A Rebel Captive by J.D. Thompson

dinner.” 
    He helped her stand up and took her hand, making sure to walk at her pace as they headed back to his room.  Dinner was waiting for them and he told her to start eating as he shuffled through some papers at his desk before walking over to her.  He knelt down at her feel and untied her sandals, taking the opportunity to softly stroke her bare skin in the process.  She froze as he removed her shoes.  It was such an oddly tender action and she didn’t know what to make of it.
    Cole settled into his seat and uncorked the bottle of red wine that accompanied their dinner.  Pouring her a hefty glass, he smirked.  Wine was rationed in most Districts, mainly available to military personnel and the very wealthy.  The common people had access to cheaply made corn and potato based liquors or attempted to make their own spirits and wines.  She accepted the glass with little need of encouragement and took a healthy sip, enjoying the quality vintage.  They ate a hearty beef stew in silence for a few minutes before he decided to change his tactics with her.  He talked to her about his life, what it was like being a child of a lord, running around a fort causing mischief.  He told her of lighting fire crackers off in the kitchen and the cook marching him through the fort, straight to his father’s office, holding him painfully by the ear the entire way.                
    He kept a hand on her knee, gently caressing her.  He watched her eat her dinner with such relief and satisfaction; he thought she might lick her fingers and the plate when she was done.  He hoped she would hunger for him in such a way, one day.  He kept talking, moving on to his teenage years and training as a soldier for the Republic.  He told her about getting drunk for the first time with a fellow soldier and missing their shift as guards because the horrid, cheap, liquor made them violently sick.  The ensuing punishment was far worse than the initial embarrassment of getting caught.  He told her about scrubbing the mess hall with a toothbrush while wildly hung-over.  Both events were probably some of the most embarrassing moments of his life and he gladly told her the stories, repeatedly topping off her wine in the process.
    He felt silly talking incessantly, but could tell it kept her at ease.  She listened to him while savoring eating for the first time that day.  She dipped a crusty piece of bread in her stew and nibbled on it, finding herself enjoying hearing about his youth.  It made him seem more human and less of an overpowering force.  Her skin burned softy where his hand rested on her leg.  If she didn’t know any better this could’ve been a perfectly normal first date. 
    After dinner, he moved them to the living room.  The wine made her a little unsteady on her feet.  He sprawled across the couch then pulled her down between his legs and rested her back against his chest.  Her head fit perfectly against his shoulder.  Reaching for the remote control, Cole pressed a button and a wall panel pulled back revealing a TV. 
    “After a soul sucking day of sessions, I like to sit back and do something mindless like watch a movie, does that sound good?”  He started flipping through TV channels. 
    “Yes, my lord,” she said, holding herself stiffly against him. 
    Bide you time, make him happy, and always look for a way to escape, she thought, but too much of his body was in contact with hers.  He rested his hand and remote against her hip, still channel surfing.  His other hand went to her stomach, pressing her further against him.  She wanted to scamper away, curl up on the other end of the couch, keeping herself away from his touch.  But she was tired and feeling sluggish after two helpings of stew, her body growing heavy.  He was hard and muscular, but warm and she felt herself unintentionally sinking into him. 
    Settling on a ‘who done it’ thriller, Cole tossed the remote on the coffee