My Trophy Boy

What Shall I Do?

Q

I was on the brink of collapse myself.
I had big dangerous issues to deal with, but everything has become much more complicated, intertwined if you will, making things feel worse by tenfold.

My little Holland has repulsed himself into sickness due to overwhelming catastrophe. He is going through a lot, and unfortunately this is only the beginning. Being bound to someone because it's believed to be the will of the gods (or a God) is a puzzling physiological philosophy, which includes nature and practicality. However, it's apart of my life and always has been.. and will now be apart of his.

I am a firm man, a well organised man, a man who has ultimate dominion over my actions and legacies in life, objectively.
I am a being with acute sensitivity which some may refer to as 'subhuman', or a creature with unique features and isolated powers, but this is apart of my primitive, feral-bestial nature. A part of me that is classified information, therefore the general population don't need to know, otherwise my life, connections and work will be annihilated.
I am an adventurer, privileged to explore a wide variety of circles across the world to connect with all walks of life. I appreciate the nomination from the people that have gifted me the responsibility to carry their torch; their fire, because they see me as worthy. See I don't have to snatch power, I am granted what I am owed and my philosophy stands to say 'it is what it is'.
I am a protector, like a knight with the extra responsibility of governing order within and outside my institutions. For this is the reason why I may have to be harsh and thorough, because there's a savage animality to me.
However, my intentions are not to harm those that are innocent. My sole intention is to expand on justice and high order, which is the upmost importance to me at this stage, and impossible to achieve alone.

.

"Are you alright?" I made an attempt to support his wobbly stance.

"Don't- dont fucking touch me!" He coughed, putting his hand out to signify STOP.

"Let me get you some water." I sighed compassionately. I averted my eyes to look toward Mr Grant. He looked at me with an emotionless stare.
"Let me untie you." I said aloud, acting as if Mr Grant needed help. If he had wanted to he would be able to release himself within a heartbeat.
"Follow me to the kitchen, will you. You can make a start on tidying the place." I tried to keep my tone calm.

Truth was I was discombobulated, flabbergasted and irate that my privacy was revealed to Holland at a striking time like this. Not just that, but Holland should hear the truth from me solely! In addition, the place is a state! You'd think after a day of chaos one should return to a comforting abode. That's besides the point, the point is that Holland and Paris will be aware that they're in great danger, but won't be able to comprehend it, increasing the risk of harm to come our way. I also don't want them to feel like prisoners and hate me for it.

"Why did you tell him?" I gritted through my teeth as I grabbed a glass, avoiding sharp pieces on the floor.

"Sire, he has genius on his side. He somehow unlocked the code to your office, took his device, opened up your computer and had a nosy. He then set a trap for me in his moment of craze and forced me to admit to any information that's been found." Grant said honestly, picking up broken ornaments and glass.

"What does he know?" I took slow steps towards the back door.

"He knows what you look like. He found a picture with your name beneath it, standing with Mr Ashford. Only you had started to transition though. He knows that you keep a tally of your sacrificed lambs, but he doesn't know what it means. He was angered when he read a note on your fondness with Mr Ashford, and I believe that's about it." Mr Grant was stoic with his expression.

"How is there a picture of my transition? That's absurd. I'm going to fucking scrap technology!" I grabbed a couple anti-sickness pills and walked off.

As I stepped back into the garden I see Holland laying on a bench, a puddle of vomit occupying where he last stood. I didn't rush over to him, because I too have to be weary. How the fuck did he manage to witness my classified privacy? The picture thing was a mindfuck, because I never took or had photos taken of me during a transition.
What else does he know?

His face looked pale, his lips looked purple/blue. His eyes were shut, but he was dehydrated so he needed to wake up. I crouched down beside him and set the glass of water aside. I cautiously placed my hand on top of his abnormally cold hands, feeling pissed off by the sparks we shared. He now knows something which he doesn't understand and will lack appreciation to want to understand it. Moments ago he looked at me and spoke to me with great dismal detest. It hurts that HE views me as the devil, especially when the real devil is on his way to try and sink me and my domain. I need Holland on my side more than ever.

I gently shook him.
"Wake up... you need to hydrate." I sighed, not sure on how to go about my day. It was early AM and I'm energy deprived.

He didn't move. I didn't want him to keep vomiting or vomit unconsciously, so I opened his mouth and popped a pill in there with a tiny bit of water to dissolve it. I dipped my thumb in the water to coat his lips with it, so his mouth wasn't completely dry. I put the glass down and threw the other pill so I could pick him up and put him to bed.

I could feel his heartbeat and his shallow breathing, but his body was oddly light and limp. Perhaps my imagination is somewhat distorted.

Shall I call Chris or do I sleep?