"Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition."
- James Baldwin
"Wake up, Babycakes." I continue to leave trails of light kisses around his back, trying not to frown at the abundance of scars but instead nourishing them.
"I know you threw Mr. Jones off the bed, dude. He's lonely now, you don't feel bad about that?" I look at Mr. Jones who's on the hardwood floor, laying next to his father, Mr. Jones Sr.
My pout appears as I look at their cute faces. What did they ever do wrong?
I squeal as Dalaric turns from under me, my body right on top of his now with my face mushed into his chest.
"He was holding you." I muffle a giggle because he's jealous of an inanimate stuffed animal.
"And I was cold." I pout and murmur a 'sorry' that I didn't hold my boyfriend instead.
Not my fault he got me a cuddly penguin. I'm pretty sure Dalaric has a prestige heating system in this house, doesn't he?
"It's okie. I won't ever let my boyfriend be lonely. Like the two penguins on the floor right now."
Dalaric hums with a 'Damn right' as my heart flutters at him actually being my boyfriend. I can say it anytime I want too.
"I got drool on your back, boyfriend." I mumble, caressing his sculpted stomach and drawing happy faces.
I'm happy.
He only hums as he pushes my hair away from my face, gathering it in a bun after taking the hair tie from my wrist. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, letting him wrap his arms around me.
Dalaric moves his hand under our turtleneck and massages the skin on my sides. He says it's soft.
"I've got a meeting." Dalaric mumbles, in his morning voice. I make a mental note to record it and play it on repeat.
Never mind, that's weird, even for me.
"How long will it take?" I ask, the worry I always feel coming back.
Dalaric has to meet with officials every few weeks to supervise training because he's a leader. Very hot. I still think he should have tea parties instead.
"Two days." Oh. That's not a few hours.
"Where is it?" He forces my head back into his neck after I pout at him, wrapping me tighter in my burrito style blanket and smoothing my eyebrows.
Dalaric is so weird.
"Canada."
"I've always wanted to go to Canada..."
Please let me come too, is what I actually want to say.
"I'll take you."
My mouth opens to squeak excitedly before he interrupts me.
"But not today." I can't help but grumble.
I've been so used to having him near me and now I don't think he should be any place else. What if he gets hurt?
"What if you get hurt? Who's going-"
"Stop." He needs to accept that only I can save him in times of danger. And maybe Mr. Jones.
Dalaric pats my bahookie and tells me to get ready so he can drop me off.
I make my way into the washroom, clad in one of his turtlenecks and my penguin print sleeping shorts. Humming to a System of a Down song, I try to pop one of the pimples on my forehead.
My forehead always gets bumpy for no reason. Fatima ordered me to stop touching the cute bumps and try an alcohol-free toner but I keep forgetting to buy it.
I take off the turtle neck, ready for a hot shower under Dalaric's sprinkly shower system. It also has a little place where you can sit. I think of ways to combat the climate crisis as I wash my hair. Shower thoughts are either the craziest or most revolutionary.
Picking out a white sports bra, I put on my unmatched underwear. Just as I'm done putting on my mother- or mom, I really don't know- jeans, the door swivels open and I shriek.
Dalaric's eyes move around with a confused expression as his initial words slowly die down when he notices me, or the scars on my shoulders and arms.
"Pancakes or-"
What I expected was for his eyes to wander to my below-average boobies but instead, they zeroed in, rather darkly, on my scars that have transformed to white lines with a pink hue. I hope he doesn't notice the weird patch of hair on my stomach.
Gulp. There goes my plan to hide them from him for eternity.
Slowly, he walks forward as his eyes remain on the wounds. I don't know what to do so I just stare at his dark grey hoodie with three lines on it. Only when he stops right in front of me, do I feel the lightest touch on my shoulder.
He stands there, tracing the scar before his warm finger moves to my upper arm. Mama was angry. Dalaric clenches his eyes as if he's in pain before looking into mine.
He bends down and gives the scar a kiss with an expression of contemplation, as if he's not sure that's what you're supposed to do.
"Fine?"
He has a vulnerable look in his eyes and my heart threatens to burst. His eyes hold anxiousness as he asks me if he can continue. I wish he could kiss all of my scars away.
He kisses it again before glaring at it, cursing it for whatever reason. My heart just flatlined.
The warm pair of lips ends up on my cheek before his hands cradle my face, slightly squishing my cheeks which renders me speechless.
He takes off his hoodie and in the blink of an eye, shoves it on me without caring to fit the sleeves into my arm.
Dalaric, who's now shirtless, carries me bridal style and I yelp as he walks out of the washroom.
"W-what are you doing?" I try to speak but he interrupts me, his voice gentle.
"Shhh." He puts my face back into the crook of his neck, a protective hand over my head.
Did this caveman just shh me?
"Did you just-"
"Shut up or I'll shoot Mr. Jones."
He wouldn't. I caught Dalaric hugging Mr. Jones at night. They're so cute.
He puts me on the black counter and studies me. Dalaric likes physical contact when he's stressed so I inch closer to him, a frown on my face.
"I need to wear my shirt-" I love his hoodies but I was really excited about wearing the U2 tee I got a few weeks ago at the thrift store next to the café.
"No you don't. You're mine." He states as a matter-of-factly genuinely confused that I would want to wear anything but his clothes.
I glare at him but secretly coo when he puts my arms into the sleeves of the hoodie and tightens the draw strings.
"My chubby heart is yours, you...you caveman. Not my body." Dalaric glares at me but kisses my forehead anyways, trying to rub away a bump on my forehead. I really should get that toner.
My face falls and Dalaric, probably noticing my bad mood, turns it towards him. He looks into my eyes as if he was expecting tears and even goes so far to pry one of them wide open.
His face holds confusion and worry as he lifts a brow, silently asking me what's wrong. The fingers massaging my hips slightly distract me.
"Please don't tell anyone." I say softly, afraid that Mama would get hurt.
My fingers try to smoothen out a wrinkle on his black office shirt, that he has in a drawer of his kitchen for emergency purposes. He's weird like that. Just how rich is he?
"I won't." I sigh in relief, I trust him.
"Now tell me what's wrong." He sighs and I give up trying to be emotionless.
My pout returns as I lay my forehead on his chest, slightly banging my head on it.
"It's just- It's day one and my boyfriend is already leaving me."
Dalaric pulls my head off his chest, squishing my face with one of his large hands as my eyes glance at the protruding veins on his arms. Drool.
"Don't fucking say it like that. I'll be back in two days, fine? Jan and Rafael are here if you need anything. And I'm calling you every two hours."
A small smile covers my face, my heart feeling lighter. I can stay two days without him, right?
"Fine. And you promise you won't look at any other girls with a larger bahookie than me?"
He's mine and mine only so he better not. I possessively grab his hand as we sit around the dining table. Mine.
"Fuck no. Never. Now eat." I nod, approving of his answer before he shakes his head and plops a grape into my mouth.
Dalaric, an absolute gift from God, made a big stack of pancakes along with strawberry tea for us. I rearrange the cut blueberries and strawberries into a penguin and gasp when Dalaric cuts into it with a knife with a very, very small smirk.
"You just murdered an innocent, boyfriend."
☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎
"Pick a number. 3, 10 or uhh-24." I bite my lip in anticipation as Dalaric helps me out of the car.
He shuts the door and turns to me with a blank expression.
"Three."
I nod before standing on my toes to hold his soft face, one set of fingers running through his braided hair. He bends down a bit, a dark look in his eyes as I lick my lips. They soon meet his not once, but thrice as he wished.
After I'm done kissing my boyfriend- that sounded so cool- I stand back and grin at his slightly swollen lips. That's my mark right there.
"I said Twenty-four."
Classic Dalaric. So greedy for some smooches. But whatever makes him happy. It's only after a few long, long minutes of heated desire that I realize I'm not going to see him for two whole days.
I stuffed Mr. Jones into his duffel bag when he wasn't looking so now he has two guardian angels. Selfishly enough, I'm keeping Mr. Jones Sr. to myself because he smells like Dalaric.
"You've got everything packed, yes? Did you take the hand cream? I left it on the nightstand- wait, I might have one with me-"
"Mayella." He sighs, pulling me closer to him and mushing my face into his shirt.
He put on a black coat over it and he looks perfect. Maybe too perfect?
"Are you wearing this?" I pull back as he raises a brow.
"Don't you have something more...covering?" My eyes focus onto the small part of his tanned chest that is showing. If I can see it, so can other girls. He's mine, though.
Dalaric looks amused at my question and leans against the car, folding his arms.
I walk over and button up the coat, not doing much to cover up his attractiveness. Sigh. Maybe a cloth over his face?
He doesn't oppose, as he should, and I gleam at my work.
"There, now you're somewhat modest. No ogling eyes on you, mister. Got it?" If what everyone wears matters so much, then he's going to be wrapped in layers of clothes if it was up to me.
I know this isn't going to prevent girls from shamelessly scanning him like a printer, just like I did when I met him.
Fatima tells me to lower my gaze when we walk around other men and I prefer that than to look at anyone but my man.
"I'm going to miss you, my man. Please drive safe, okay?" Dalaric nods.
I know I'm overreacting but I don't want to feel the way I do when Mama leaves. Helpless. I have to know how he is, if he's eaten or if he's feeling down and needs a dancing penguin emoji.
I think I have abandonment issues. I should google that.
"Text me." is all he says as he kisses my hands before doing the same to my cheeks.
I wave, like in the really sad movies, and Dalaric shakes his head before driving out of the school parking lot.
I'm slightly late for first period but it doesn't matter that much since school is ending in about a month. Clancy waves at me as I take a seat next to him after greeting Mr. Gnawshire with a smile.
"Why the solemn expression, Ms. Morrison?" His attempt at a British accent makes me giggle.
"Nothing." I don't bother telling him, not used to people wanting to know about the reasoning behind my issues.
"How are things with Helen?"
Clancy blushes with a pink tint which I find so adorable, "I'm going to ask her out tonight."
"Wait- boys have to ask that first?" Did I mess it all up? Oh my God.
I'll be discussing this with Dalaric soon.
"I guess. I'm not sure."
We both shut up when Mr. Gnawshire starts giving out our essays.
I cross my fingers, hoping the nights I spent studying recently were worth it.
Dalaric had to peel me off the dining table sometimes and often brought me hot milk to concentrate.
I think I'm falling i-
"Good job, beta. Highest in the class."
Yay.
I grin at my teacher, trying not to squeal before sending a picture of the red A star on the front page to Dalaric.
☁︎︎ ☁︎︎ ☁︎︎
School ends and I find myself walking towards a red, strikingly colorful jeep that's awkwardly parked, not at all parallel like how it's supposed to be.
Dalaric can parallel park flawlessly.
Good going, Maya. Think about him more, won't you?
My gaze subconsciously wanders to the red car and I stifle a laugh when I notice Jan and Rafael bickering in the front seats with Fatima in the back who's polishing her guns. She's an icon.
I knock twice on the window before Rafael unlocks the door and lets me in. Fatima does this two side face kiss with me which she says is a common greeting in her country.
"Boss is going to kill us when he find out we didn't open the door for her." Rafael tries to whisper to Jan, who rolls his eyes at him and then narrows them at me.
"Greetings, tellytubby."
"Greetings, head of security that can't do his job." I narrow my eyes back at Jan who gasps, shocked that I retorted.
I instantly feel guilty so I send him a genuine smile and his scowling expression softens.
"How are you guys?" I ask as I push away Fatima's silver gun that is too close to me. She sends me a sheepish smile and tucks it in her jacket. So badass.
"We're good, munchkin." Fatima and Rafael answer at the same time, Jan putting on a country song that I bob my head to.
"You like?" Fatima points to her hijab as the car starts moving. I don't want to go home.
You haven't seen her in days, Mayella. She might be hurt.
I shake those thoughts out of my head, not wanting to ruin the time with my friends and smile at Fatima.
"I love it. Beige looks good on you!" She thanks me as she flips the longer side of her headscarf with a smug expression.
"I'm going shopping for some more tomorrow, want to come along?" I nod, already very excited.
I love hanging out with Fatima. Not only is she super kind, she's confident and very spiritual.
Fatima tells me she needs new outfits for Ramadan. It's a whole month of fasting. She explains the reasoning behind it and I listen in awe. Everyone needs friends who can expose them to different things every day. I refrain myself from asking if I can perhaps join one of her evening meals or iftar.
"Munchkin, if you've got a question, ask. We're all friends here, you 'lil cookie." Fatima pinches my cheeks and I try to glare at her.
Why is she so obsessed with my cheeks?
"Can I uh-maybe join you and your family once? I just- I just want to see how it's like? It's okay-"
"Of course you can! You can even fast with us if you'd like..."
The rest of the car ride is spent with her telling me all about the customs and me taking a few notes on my phone while avoiding the folder that says 'Dalaric-First times'. Sigh.
We stop in front of my apartment and I try to fake a smile. I really don't want to go in there.
Raphael looks at the rusty building in distaste. "Your boy's a millionaire and you live here?"
Fatima smacks him on his head, looking at me with concern.
My house isn't that bad. Wait-Dalaric's a millionaire? He could buy me so many more penguins. Maybe even real ones. Or a zoo!
"You're thinking about how many penguins he could buy you, aren't you?" Fatima crosses her arms and looks at me knowingly.
Jan walks forward and slings an arm around my shoulder, rubbing his knuckles on my head, obviously messing up my bun.
"If I was with a god damn millionaire, I sure as hell wouldn't be thinking about something that uncool. Little Tellytubby here is just built different, aren't you?" He coos at me and pinches my nose.
Why is he so weird? You only boop noses.
Everything keeps reminding me of him. Darn it.
"Ricky's going to kill you." Fatima deadpans as she pulls me away.
I feel like a teddy bear amidst wolves. I miss my teddy bear. I hug each of them goodbye, eyeing Jan weirdly when he comes in for a hug. He pinches my nose as expected.
Sending Dalaric a house emoji to tell him I'm safe, I make my way into the building.
I've spent so much time at Dalaric's that I've forgotten my own home and the worst part is that I don't miss it. I don't miss the pain that the four, poorly painted walls remind me of.
My steps are slow and small as I open the door, a rusty smell making its way into my senses.
Please don't be here.
Please don't be here.
Please don't be here.
Please don't be here.
Sighing in relief when I don't find her in any of the rooms, I plop myself onto my bed that's nice and clean.
My phone buzzes with a chirping sound that is similar to the one penguins make when calling for a mate which means only one thing; Dalaric texted.
My Babycakes/Boyfriend 🐧: Eat your sandwich.
What sandwich?
My Babycakes/Boyfriend 🐧: Right pocket of your bag.
I reach over to my bag that's lying on the opposite side of my room. Since I'm lazy, I keep my entire body on the bed as I slither on the floor to get it. My fingers come in contact with a soft plastic thing and I smile as I take out the foiled PB&J sandwich.
Thank you, babycakes.
My Babycakes/Boyfriend 🐧: Always.
He's my always.
My fingers move quick, almost unconsciously to say the three words that I desperately need to say.
Before the text is sent, an abrupt and harsh sound echoes in the house, immediately sending my phone out of my hands and onto the floor.
Mama?
I put on a hoodie, covering every bit of skin that I can before taking wary steps towards the living room where I can hear some shuffling.
"Mama?"
She turns to me and I almost gasp at her condition. Her blonde hair is matted onto her head and falls in disoriented lines. Her eyes are red and stand out along with her protruding cheekbones. I can tell she hasn't been eating.
My hands go up to my mouth to stifle a sob as I look at her form.
Her clothes are ripped and I can see a section of her ribcage poking out from the thin surface of her skin. She's wearing loose pants that stick to patches of dirt and a white tank top that is in miserable condition.
"You..You filth." Mama points a thin finger at me. I cower back, afraid of what she might do to me.
"They're coming for me. And it's all your fault." I shake my head, denying any accusations. I would never do something like that.
I would never hurt my mama.
My feet try to take me backwards but my steps are too slow. I realise that its too late to run when she lunges at me and grab my hair making me scream in pain.
"M-mama no- Mama! Please..." I beg her to stop, to stop hurting me for once.
"Shut up, you useless piece of shit! You told them, didn't you? Told them about where I was going? And now they're coming for me. Was it a cop, huh?"
My head shakes once again.
I don't know what you're talking about, I want to say. But my throat constricts and dries up from the immense fear I feel.
She pulls on my hair, almost dragging me to the door before releasing me. I sob uncontrollably as I let myself collapse, hugging his hoodie tighter. Please don't hurt me.
Mama clutches her head before rummaging through a plastic bag. She picks up a few alcohol bottles and plastic packets and scatters it on the floor on which I once played games with my father. She grabs a set of clothes and a pack of cigarettes, stuffing it into the bag.
Mama walks towards me and I inch closer to the wall behind.
Please don't hurt me.
"Listen here, bitch. Don't you dare tell anyone that I've been here. You already killed your father, it'd be a shame if I die at your hands too."
I look up at the woman I still call mama and nod out of fear, rubbing my stinging eyes.
She lifts me up by the arm, her unclipped nails piercing the skin.
Mama's hand, the one that once fed me and bathed me, makes contact with my right cheek which sends me backwards, giving her space to step over me and unlock the door.
I clutch her leg, afraid that she's leaving me again and is going to get herself hurt again.
"M-mama, please don't leave. Y-you need help. Mama, please." I cry and beg, hoping that she'll listen to me for once.
She scoffs and kicks my hand away before shutting the door on my face and leaving me in the corner of the four walls I no longer consider a home.
As I clutch my right cheek, the same one that was adorned by kisses just this morning,
I question whether any place will truly ever feel like home again.
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