Mercy (ManxBoy)

46: ¢αgє∂

(WARNING: this has murder and talk of rape in it. If you can't handle it, please don't read the last of it. If you can't read it, simply comment and I'll summarize what happens. Thanks to anyone who reads and comments.)

My heart is covered with thoughts entangled,

How could it ever have felt so real? 

S Y K E S:

Waking up with Zaire in my arms the day that this whole confrontation was going down was surreal. I knew that there was a chance that everything could go horribly wrong, that  Zaire could die... that I could die. 

I don't want to die, nor do I want Zaire to die. I realize that I don't have power over if he lives or dies but I do know that I love him, and if it came down to either one of us, I'd chose him. I would step in front of a bullet for him, a blade, I wouldn't care. 

At the end of the day, all that truthfully matters to me anymore is Zaire. If Zaire is happy, safe... I don't care what I become. Whether its a corpse in the ground, or the happiest man alive, I know that if Zaire is okay, I'll be okay. Dead maybe, but okay. 

I also knew that Zaire would never let me take another bullet for him, get stabbed for him. He'd do the same for me. But, I had to show him... I had to make him see.

I've lived years over what he has, and I have accepted the fact that eventually, anything alive dies. But, I'm not ready for him to die. He's so good, so amazing. He can change this shitty world, make it something better, even if he doesn't know it yet. 

I looked over at Zaire, who had on leather jeans and a leather jacket, his collar sported proudly around his neck as he slipped a gun into the holster on his side. I looked over him, taking in his entire appearance.

He was gorgeous, no matter what he wore. The dark hair suited him as well as the blonde did, and his clothes didn't much matter. But, there was something about Zaire wearing those skin tight leather jeans and that jacket to conceal his weapon that made my dick harden slightly. I'd never been into gothic types, having always written them off as angsty teenagers, but on Zaire I could see the appeal.

Though I knew it was only for the moment, him looking goth made me realize a few things. One, yeah he's a good guy, but he's got a dark side. One he keeps hidden very deep inside of himself. It's probably why he became a slave, so he could escape it. Two, he's not that much older than a teenager himself. He's only twenty three, and he's got a lot of life left in him. I don't. 

But I was in too deep to say goodbye now. Zaire is my entire world and now that Alexei is moving back in with his father, I don't really have much to hang onto. I haven't had time to tell Zaire, but... I didn't want to mention it anyway.

Mentioning it meant talking about it, and talking about it meant it was real. I still had today to live in my own fantasy world where when I get home, Alexei will be there waiting patiently on the couch with Terrance and his lover. 

Of course, I'm a bit too old to be living by means of fantasies, but I found that at least while I am imagining these things, I can still process and breathe. Once I really sit down and realize Alexei is leaving, I'll be crushed. 

Zaire has filled in like a mother would, and I had been the father. Though we didn't have an actual child together, having Alexei had been close. And, I loved it. Secretly, I honestly did want a child with Zaire. If I had one, I'd be ecstatic. Zaire, Alexei and I made a family. We were all happy, and we fit together perfectly. It felt like we were a family together. I couldn't explain it any other way. 

Suddenly I was pulled from my thoughts when a soft, nurturing hand slowly traced the line of hairline, fingers gently teasing my forehead. I looked up into brilliant blue eyes, "Yes sweets?" I asked and he blushed, looking down shyly.