CH 2: Please Don't Be Him

Seraphina’s POV

I woke up to unfamiliar light filtering through curtains I didn't recognize. Panic flared, a cold dread seizing me as fragments of last night crashed back into my mind. The dark room. His smiling, predatory face. Running. The grimy streets. A choked gasp escaped me. This wasn't my room!

I clutched the sheet to my chest, my breath catching as footsteps approached the door, then drew closer to my bedside. "No," I whispered, barely loud. "Please don't be him. Don't be him."

My eyes snapped open, widening, then softening with a wave of relief. He wasn't the dangerous maniac from the VIP room. A pair of kind green eyes met mine. It was him, the man who had caught me as I collapsed in terror. "Y-You..." I managed, my voice trembling.

He paused, placing a food tray on the nearby table. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"I... I know," I said, hugging myself, my gaze falling to the sheets. "Th-thank you..."

"I don't know what happened to you, Miss," he said, his voice firm but laced with concern. "But if someone's been threatening you or chasing you, you have to report them to the authorities."

"No," I choked out, shaking my head so hard it made the room swim. "I... I can't."

I pushed myself up, determined to find a way out, but a searing pain shot through my bare feet. I gasped, collapsing back onto the pillows. Right. The shattered glass from last night. Each throb was a chilling reminder of my desperate flight.

"I… I… can't," I whispered again, the words raw. "H-He'll kill me."

His gaze, those startlingly kind green eyes, softened, but his expression remained serious. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice calm amidst my rising panic. "I'm Hugo." He extended a large, calloused hand toward me, an offer of a different kind of safety. 

I flinched, instinctively pulling back, the ingrained fear making me hesitate. It felt rude, but the thought of any touch, even a harmless one, made my skin crawl.

Hugo seemed to understand immediately. He lowered his hand, his movement slow and reassuring. "Alright," he said, the word a gentle acknowledgment of my terror. "So, what's your plan now? I can't let you stay here for long, you know. People talk. They'll speculate I've suddenly got a girl hiding in my place." He ran a hand through his damp, dark hair, a subtle hint of frustration in his posture. "You need to call the police. You need to report that son of a bitch who's chasing you."

"M-My name is Seraphina," I managed to say as I lowered my head. My lips felt like sandpaper, dry and still tender from the small cut that stung with every movement. The metallic tang of blood lingered, a phantom taste of terror.

Hugo took a cautious step toward me, and I instinctively recoiled, shuffling back until my shoulders hit the cool wall. My gaze darted up, wide and wary. He paused, his hand lifting slightly, as if to reach out, then stopping mid-air, respecting the invisible barrier I'd erected.

"Seraphina, what happened to you?" His voice was low, filled with an unsettling blend of concern and dawning horror as his eyes meticulously cataloged my injuries. "You have bruises... and this mark on your neck... your lips are cracked like someone tried to force a kiss on you—"

"S-Stop!" The word tore from my throat. His words were like a punch, each detail a fresh assault on my already fractured composure. The dam broke. 

I slumped to the floor, my legs giving out, and buried my face in my hands, hot tears scalding my cheeks. "Please... don't tell anyone I'm here... please..." The plea was choked with sobs, an animalistic sound of pure despair.

Hugo bent down, his posture mirroring mine, bringing his face level with mine. "Aren't you scared of me, Seraphina?" he asked, his voice soft but direct, cutting through my anguish. "I'm a stranger too."

"I-I know," I sobbed, looking up at him through a blurry haze of tears. "But I don't have a choice. Please, just... let me stay here for a week. I need time to think. I need a plan. Please?" My voice was ragged, the desperation evident in every syllable. "I promise, after all this trouble, I'll pay you back. I just need a few days... just a few days." I clung to the hope, to this improbable sanctuary, even as my body trembled with the aftermath of my ordeal.

"So, your name is Seraphina," he murmured, his gaze piercing through the tangled mess of my fear. "Seraphina... you can use this room for about a week. I'll take the other." He paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I don't know what you're running from, but I'm damn sure you'll get into far more trouble if you don't report any of this. Trust me."

"He's not just someone I can report to the police," I rasped, the words catching in my throat.

"So, he's your boyfriend?" Hugo pressed, his green eyes unblinking, demanding an answer.

"No."

"Your husband?"

"N-No." The single syllable was a strangled sound.

"Then who?" His voice was a low command now, no longer just a question.

"Are you trying to ask his name so you're the one who will report him?" I shot back, a new wave of panic, cold and sharp, lashing at me. "You can't do that! Your life will be in danger too!"

He scoffed, a dark, humorless sound that resonated with the grim reality of the situation. "From the moment I dragged you in here, Seraphina, I was already in danger if this man you're so terrified of is 'kinda dangerous,' wouldn't you say?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. "Tell me. Who is he?"

But before I could say anything, the sharp, insistent ring of the doorbell ripped through the silence. 

No way. My breath hitched, a cold knot of dread seizing my gut. I clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide and fixed on Hugo, who'd already seen the raw terror on my face.

His jaw tightened. In one swift, desperate movement, he scooped up my tattered dress and the small bag from the bed. 

He grabbed my arm, not gently, but with an urgency that left no room for protest, and practically dragged me toward the dark maw of the closet.

"Stay here..."