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Pagan doesn't give you your own bedroom. No, because why would he in this fucking castle? Where there are couches bigger than your bed at home - where would he have room for you to sleep other than by his side?
It's about control. About telling you that you are absolutely his. That's what it all is about.
At the very least, his bed is huge. It's easily the biggest one you've ever seen.
That doesn't make crawling into bed with him any easier, though.
...
Pagan looks at you from across the sheets and array of pillows, his silk pajamas that matched the ones you'd been given adorning his body.
He wiggled his eyebrows slightly, and offered a bit of a smirk. "Better be careful, love. I do turn into a bit of an octopus when I fall asleep." He warns in an affectionate manner, and you hate how domestic it Is.
Why can't he just be… anything else than an seemingly adoring "boyfriend" ? It's an act. It has to be. You wonder what game he's playing at.
You ignore what he says, and crawl into the furthest side of the bed.
You don't look over, but you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks again. "Guess I'll just fall asleep all alone on this side of the bed." He emphasizes the words alone, as if he were really expecting you to turn around because you feel sorry for him.
You don't. You want to go home. You want to out out of this place. You want to get away from Pagan and forget any of this ever happened.
You don't say anything, and he speaks again after a moment. "C'mon, Y/N. I'm really trying. No need to give me the cold shoulder." He drags out what he's saying much longer than he needs to, as if he's giving you a chance to turn around and change your mind. "Y/N." He says low, like a warning.
You were afraid of what he might do. You spoke up, but didn't turn to face him. "...Can I just fall asleep, please?" You say quietly, meekly.
"Sure," He says behind you, his voice sounding very much like there was a caveat coming. He paused for a moment. "In my arms." Pagan finishes, and it's with venom that he spits the words.
You want to tell him to go fuck himself. You want to leave and get out of this bed, this town, country, this world .
But he knew too much about you, about your family.
You turned toward him and scooched over in bed.
He had his arms open, and he looked happy to see you turning and, in his eyes, accepting his deal because you wanted to. Or maybe he knew that you feared for your life. You didn't know, but he did look ecstatic when you finally gave in and pressed your body against his, allowing his arms to curl around yours.
This close, pressed up against his chest you could smell his aftershave, feel the heat of his body, and if you listened hard enough you could swear you could make out a heart… your ears must be deceiving you on that one.
"Isn't this better…" He said clearly, hands drawing shapes and simply just running over the smooth silk covering your back.
It seemed more rhetorical, so you didn't answer.
Pagan's hands finally stop their slide across your skin, other than the slight movements his fingers continue to do.
All in all, if it had been anyone else in this situation you might be happier. This just makes your skin crawl, though when you think about where he's been. What he's done.
...
The room is cold, and his warm skin isn't that bad when you ignore who it is.