Day was having a less than stellar day. It wasn't the worst day he had ever had, but it wasn't the best. If he had to categorize it, he would probably place it firmly in the 'seriously annoying' category.
Frankly, he was less worried than he had been this morning. He had been certain someone was following him, and he had been right, but to his relief, it was just a couple of men with surprisingly effective tranquilizers. Not who he thought, and not even remotely as scary.
He had undone his ropes upwards of 12 times today, but his captors still retied them every time. He clearly wasn't going anywhere–his left leg had been badly broken. Still, he was continually being tied to a chair he had no intention of leaving.
"I don't like how tight they are!" Day protested as a large scowling guard retied the ropes as firmly as he could.
"Nobody cares!" The man snapped, "Keep these on or I swear to god I'll–"
"You'll what?" Day mocked, "Break my leg? Oh wait…"
"Don't you get the situation you're in?" The guard growled, grabbing Day's face with a large hand.
"What I get is that you're really bad at tying ropes. Honestly, I think it's time you found an alternate profession. Maybe one with less knots?"
That was it. The guard lifted his hand into a fist, ready to swing at his uncooperative captive, when the door swung open.
"What do you think you're doing?" A middle-aged man with an unlit cigarette between his teeth strode in, shoving the guard away. "You know the boss's orders. He's not to be harmed."
"Really?" Day looked pointedly at his leg.
"Relax," the man huffed, "It's a clean break. A month or two tops, and you'll be fine. Gives you plenty of time to decide to cooperate." He turned back to the guard, "is there a reason he's not gagged?"
The guard flushed slightly, before weakly muttering, "He's a biter."
The man closed his eyes and breathed in. Things were already going much less smoothly than planned. "Just make sure he doesn't move. God."
The guard nodded, and the man strode out.
The room lapsed into silence as the guard took up a post across from Day's chair, watching him suspiciously.
Truthfully, Day didn't mind being here. At least for the time being, it wasn't the worst. He was a little chilly and the ropes were cutting into his wrists and ankles, but otherwise, it wasn't terribly uncomfortable. He would leave eventually, when he got tired of being here, preferably in time for dinner with Wen. But for now, there really was no hurry.
Thinking of Wen, Day's stomach flipped in a funny way. This probably wasn't the right time to be thinking about it, but it was the last thing Day remembered—Wen's honey eyes staring eagerly at him, looking like he would give him anything if he asked.
Then Wen had turned, the back of his head illuminated with the setting sun so golden and bright Day's vision went black.
And now Day was here.
No, no, Day's head began to throb. There was something more, something in between the last time he saw Wen and now.
A sharp pain in the side of his neck. A hazy pain in his head. Muffled voices, a flash of someone's face. A familiar face.
Day's head throbbed harder. He knew this one, it was important. He had been so worried before. Why had he been so worried?
A flash of someone's face.
Oh. Oh.
He needed to get out of here. Now.