Aster remained quiet. He wasn’t about to waste his precious energy exchanging words with his tormentor.
“I’ve been watching you for at least an hour, Aster. Do you usually moan in your sleep?”
“Only when someone tortures me to the brink of death,” he responded acridly.
“Death?” Zane raised a navy-black eyebrow. “Who said anything about death? Death is too good for you.”
A silence passed between the two men. Zane stared at him for what seemed like hours.
“Aster?”
Aster was immediately alert. “What?”
“I fed you and allowed you to sleep. Allowed, Phoenix. Don’t I deserve to be thanked?”
“Thanked?” The word echoed.
Thanked? For what? Capturing me, beating me, and burning me for hours on end?
Zane hadn’t blinked once. “Well? Don’t you want to know how you can thank me?”
“How?” Aster’s head was beginning to ache.
Zane sprang to his feet instantly. “I’m so glad you asked.”
Aster shuddered in his bondage.
What is he going to ask me to do?
As it turned out, Zane couldn’t keep secrets long. Sadistically, he smirked.
“Scream.”
As before, scorching hot agony took his breath away when Zane’s hands came into contact with his already existing burns. Once more, a reverberating scream escaped his throat. Somewhere amidst the chaos and pain arose the unmistakable stench of lemons.
Zane. He coated his hands with it…
To confirm his guess, the former Obelisk Blue began to speak.
“Like it? The kitchen’s full of them.”
If it wasn’t bad enough, Zane’s hands began to roam—creating trails of liquid fire across his numerous wounds. In the tenderest areas, Zane’s dexterous fingers would linger.
“Zane!” Aster shouted. “St-st-stop!”
“Beg me to.” His torturer’s voice had grown husky.
Aster was no fool. There was no pride anymore. “Please stop, Zane! Make it…stop…”
Zane complied, but not entirely. His hands moved from the afflicted skin, but they still remained on Aster’s chest. They were exploring now. Almost gently so.
“Oh, but you do possess a beautiful body, Phoenix. I know it when I see it,” Zane commented throatily.
A completely new fear pervaded Aster’s being.
What is Zane getting at?
“Nice,” he murmured. “Soft.” Idly, Zane toyed with Aster’s iron-gray hair.
Aster attempted to turn his head away, but his captor effortlessly ceased the movement with one light touch of his hand. Aster now had no choice but to align his gaze directly with Zane’s own. What he found there astounded him. There was intensity, yes. Some of the old hatred, yes. Yet, swirled in the deepest contours of Zane Truesdale’s eyes was wondrous amazement. Warmth.
Aster recognized danger when it presented itself. “Zane. Zane!” Desperately, he tried to bring the former student hero back to reality.
He frowned. “What’s your problem, Phoenix? You think I’m going to go easy on you. Well?” As if realizing the true extent of his previous train of thought, the former Obelisk Blue more than made up for his transgression by slapping Aster across the face—hard.
“Fool,” Zane hissed. “Fool.”
Zane’s control was visibly slipping. It was now more than apparent that Zane was fighting with some powerful inner urge. His breath came in harsh pants, and his hands were trembling.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Zane threw over his shoulder mockingly as he strode away. The infamous steel door slammed, and all sound died away.
I’m alone again.
But, that’s good isn’t it? It’s better when I’m alone. Nobody hurts me when I’m alone.
Still, the emotional strain lingered, and proof of its existence was leaking through Aster’s fingers in the form of tears.
Quietly, he sobbed himself into submission.