Urban Romance

[pattering ......]
The heat of the bathroom steamed and I looked at myself in the mirror, a luridly horrifying scar that had scabbed over my flat belly.
I don't know how it's done.
As soon as I woke up.
Ethan said it was a gunshot wound.
[Ethel, do you need me to come in and help you?] The blurry, tall figure stands outside the door, knocking and getting a negative answer, concerned, [You still have a cut on your head, be careful.]
[Got it.]
I quickly compose myself and push open the door to see Ethan standing guard like a doorstopper, naturally taking the towel from me and carefully scrubbing my hair.
The gentle movements didn't match his tough guy image at all.
But it pokes me.
The table was set with a variety of food, all my favorites and enough to last me for days.
Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor and forcefully carried me next to him, and then, as if that wasn't enough, simply ca

Ethan didn't do anything to me, he just told me to go to bed in a mild manner as if nothing had happened.
I also settled down for a few days and was exceptionally well behaved.
But I could detect that his eyes were glued to me at all times, passionate and blunt, and repressing some heavy emotion.
I was so depressed I wanted to run.
Even if Ethan says he loves me.
Joke's on you. Love is nothing in the face of life.
I'm running out of lives, so let's back off on the love talk and all that.
Today, Ethan went to work anyway, and as usual, I wanted to use the hundred dollars he gave me as a lifesaver, write a distress message, and throw it through the window.
But I can't find my pen.
All the pens in the house disappeared into thin air.
I realized something.
Yeah, Ethan's so smart, how could he not see my little trick?
I have to run today.
Looking at what was left of the house, and the tightly

Ethan's house is huge, so big that I can run around the house bouncing cha-chas.
Instead of locking me in some room, he let me run all over the house.
He indulged me almost 100% except for the fact that the study was locked and I was told that it contained a lot of secret police documents.
There were no knives in the house, no gas, not even china plates because he was afraid I would hurt myself.
When I was just locked up, I also made a demon and asked for help.
Writing [SOS] on windows, deliberately making noise to disturb the public, turning the faucet on to turn the house into a waterfall hole, and even dismantling refrigerators, air conditioners, and televisions ......
Ethan would never be angry when he came home from work, even if I caused him a lot of trouble, even if I made a mess in the house, he would still indulge me with a doting "my boy is great" look.
I was creeped out by the look and even felt a little spooky.
Today, he went back to work.
Took out a napkin and wrote and drew on it, what "110", "help me", "I'm in 701" and so on the basic information written in hundreds of copies, and then kneaded into a small paper ball, and threw them all out along the window.
Let's hope someone can save me.
I lay on my back at the window, looking expectantly at the occasional silhouette of people walking downstairs, little paper balls full of hope alone on the ground, blown away by the wind and cleaned up by the janitorial staff.
I've been doing something like this for a month now.
But no one opened it.
[Click.]
There was a slight ringing at the door, and my ears twitched as I quickly ran to the door, like a little pet waiting for its master to come home, watching silently as the man walked out with a large bag.
Ethan puts down what he's holding and smiles, taking me into his arms and planting a kiss on his forehead, his voice pleasant, [Missed me?]
Instead of answering, I stood on my tiptoes to gaze over his shoulder and watched as the door was slowly closed, cutting off the outside world.
It also isolates my freedom.
To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to his return very much, I just wanted to look outside briefly when he opened the door.
Even empty hallways.
[Ethel was good today, I'm happy,] Ethan's voice rang in my ear, [As long as you stay home, I'm keeping you well hidden.]
[Then no one will hurt you or take you away from me.]
I listened to his murmur and looked up, [why would anyone want to hurt me?]
Obscurity rolled over Ethan's eyes and a solemn hostility erupted from his body, [because they all deserve to die].

[pattering ......]
The heat of the bathroom steamed and I looked at myself in the mirror, a luridly horrifying scar that had scabbed over my flat belly.
I don't know how it's done.
As soon as I woke up.
Ethan said it was a gunshot wound.
[Ethel, do you need me to come in and help you?] The blurry, tall figure stands outside the door, knocking and getting a negative answer, concerned, [You still have a cut on your head, be careful.]
[Got it.]
I quickly compose myself and push open the door to see Ethan standing guard like a doorstopper, naturally taking the towel from me and carefully scrubbing my hair.
The gentle movements didn't match his tough guy image at all.
But it pokes me.
The table was set with a variety of food, all my favorites and enough to last me for days.
Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor and forcefully carried me next to him, and then, as if that wasn't enough, simply carried me to sit on his lap.
The man seems to have a skin hunger.
Whenever you're alone 

Chapter 3.