Master, my Master | boyxboy | [alternate happy ending]

XVII - The Calm

A touch.

Soft.

Oh, like that...

A whisper.

Faint.

Don't stop...

A pull.

Hard.

Keep going...

A moan.

Quiet.

Shh...

A kiss.

Sweet.

Yes...

A word.

Love.

Say it again...

Eli awoke from the pleasant dream, his eyes slowly opening to the morning light shining in through the windows. He rubbed them, filling his vision with strange floating drops. He'd fallen asleep in his mother's rocking chair for only a couple hours, and his back ached from the odd position.

And his dream...oh, that damn dream...he was making love to someone, someone whose face he could not distinguish, not even their hair. All he saw were hands, pale white skin, and pretty pink lips. Eli didn't want to know who it had been in the dream, calling his name, begging for his caress. He figured he was better off forgetting the entire thing. Because, what if the person had been...

No, that's enough.

Eli rose from the achy chair, stretching his long legs and arms until his body was fully awake. He'd gotten at least two hours of sleep, and felt like total rubbish. Last night his mind was too swamped to drift away, but finally after hours of silence and loneliness, the disquieting thoughts vanished to give him at least a moments rest.

While everyone else was asleep, Eli figured a nice stroll by himself would help in settling his nerves. Strapping his boots on, he tied his hair into a low tail and started out.

The morning wasn't threatening rain today, but the clouds were still filling the sky with a weary grey, giving Brimonhive its usual dull and uninspiring feel. After several minutes of walking, feeling November's chill on his sun-tanned skin, hearing the wilderness around him, Eli soon found himself at the mouth of a place quite familiar to him.

This was the place he'd met Jasper face to face for the first time. This shadowy path running through the forest. His mind flickered images of that time, picturing the fearful ten-year-old lying on the hard ground, filled to the very brim of his being with untamable terror. Jasper Lancechester, his arm slashed open, blood blemishing his flesh, miserable tears tarnishing his countenance...

How come in that moment, that vast moment, why couldn't Eli have fallen for Jasper then, when they were young, when they needed each other the most? Jasper had needed an escape, and Eli had needed guidance in who he was. Why couldn't they have given each other that then?

With his mind traveling back, Eli breathed out, fractured, and envisioned the moment when he'd kissed Jasper's wound. In that second, he'd wanted to know Jasper, to shelter the broken boy, for hells' sake he'd gambled his very life to save the boy, but he hadn't been given the chance to further their meeting. After all, that's what Eli was, a protector, he was born to protect the ones he loved, but why did that have to be the only thing about his life that he understood?

And then there was Silas Rosenkrantz.

Of course, Eli would never regret running into the boy with crooked glasses. In spite of everything, he had been the one to give Eli understanding, and Eli was grateful for that. He just wished... things would've played out a little differently.