Chapter Eighty Seven
"Are you sure about this?"
"More than sure. Do not doubt yourself."
"Oh, I am, really hardcore doubting... I'm having so many doubts--"
"Silence," Sebastian ordered, cupping my chin and tilting my head back so our eyes could meet; he flashed a soft look my way, soothing my fears almost instantaneously. "You are a beautiful man both inside and out, Aerin... what you're wearing doesn't matter. It suits you."
I swallowed hard, looking around at the old plantation house's long driveway.
The scenery was as beautiful and neat and awe-inspiring as ever, but knowing what was waiting inside those pretty spires and pillars and glass made me anxious. I fiddled with my hands, shifting my weight from foot to foot, and stared at Sebastian's beautiful, oversized home.
"You mean it?" I quietly asked. "You don't think it'll rub them the wrong way?"
"It shouldn't," he grunted. "The boundaries of human society typically do not apply to creatures of the underground."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean," he said a little irritably, "that it is not an uncommon practice for wolves and other races to find love and life with someone of the same gender. Finding the one soul who can make your heart race is special... to ignore it would be a fool's choice. Many humans live unhappy lives attempting to conform to what society dictates, and I cannot help but feel that they are foolish."
"True," I muttered, getting a flashback to the day William had come out to his family. "Very true..."
William's parents had been hardcore Catholics and had very nearly disowned him for being with me. That night, I'd endured being screamed at and cursed out for literal hours. They'd told me to my face that gays would burn and rot in hell, told me that I'd corrupted their son and that my evil wasn't welcome in their home or in their lives. They'd flaunted their rosaries at me, too.
Like, being Gay was contagious or something.
William, much to my shock and theirs, had eventually grown a backbone and bitched them out in a way I hadn't seen before or since. He'd said, in his own words, that he'd been attracted to guys since before he'd even hit puberty and the reason he'd never said anything about it was because he'd known all along that they would react negatively.
He'd told them that if they wanted to let their religion destroy their relationship with him, he was fine with it. He'd said that he'd choose me over them any day, because at least with me he could be himself and not have to worry about being verbally and emotionally abused.
They'd been so shocked that they hadn't said a word.
To be fair, though, he hadn't given them the chance to say anything and had taken my hand, forcibly dragging me out of his parents' house. I'd been in shock. His family had been in shock. Even he'd been in shock, to some degree, but more than anything... for the entire drive home, I'd been able to tell that he'd been positively fuming, too.
"I'm so, so sorry, Babe," he'd hissed through his teeth. "I knew they were going to react badly, but this was worse than I expected. Fuck them and fuck their religion. Let's just go home."
"Don't say that," I'd immediately soothed, patting his arm. "Give them time to process. People need it to let these sorts of things sink in, anyway. Plus... I'm a Christian myself. I believe in God and I sometimes even read the Bible when I'm too stressed for my own good."
"Christianity dictates that gay people should and will burn in hell, too," he'd muttered.
"That's strictly old testament," I'd laughed, "and if people were really going to follow every rule of the bible scripture by scripture, there's other things they should be worrying about."
"Like what?"
"Like not wearing mixed fabrics, such as a polyester and cotton combo," I snorted. "Like not eating pork. And seafood. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. When I was in college, I came across a lot of overly macho and extremely over-the-top homophobic assholes who told me that marriage was between a man and a woman, not a man and a man or a woman and a woman... but in literally every book of the old testament, polygamy and sexual enslavement was running rampant."
"Wait... what?" he'd asked, pulling over so he could look me dead in the eye. "Are you serious?"
"Damn right I'm serious," I'd instantly laughed, shaking my head. "People are always talking about how God hates gay people or whatever, and their excuse when they're confronted about it is that its in the Bible, but I mean, come on... it's in the old testament."
Which was true.
I'd explained everything to him, the same way I'd done in my very last college debate.
Believe you me, I'd done my research since I'd been very outspoken during my college years. It had already been scientifically proven that people having a specific sexual preference was something predetermined due to the hormones a fetus was exposed to while in utero.
Science had shed light on it, had even proven that very point with unarguable facts, yet people back then had still believed with all of their damn hearts that being gay was a choice. Kids who came out to their parents were sent to reform camps to 'erase' the gay and make them 'normal.'
Others were disowned. Ended up homeless. Abandoned.
You know, like I was.
Whenever I thought about those years, though, I always came back to just one simple question.
What was normal, really?
I mean, I certainly wasn't, in any regard: I was a gay vampire who looked like a girl and had fallen head over heels in love with a semi-psychopathic werewolf who'd gone from abusing me to warming up to me to loving me like a crazy man. Normal wasn't in my vocabulary.
It was not my middle name, nor would it ever be my middle name.
I felt normal, sometimes, don't get me wrong... my mind still worked like a normal person's and I was still the same guy I'd always been... but the fact is, I am the furthest thing from normal. The subject of normalcy didn't make sense to me back then, and it didn't make sense now.
Normal was nothing more than a measuring stick that people used to compare their differences.
Normal was the state that people used to make others conform in a certain way.
Ideals, morals, immorality, the difference between right and wrong stemmed from the illusion of normality. In a perfect world, being normal would mean being uniform. Identical. Which is why I'd never understood why people wanted it so badly. Being gay was controversial because it defied the laws of normalcy. Because it was different, and differences could disturb people.
That was why it was contested and suppressed at every turn back in the early and mid 2000s.
From the religious excuses that people used to bash being gay, to the false accusations, to the mockery of same-sex couples, to shaming, to jokes, and so many other things from comedy sitcoms painting gay people in a shallow, if not terrible light, the LGBT community had fought against everything and had come out of hiding, one little bit at a time, until thousands had tasted the happiness of freedom, of not needing to hide who they were.
Freedom, for them, was to fully stop trying to be normal.
I'd personally never hidden who I was. Hadn't understood or comprehended the need to. I was a simple individual, straightforward and sound, but slow when it came to communicating and understanding other people. Plus, with my looks and mannerisms, it had been easy for anyone who learned that I was a guy to figure out immediately that I was, in fact, a homosexual.
I'd been subjected to hate before, especially in my college years, and I owed Jehan more than I could repay because the one time I'd gotten cornered and beaten up in a bathroom by a bunch of closed-minded assholes who's only issue with me was that I liked guys, he'd destroyed them.
And I mean, destroyed.
Two of the guys had ended up crippled to some degree, and he'd gotten arrested and had spent a year in prison because of it. The only reason he hadn't gotten a longer sentence of seven years was because he'd done it in a fit of rage and had legitimately claimed temporary insanity.
The case had gone viral once he'd explained what those 'good, well-mannered white boys' had done to me. It had also originally been blown out of proportion because of his skin color, which was something I'd never understood, either, since people didn't get to pick their parents.
They didn't get to pick their skin like it was an accessory.
I hadn't understood the hate all around me.
And that alone was the main reason why I'd done a gay rights debate in my final year of college.
The hate I couldn't wrap my head around. The feeling of not belonging, of being abandoned by your loved ones, of not being free to be yourself. The bruises from being viciously attacked by homophobic jerks, and of losing your best friend for a year just because he'd done what any man would and should do if someone he loved was attacked the way I was back then.
"You have been making quite an interesting display of faces for the last few minutes," Sebastian suddenly grunted, startling me out of my own brain; I blinked his face back into view, coming out of my memories. "Is it something I should be worried about?"
"No... no, just thinking about my college years," I muttered, shaking my head clear. "I did a debate on gay rights in my final year and ended up making the news. I was just thinking back, and my mind took a turn... ended up somewhere in the vast reaches of la-la land."
"La-la land, hn?" he snorted; he then offered me his arm, the picture of a perfect gentleman which completely contrasted his current leathery badass-looking apparel. "Shall we?"
I took his arm and smiled to myself.
Labels didn't matter anymore.
Not for me, anyway.
We started to walk, and I felt all too aware of how badly I slowed down his long-legged stride.
He's so much taller than me, I mentally sighed, smiling. It still catches me off guard sometimes.
I snuck a glance up at his face when we were halfway to the porch. He stared straight ahead, a smile ghosting at the corners of his lips as he led us up the stairs to nearest set of doors. Hair curled against his jaw, highlighting his exotic bone structure, and I blinked.
How can a guy like him think someone like me is worth dating? I wondered, momentarily confounded by his logic. He's so far out of my league... anyone with a brain would say so.
He noticed my not-so-covert looks and quirked his lips at me.
"You're staring," he said, voice light and playful. "Can't keep your eyes off me, hn?"
I decided to be awkward, bold, and borderline cringe-worthy all at the same time.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're one of the hottest guys on the planet?" I asked him, keeping my voice as deadpan as possible. "Like, really, really hot?"
His smile widened into a sharp-toothed grin and he turned to look down at me.
"It's been brought to my attention," he lazily informed me, "but I worked extremely hard to get this physique and I work even harder to maintain it. Exercise for werewolves is... far more difficult than exercise for humans. Supernatural strength can be a pain sometimes."
"Oh," I said; we had neared the door to the porch. "Is that why you and Woody do push ups so damn fast? Also, how do you guys even do that without latching yourselves to the floor? I mean, theoretically speaking, shouldn't your movements have you guys careening in every direction?"
"If we were going any slower, that would be the case," he explained, reaching out with his free hand and sliding the double doors wide open. "Centrifugal force, however, prevents it from happening. Push ups for us are not simply straight up and down. We swerve ourselves circularly."
"Wait, seriously?" I asked, thinking back; he'd been going so fast I hadn't noticed.
"Indeed," he confirmed, leading me into the familiar entryway; I paused once I walked inside since the grey carpet and double-doored sitting room gave me a momentary flashback. I shivered slightly as half-formed visions of being attacked by Richard played behind my eyes. A hand brushed my cheek and I flinched, but the caress only deepened.
"I am sorry."
I turned to look at him only to see that his face had sunken into a defeated expression.
"For what?" I asked, dazed; I subconsciously leaned into his hand.
"I thought that look would be gone from your eyes," he quietly told me, turning to look at his home, "but I guess I was wrong. You just had... thoughts... about what was done to you here."
"How do you know?" I carefully inquired. "I could have been thinking about anything."
"Your eyes lay everything bare," he rasped, clasping both of my cheeks and kissing my forehead. "You are far easier to read that you realize. I haven't seen you make that face since the night you went to stay with Woodrow... the face of pure fear, of sadness, of... possibly shattering."
I stared at him through glazed vision, lost in a foggy haze of bliss because of his heat.
"I was," I said simply, "but to be fair, all of our new and very happy memories happened at Woody's cottage. We haven't made any wonderful memories here yet... the only memories I have from when I was staying here were frightening and confusing."
"Then," he purred, bumping our foreheads together, "tonight, after the meeting ends, let's make some new ones in my bed."
I snorted at the way he playfully wagged his eyebrows.
"You're hopeless," I said softly, hugging his neck as tightly as I could, "but, that sounds like fun."
"Damn right it does," he whispered into my ear, nipping it with sharp teeth. "And when the end of the night comes around, Beloved... I will love every last inch of you."
A jolt went through me and I squawked, slapping his shoulder amidst the sounds of his chuckles.
"Totally not cute," I scolded, fighting back the hot flush burning my cheeks. "Stop flexing!"
"But you like it when I flex."
"Do not!"
"Oh?" he purred, raising an eyebrow; before my eyes, he then did something I'd never seen him do. He slipped his jacket off, dropped it on the floor, and brought his thick, muscled, burly arms over his head and flexed like a body builder. I saw the ridges in his abdomen jut through his skintight tank top instantly, and my mouth gaped open when I saw how thick his arms were.
He was a big guy standing normally.
When he flexed, he looked even bigger, and far more intimidating. His biceps were, again, bigger than my thighs. Individually, they were almost as big as my waist... bigger than that, even, if I was measuring from a sideways position. He smirked at whatever was on my face and stopped.
Planted a big hand on his well-carved hip, encased by well-fitting low-cut jeans.
"I told you," he said smugly, arrogance born of confidence plastered all over his face. "I'm going to mark every last inch of you as my own. More than any other part of you, that hot ass of yours is going to be marked the most, Aerin. Whether quickly or over time, the end result is the same."
"W-what do you mean?" I squeaked, worried and shocked and embarrassed all at once.
"You know exactly what I mean, Beloved," he chuckled wickedly, stepping forward and leaning down to press a kiss against my lips. My knees nearly buckled but he held me up with a single arm, keeping me in place like an iron bar. When he pulled back, I stared at him, but he smirked and uttered, "I'm going to stretch you the fuck out in the best way possible---"
"AGH!" I squealed, flailing my hands in embarrassment; his face went slack when I aimlessly swatted at the air, face twisted in dismay and many other feelings, but then the strangest thing happened. His orange eyes darkened... crinkled... and a wide grin split his mouth.
Without a word, without a hint, without a second thought, he let out a booming fit of laughter that all but shook the ceiling above us. I felt that laugh in the core of my stomach, hearty and pliant and solid, a laugh I knew I'd be able to pick out of a crowded room if I'd heard it.
I stared at his laughing face as he lost his shit, letting me go so he could hold his stomach.
His fangs jutted out, face warped with a level of delight I'd never before seen him wear.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw movement and turned slightly to see Diana, Richard, Cassidy, Jun, Leo and even Kyle filing out into the hallway only to stand there, frozen in shock, all of them watching as he lost his fucking mind. He laughed until he had no breath left, then heaved for air and let out another earth-shattering guffaw, complexion reddening and eyes streaming tears.
"Oh, God, I love you," he wheezed, pulling me into a vicious hug. "Running into you that night at that pizza parlor was the first miracle I've ever experienced. God, Damn it to hell, this is why I can't stop teasing you, Aerin! The faces you make when you're flustered are fucking priceless!"
"Not funny," I sourly muttered, but he only cracked up some more.
"Very funny," he raspily corrected, coughing deep in the back of his throat; his eyes were still dark with subtle joy when he pulled away, looking at me with amusement-crinkles and quirks all over his normally stoic features. "You make me want to smile and laugh quite often, but I never act on those urges... this time, I couldn't keep it back. It broke free before I could stop it."
"Wait, what?" I asked, staring at him more seriously. "What do you mean you don't act--"
"Later, my love," he murmured, stroking my lips with his thumb; his mouth quivered its way into another smile, as if he were fighting back another fit of laughter. "I will talk with you about such things later. For now, there are others waiting on us. Delaying any further would be rude."
I could wait until he was ready to talk about it, true, but honestly?
It was a shame he didn't laugh like that more often.
It had shaken the core of my being, unexpected and light and... and... handsome. His belly laugh was just as intoxicating as the rest of him, perhaps even moreso because of how little I got to hear it. I'd only ever heard it once before, and even back then it had been a surprise.
I slid my hand into his and held it tightly, smiling at him.
"Let's go, then," I murmured, gesturing at everyone else. "Lead on--"
"No, you wait here," he said quietly, the laughter slowly fading. "I must meet with their alpha first and exchange greetings... after that, you and everyone else will come in. All you need to do when that time comes, Aerin, is make your way over to my side and stand next to me with your head held high. Do not make eye contact with anyone from the other pack but on the flip side... do not let yourself feel even the slightest bit intimidated by any of them, even their alpha."
"Eh?" I asked, startled. "Wait... but, I mean, werewolves are scary--"
"I am aware of what we are like," he said patiently, lips quirking again, "but if you haven't forgotten, oh innocent one, you are currently dating the strongest and wealthiest werewolf alpha on the face of the entire North and South American continents. You have absolutely nothing to fear from the wolves who've come here today."
I gulped, but decided to put my faith in him.
After all, he had a point.
Werewolves were scary mother fuckers, but out of all the ones I'd met, Sebastian was actually the scariest of the scary. I felt a little reassured about that, and shifted my weight when he turned and stalked down the hall, moving with purpose and confidence and... and...
Well, he looked good.
Sue me, I'm honest.
The moment he rounded the corner, however, Leo wordlessly walked into the room they'd come out of, followed by Kyle and Jun and Cassidy and then Diana. Richard, however, simply stood there in the hall looking at me with an expression I couldn't wrap my head around.
He looked equal parts pained, equal parts pissed, and he looked... relieved, too.
Without speaking a word, he shut the door behind him and slowly made his way down the hallway towards me, and I felt a stab of fear hit my stomach as yet another flashback of him tearing into my shoulder assaulted my brain, but he didn't stop and I didn't dare to run.
I remained frozen until he was standing directly in front of me, so close I could smell his scent.
Two hands came down on my shoulders, making me flinch, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
I was mentally prepared to get hurt, to feel claws digging in, to get bitten even, I knew he was--
"He's never laughed like that," Richard said in a hoarse voice, and my eyes slowly fluttered open to see that his normally aggressive eyes were full of tears; I balked, legs nearly buckling at the sight, but his hands tightened on my shoulders to keep me upright. "Not once... in all the years I've ever known him. He has never once laughed like that. Made that face."
"Are... are you serious?" I somehow managed to squeak out, but instead of saying anything... Richard used his grip on me to pull me against his chest. Two hesitant arms came around my back, embracing me tightly, and I felt his bearded chin come to rest on my head.
"I can't... and won't... take his happiness away from him," Richard whispered, patting my back. "I didn't want to accept you... I felt like I was being forced into it. Deep down, I was expecting you to turn rogue, to start hurting us, to... be a monster, like the rest. I... I almost took that laugh away from him. That smile... I almost destroyed it. Can you forgive me? Can he?"
His voice quivered and I felt myself sinking into a panic, since I did NOT handle this sort of thing very well, least of all from people like him!
"H-hey," I whispered, instantly hugging him back and soothingly patting his jacket. "Hey, hey, shhh... it's okay, its water under the bridge, I swear. I... I don't... hate you, okay? I can't hate you... I almost did after the incident with my photo albums, but Sebastian saved them, and since then I've learned a lot more about you and the other werewolves living here. I understand... okay?"
"I love him," Richard shakily whispered. "He saved our lives when they should have been over with, and then he gave us a home... he gave us easy and comfortable lives when the whole world simply wanted us gone. We are too damaged to fit in anywhere else, yet he treats all of us like we matter... regardless of our histories. Sebastian has always been there, always made sure we were comfortable and happy and enjoying ourselves... and the one time... he found happiness.... I..."
He trailed off, squeezing me.
Oh, Lord, how do I deal with this? I mentally wailed, not sure what to do. Aloud, I soothed, "if you're really that regretful about it, why don't you and I start over as friends? I'm probably going to move back in here at some point, anyway, so... I think it'd be nice if I could start building up trusting relationships with you and everyone else here, too."
I heard a heavy sniff and he rubbed my back one last time before pulling away. His amber eyes were bloodshot and puffy, square jaw set, and the scars on his face were exaggerated by the lighting. His curly black beard gleamed dimly in the hallway chandeliers.
Raising a fist, he set his knuckles against my chest, directly above my heart.
"I can't say no after seeing that," he said hoarsely, and a fresh wash of tears ran down his cheeks, unchecked and unashamed. "I almost took away my best friend's smile... and I will never... let that happen again. From this night forward, to me... you are not a vampire."
I blinked, doing a double take, and spluttered, "b-but, that's what I--"
"No," he said, knuckles pressing hard against my throbbing heart. "Vampires torture creatures that are weaker than them. They take sexual pleasure and self-gratification from others with absolutely no care for the will of the ones they choose to defile, and they feed off of people and werewolves and many other creatures in chains, as if they're all lesser than livestock."
I felt my heart sink, but he tensed his jaw and raised his head higher.
He sniffed again, resolute.
Those eyes were steel incarnate.
"You are not a vampire," he said hoarsely, shaking his head without breaking eye contact. "It may be what you are, physically, but you will never again be one to me. I associate that word and that race with monsters of the worst sort, monsters who torture and... and violate."
"T-then, what?" I whispered, voice barely audible.
"I don't know," he rasped, closing his eyes with an unsteady breath, "but as of tonight, you are not a vampire to me. I will think of you as... as an angel, perhaps."
"An angel?!" I scoffed, letting out a laugh until he opened his eyes; there was no mockery in his stare of his, and I stopped instantly, realizing that he was serious. A chill ran down my spine for two reasons, the first being that it might have meant that angels were creatures that existed somewhere on Earth which meant seeing or even meeting them was possible, and the second being that he was comparing me to one.
Coming from him?
That went far beyond a compliment.
"Why an angel?" I murmured, puzzling it through. "Of all things, why that?"
"It suits you," he gruffly informed me. "You... are patient. Tolerant. Forgiving. Even when you are hurting, even when your aggressors are... torturing you... even when normal people wouldn't even dare to attempt understanding the ones hurting them, you did that and more. You are the most honest, open, and annoyingly pure creature I've ever met in my whole damn life."
I fought back a smile and scratched the tip of my nose with a simple, mumbled, "thanks."
"Whatever you are to me," he muttered, moving his hand from my chest to the back of my head; then, with a rush, he dragged me forward and slammed his skull against mine so hard I saw stars. I was almost knocked unconscious and I would have fallen backwards had he not caught me in time. I swayed, dizzied and disoriented as his eyes swam into view, "it is not evil or bad."
I would have responded, but the whole unexpected headbutt thing had me feeling super sick and super ow, ow, ow.
Ow.
Why... the fuck?
Ow.
My vision swum as I saw his eyes... eyes.
Eyes.
Blue eyes.
Bright, dead blue eyes.
I fell into the dark, fell into a twisted place, arms floating up into chains, hands crawling over me in the dark, heaving breath on my neck, the pain in my body, pain I hated, never should have been feeling, not like this, not ever... wait... wait...
Wait.
What was this?
Eyes?
Why was I seeing blue eyes? They were orange, concerned, but the eyes were blue, too...
What's happening to me? I sleepily wondered, head lolling as I was shaken. What is this?
His face shifted, warping into something I vaguely recognized, but it faded away before I could catch it. I sank into the arms holding me upright, going completely limp, eyes slipping closed.
I lost consciousness within seconds.
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