"Wake up," the voice whispered, brushing her hair behind her ears.

Regan opened her eyes, her mind shutting back on, and her hands stung in pain.

She looked down at her hands, wrapped in bandages and a blanket wrapped around her. Then she felt him behind her, arms wrapped around her providing her with a strong sense of security and his voice so velvety and deep she shivered.

"Vixen," she muttered, recognizing his face. What had she done? Was crying like a sad puppy not enough? Did she have to be so attention seeking? What was she a baby? She had gone too far. She had overstepped her boundaries. Now the son of the cage which trapped her hugged her and yet she had snuggled up like a bird in a nest, "I- I'm sorry."

She looked down avoiding Vixen's gaze. She was pathetic. A useless excuse for a human being, accepting comfort like she was starving, seeking for ways to ease the pain she deserved. She didn't deserve comfort, she deserved death. And as soon as she got out of here, she would grant it to herself.

"Hey," Vixen muttered.

Regan shivered, this was her end huh? She held on so long just so she would be dumped in the grave she had dug. "Yes?"

"Look at me," Vixen asked, his words brief but heavy, the emotions in them buried in the depth and layers in his voice.

Regan regained her courage and slowly looked behind her to find Vixen looking down at her. His sharp eyes staring deep into hers, demanding attention.

"I didn't give you comfort in order to get a disheveled ball of emotions," Vixen muttered leaning in closer to Regan's face, "I know you aren't like that."

Regan looked at Vixen resisting the urge to shudder again. Such cold eyes, she thought to herself. The harshness and danger emitting from his violet eyes sent shivers down her spine.

"Doesn't matter," Regan sighed, "I was the one who asked for comfort."

"So?" Vixen chuckled, "I was the giver in the end right? It would mean nothing if I had simply ignored you. I chose to embrace you."

Regan sighed. She was such

"Shush," Vixen whispered into her ears covering her mouth with his hand, "no more complaining about useless actions, it's lunchtime."

Regan pushed Vixen away, then stood up and walked to her bed slamming her body into the hard mattress. She watched Vixen as he opened the door to her room and talked to the guard outside. She looked away immediately when she noticed him turn back around with a tray of food in his hand. What does he want? Regan thought as her eyes trailed his every move. What does he want from me?

Vixen looked up at Regan, his piercing eyes made her flinch a bit when they came into contact.

"I want nothing from you so don't worry," Vixen chuckled, his smile revealed a deep dimple in his cheek. Regan looked at him, unable to read him as quickly as he read her. "I'm not a stranger to minds." He muttered, even cynical ones, He thought to himself.

"Sounds useful to me, an occupational habit?" Regan asked, walking to the desk in the middle of the room and sitting down on one side as Vixen set the table as he always did near the end of every day.

"Hmm," Vixen absentmindedly replied.

Regan found him intriguing, the only coffee stain of the blanket of grey that kept her caged in what she liked to call, 'heavenly h.e.l.l.' This was the first time she had ever sat down and actually talked to him. Vixen Cloud, son of the founder and owner of the asylum that housed the mentally damaged and even had a special function to have them serve their time while in confinement. Mentally damaged, it had a nice ring to it, reminding her of herself.

"Who were those people on the tv?" Vixen asked, watching as Regan began to dig into her food, "you looked really hurt from whatever was on the tv, did you know them?"

Regan looked up and smirked, "if I didn't know them why would I be getting emotional? But anyway," She shoved a fork full of spaghetti into her mouth, "why do you care? The son of the h.e.l.l trapping me is pretending to care about how I got here? How comical."

"Don't laugh, there's nothing wrong with feeling pity for the ones you hurt," Vixen smiled, his grin sending a chill down Regan's spine. He placed his head on the table and looked up at Regan with his cold violet eyes, "especially when that captured bird of mine seems to have an interesting past."

"Ha," Regan sighed, looking at the red ring on her finger, "don't be so sure it's a bird and not its prey."

Vixen stared at Regan. Now he was really curious, what was up with that girl? Why was she here? Why was she "dead?" So many questions he wanted to pry out of her. His curiosity was peaking.

"You're not going to tell me?" Vixen asked again.

Regan turned her fork in her spaghetti avoiding eye contact with the piercing eyes of the man across the table from her, "whatcha think? I know it doesn't matter if I say no can simply just search it up."

"If you know that then spare me the time and just tell me now," Vixen pressed.

Regan slammed her fork into her plate and stared at Vixen.

"Can you stop? You're just so pushy! I don't know how bored you must be to be reaching out to me but you need to stop cuz' I will not entertain your bulls.h.i.t," Regan growled, "look at where I am for goodness fuvking sake. This is an asylum where they hold deranged people just like me and I'm not sure if you know about how many people I've killed but I have to live with their deaths because it was a foolish decision on my part from me being blind to b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who wrap blindfolds called love around people's eyes. Let me live with their deaths in peace. I don't need a curious George on my tail examining me in order to keep his life interesting. JUST LET ME BE! I don't know how much interest I might give you but it needs to stop. This is fuvking ridiculous."