Mercy (ManxBoy)

26: му σвѕєѕѕισи

Wrap your name in lace and leather,

I can hear you you don't need to talk.

S Y K E S:

I couldn't tell you one time I'd ever held someones hair back while they puked, aside from this time. I'd been one to simply say fuck off, and let them take care of themselves while I go do something elsewhere. Zaire looked so helpless and pitiful I couldn't bare to leave him. He was so sweet as he tried to tell me to leave him there alone.

I brushed the hair off his forehead gently, and kissed it. He'd woken up sometime earlier and said he felt somewhat better. He'd held down a bowl of chicken soup, and he'd slept since. I was glad to see him getting better, and relieved.

He looked so bad all night last night. I'd been so worried he would get worse I hadn't even had the desire to move.

My phone ringing on the night stand brought me out of my thoughts, and I picked it up. "Hello?" I asked, and I heard Terrance sigh.

"Hey boss." He said, his voice sounding tight and stressed. "How is Zaire?"

"He's getting better." I admitted, pushing his hair out of his face as he slept. Every time I'd smooth his hair down he'd shift and it'd mess his hair back up. "He held down a bowl of soup."

"That's good." He said, then paused. "What I have to say isn't good."

"Oh great." I drawled, and he sighed.

"I caught some punk trying to break into Zaire's old apartment." He said, I sighed deeply. "I didn't stop him, but I did take down the license  plate number on his car."

"And who was it registered to?" I asked.

"One Steven Knightly." He said, and my blood chilled.

"Do not let that son of a bitch out of your sight." I growled.

"He didn't tou-" Terrance said, and I shook my head.

"No you're right. If Zaire had of been there though, he could have been kidnapped, raped or god only knows what else. Follow that pussy and once you see him doing anything even slightly against the law, confront him. I don't give a shit if you have to punch the bastard in the face get him to punch you. I'll take that motherfucker on in a court battle that'll land him twelve life-times in jail." As I slammed my phone down on the bed in front of me, I could feel my blood boiling, and I couldn't tell if it was because of my intense hatred for that monster, or the fact that my baby could've once again gotten hurt if he had of been home.

I am so glad that I had him move in with me before we went to Illinois. I had felt strongly about getting it done, and I'd even helped him do it. I didn't waste time to hire movers or anything, we'd packed his belongings in my car, his car, and Terrances car and got him moved in a day. He had settled in, his stuff meshing well with mine, surprisingly.

You could barely tell the difference between our sides of the room. His was neater than mine, surprisingly. I kept my room a lot neater than my office, and I'd never seen someone be able to keep their stuff as neat as mine, but he was even more so clean. His things practically blended in with mine, and I was mildly excited about that.

Just knowing that we had such similar taste made me happy. I liked knowing that we had a lot in common, aside from just BDSM. It made our relationship have depth, and it gave me a slight comfort to know that he wouldn't be bored by some of the things I enjoy.

Knowing that Steven was in the same state as Zaire bothered me, though. Just knowing that he'd come cross country to try and get back with him pissed me the hell off. I dare him to come within six hundred feet of my baby. And so help me god, if he touches him  I'll put a bullet between his eyes before he can even utter the words oops.