Acceptance | Gay MxM |

28. Something Personal

"Fucking sissy!"

I blinked and looked away from the people. I just wanted to leave... I wanted to leave. I wanted to...

I wanted...

My hands were shaking.

If he saw me in that place...

"I hope they kill you!"

I let out a long breath and looked down at a desk next to me. There was a candle holder made of little pieces of mirrored glass. The bright lights above my head flickered on its surface. I touched it gently but didn't dare to pick it up.

He would've beaten the crap out of me if he'd seen me in a place like that. Especially with another man. Especially if he knew why we were there. I still remembered the pain...

That was why I felt so bad there. Part of me still expected to see him there, standing behind me, balling his fists.

Just a voice in my head anymore.

I took a deep breath, then another. He was not there. He was locked up and far away from me. And even if he did somehow appear behind me at this very moment...

I looked up at Cole. I'd seen him hit a punching bag at the gym, knowing I wasn't the only person there deciding never to piss him off.

Something else clicked in my head.

The irony. Dad had wanted me to be big and strong like a man, like he was. But Cole was bigger and stronger. A gay man was bigger and stronger...

Cole gave me a small smile and stepped between two shelves, turning his attention to the vases on it. I watched him for a while. Being in a store like this didn't seem to bother him at all. He picked up a few of the vases, checking the price tags. Vases. For flowers.

"Do you think the bar is a bit... barren?" he suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"I haven't had any time to think about how I want it to look. There's no... soul, you know?"

I just stared at him for another moment. "Huh?"

He chuckled lightly and showed two of the vases: a black, rectangular one, and a round blue one. "I want to redecorate the place now since I can finally afford it. My dream is to give it a whole new makeover, change everything – tables, chairs, the counter, the walls – but I can't decide what to do. Black and sleek and sterile, or something more homey?"

"Homey," I said without even thinking about it.

"Homey," he repeated gently, looking at the blue one. "I guess there's no soul in sterile," he added with a chuckle.

I thought about my own home. "There really isn't..." I muttered.

It was his turn to watch me for a moment. Then he put the vases away and took a careful step toward me.

"We'll find your soul," he said quietly.

"Cats have no soul," I told him, nearly turning my back on him.

"They do," he said with a smile, touching my arm lightly. "And yours is already showing. You've already given me hints and glimpses of what it's like."

"Bullshit – I have no soul," I scoffed.

He laughed a little. "Dramatic – that's the fourth hint."

I hesitated for a moment, but I had to ask, "What are the other three?"

He leaned closer to me. "Curious. That was the second one. Kind was the first one. Playful is the third."

"Like I said: bullshit, especially the third one," I told him.