Mercy (ManxBoy)

37: ∂σи'т ℓєт gσ

 Hold me tight and don't let go, don't let go,

Have the right to loose control, don't let go.

S Y K E S:

Being on the run with Zaire is unreasonably fun. I haven't even got my phone turned on so I don't know what is going on with work, I don't have to think about anything but being here in this moment. That feels nice, because it seems like through our entire relationship, things have just been... fast. 

Not that I'm complaining. I'd take any relationship with Zaire, fast, slow or otherwise. I loved the way we are, and even if sometimes I wish I had taken things slower than I did, I don't regret it. 

The fast pace put us where we are. 

The light drifting in the windows alerted me that it was early morning, and I knew we'd soon be getting up to go eat something at Rhondas, but I didn't mind it. I was used to waking up early. I'd been on the same schedule for so long, not getting up makes me feel lazy.

 My side is killing me, but I couldn't find it within myself to tell Zaire that. I knew it'd worried him silly at home, and it seems like he's about, not forgot about it, but... calmed down about it a bit. It was relieving to me, because he'd driven us both crazy. 

I'd read his journal while I was sick, and I enjoyed knowing he liked taking care of me. It made me happy. I enjoyed him doting on me in the way only a slave would. 

While I was being served, I felt like the luckiest man on the planet. Who else would have a slave like Zaire who took on all the responsibilities that he did, without even being asked? 

He'd even sent Marissa away, in favor of doing everything himself. That made me unreasonably happy. Just knowing that Zaire took care, and provided me with my meals, drinks and the like made me feel like a proud master. 

I couldn't find one thing about Zaire I wasn't proud of. He is utterly gorgeous, sweet, soft spoken when he's not upset, and overall very likable. There isn't anything I could complain about... except all the secrets he'd kept. 

But even I could understand that. 

He was witness protection, and you can't just tell people that. It's not safe. And talking about abuse, no matter how long it's been since you were subjected to it isn't easy. It's like reliving the experience, and I knew that wouldn't be easy on him. 

Between this douche-bag Jerome who's apparently out for revenge, and his nut-case ex-boyfriend, he's got some issues. 

And this whole... hooker business kind of got under my skin, but not for why I'd thought it would. It was more of a, wow I wish I could have helped him back then, than a wow, that's disgusting.

I'd always looked at hookers from afar and wondered about them. I wondered how they could do what they do, and still be able to look themselves in the eyes. I wondered how they got so low that they would resort to selling their own bodies. I wondered how they ended up having to do that in the first place. I mean, don't they have parents? I know that if I lost everything today, I could go talk to my dad and he'd take care of everything even if he was a shitty father for me growing up. 

He'd never let me down before, even though he was hard on me. He'd never hurt me physically, at least. Sometimes he said some things he shouldn't have, but what parent hasn't? I know my parents didn't exactly win parents of the year awards, but they weren't the worst parents I knew. 

After some deep thought while I was driving I realized what I was missing. 

I wasn't missing some great big vital piece of a picture, but I was missing a lot of smaller pieces I had thought I could live without.