Okay, a little more, but this is it.
Sometime later, Keaton became aware of burning pain in his throat and the shivering cold of bare skin. It seemed Cam had decided not to kill him, yet.
Opening his eyes, he took a few shallow breaths, trying to kick-start his brain into understanding what he was seeing around him. In the corner, opposite of where Keaton was laying, a light sitting on a table glowed bright. A large bed stole most of the room’s space, its bedding rumpled and half laying on the floor.
Keaton shifted, cold and uncomfortable. The carpet he was lying on could not be described as anywhere near high quality, more in the category of sparse and scratchy.
Trying again to get comfortable, he moved his legs, only to realize one was caught in something. The rope around his ankle didn’t really surprise him. If Cam had chosen to not kill him, he would be compelled to keep him close. What made Keaton smile, was the towel duct taped under the rope. Caring for his comfort meant the connection had settled. That was if Cam was Keaton’s True One.