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“You have every right to be upset,” he replies, unblinking as he inspects my face, eyes spotted with wisps of silver in the moonlight. “Their behavior was unconscionable… as was her arrival. If it helps, I felt what you felt. I may sound insane, but… I feel like I can feel what you do… in my chest.”
I nod, gulping down the rejection I still feel as my eyes wander briefly down to the gleaming curves of his defined pecs.
“And for the record, when I look at that woman, I feel disgust,” he says, his tone earnest. “And I feel trauma from the pressure I've been put under my whole adult life despite them knowing how that pressure makes me feel.”
I blink fast, determined to dissimilate the stupid tears of relief I feel welling up in my eyes.
“I hate that she even got the chance to look at you,” he continues. “I want to protect you from all those people.Always.”
My sharp inhale brushes the air between us and we remain unmoving, trapped in a bubble with each other as the irritation and hurt and frustration I felt earlier melts a little, leaving me hyperaware of his body, and of my own arousal… and of the promise he spoke to me earlier about his after-dinner plans.
“And I’m sorry that I shut down the way that I did. I can’t help it, Indigo. Being around that man, it… takes my humanity from me… and sometimes it takes a while for it to come back.”
“That’s the part that scares me,” I reply. “Sometimes it takes a long time, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. It can take days. And then, from time to time, something breaks inside me and… it can take weeks.”
“Do you think… getting things out will help?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m starting therapy next week. That’s why webothare.”
“Sometimes,” I continue, realizing I may be pushing all of his buttons but deciding to do it anyway. “You seem… afraid of something… As if something’s going to happen that you can’t stop.”
His intense gaze floats slowly down my body and back up again.
“I’m afraid that… it would be easier to give in, to forget, to not feel, to become what my father wants me to become. To become likehim.”
I feel myself tremble at the very thought. “Could you?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t believe so. I’ve always fought it, Indigo. Ever since I was a boy. I’m going to keep fighting it, but… some days, I lose myself. Not for long, but it happens. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with that.”
He takes a step towards me, his chest rising and falling fast, the muscles of his bare frame contracting.
“Can you accept me like this? Not always feeling human?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I respond, “there are things that have happened to me which make me feel less than human as well. Which make me hide. So, I understand. In fact, knowing you feel this way is part of why I feel safe with you.”
Darkness creeps into the troughs under his eyes. “What things have happened?”
I swallow down the answer, not wanting to taint the air between us with talk of things I never want to speak of again.
“Maybe there’ll be a day when we both tell each other our secrets,” I respond.
“Indigo, the thought of people hurting you, do you know what it does to me? Do you know that I could commit murder to avenge you?”
“I don’t need that,” I respond. “I just need… to be safe with you.”
His eyes glisten as if sheathed in dew. “You know I’m not the perfect man for that. I can save you from others, but I don’t know if I can always save you from myself.”
“Then, in those moments, I’ll save myself.”
He nods, his incandescent gaze prowling over my face, devouring my lips.
I remain unmoving as he steps towards me, slowly striding around me until he’s at my back, his breath hot on my exposed nape above my messy bun.
