Prologue (Part Two)Mature

“Of course,” he pulls me close. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

He takes to through the foyer, which leads to a hallway. We take a right and go up another hall to the last room on the right. “This is the playroom,” he explained opening the door. Inside was a vast collection of toys in which I’ve never truly seen before in person. There were shelves of toys and chests as well. In the midst of this all, a young boy was piecing together a puzzle. He was tall and had the most beautiful figure I’ve ever seen. His eyes, they were like his father’s, large and grey. His hair was like the sunlight, coming out in natural curls, framing his face like a Greek God. Everything about him seemed perfect, even his skin. It was smooth and without a blemish; pale like the moon. Standing there in my rags, I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks, and my heart tremble as if something large were pressing down on it.

“Lucas, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” the young boy looks up, his eyes focusing instantly on me. “This is Amon,” Lucas rises from his sitting position and crosses the room to us. All the while my heart is beating erratically, and my face is beat red. Can he see how ridiculous I look? I feel it, and even still I can’t get over the passionate feeling of wanting as he draws nearer. I just stare at him foolishly as he reaches out his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my name is Lucas,” even his voice had something to it. It was so smooth and I could imagine myself bathing in it.

“H-hello,” I say, my voice shaking. “My name is Amon,” then we just stood there, staring at each other quietly. My hand was shaking in his, but he gripped in so assuring as if he knew the feelings in my heart and was confirming them.

“Boys,” father broke in after a while. “No need to be so formal with each other. You’re brothers,” he laughed. Then Lucas embraced me. I could feel blood pumping then. Everything in me led me to believe that he was my first love.

 

Father left us after the quite odd introductory. I can’t really say that I breathed for the first time because I was still holding my breath. “I’ve been waiting forever to meet you,” Lucas exhales. “Father has told me so much about you and knowing I had a brother really meant a lot to me. You see I thought was all alone I really wanted a companion.” He’s holding my hands again. “Listen, I’ really sorry about your mother. I’m sure she’s sorely missed.” I never really had that much of a relationship with my mother. She was always out with clients. Sometimes she brought them home and then I was sent out while she entertained them. I would wander the streets.

Often I would get back late, but mother would be asleep by then. I knew that there would be no waking her. Her lover of the night would often come for me. I could hear the stairs giving way under his foot, the door swinging open and closing behind him. I could hear him cross the tiny room and feel him kneel beside my bed. His fingers would often stroke my hair, pushing it out of my face. I would try so hard to appear dreaming, but as he turned me over, fingering sliding across my bare flesh, it’s hard not to elicit some sort of cry—moan—plea. “There, there, little one,” he’d attempt to comfort me. In those moments, I imagine my body drifting away to a place void of touch, pain and fear. There I could peel off my skin, muscles and bone and be pure spirit, pure light.

Mother put me in the attic as to not be noticed given the chance visitors come. She’d lock me up there and I would find solace deep within my mind and the books that father would lend me. Most of them had to do with medicine and anatomy. My father was a doctor; therefore he surrounded himself with things that would nourish his mind. I could imagine his voice reading to me. I could picture myself on his lap, my face pressed against his chest and listening to his deep baritone voice reciting the words of Joseph Charrieire. Along with literature and deep thought, I’d often amuse myself with the various dolls my mother would collect. Many of them were gifts to her from her clients.

The perfect features that those porcelain girl’s had, to me that was all I had. No of them were mine though. Not mother, of father or anyone. The dolls were mother’s possession. I had no claim to them. However I oft found myself cleaning them, and talking to them as if they were my very own friends. If people could only be dolls—quiet, non-judgemental and docile, then I could find solace in company. They could lay their flesh out to me and allow me to take them. With every high-pitched moan I’ll scar them with my lust and brand them mine forever. Alas my dream has not fallen from heaven to earth yet. Nor has it become reality. I must obtain it, at all cost.

“We weren’t close,” I tell him, breaking out of my reverie. He smiles at me sadly. “It’s all right,” I assure him. “I’ve put the past behind me.” We sit there in silence for a while until I think of something to say. “May I have a look at what you’re doing?” Lucas starts as if deep in his own thoughts.

“Yes, you may,” The puzzle he’s working on is a picture of Queen Victoria. There are at least five hundred pieces to the puzzle. He’s managed to put three hundred of them together.

“How often do you work on this?” I say amazed. I was never quite talented at puzzles. It was something I wanted to hone but never got the chance to because mother never bought anything for me besides clothes. I would have to find food myself. Whilst on the streets, I was often taken in by different men. I was usually with them for a week or so before moving on. I had to earn my keep there, and the results were amazing. The food was better than anything I’ve had when on the streets or at mother’s. I always liked staying with the men. They took care of me.

“Oh this, I just started it today.” He says as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Would you like to give it a try?” I nod, feeling a fool. If there’s nothing else I abhor, I will always detest looking a like a fool in front of people I like. I think I’m in love with him. My eyes linger on his for a while. My cheeks begin to tingle and I look away, embarrassed. Lucas had put the pieces into piles according to colour. Lamely I take two from one pile that look like they might go together and try fitting them with the puzzle. They fit perfectly, and I cheer silently in my mind.

“All right, I’ll have a go,”

Lucas was never to patronize anyone. If he wanted to genuinely compliment someone, he would. He never gave false flattery either. So when he did say nice things about me, I knew he meant it. We continue piecing together for a while more. Lucas and I ask each other surface questions like what each other’s favourite things were, how old we were and what we liked to do for fun. Lucas is twelve years old. He loves to read, play the piano and violin, practice Latin, French, Italian and Polish as well as study law.

“My dream is to become a part of the Scotland Yard.” He tells me, a sense of pride in his voice. His eyes greys shine in a way that I find myself falling into them. “What is your dream?” he asks me.

“I want to be a renowned surgeon. I want to help those in need, especially the poor who don’t have much.” In my heart that’s always been a dream of mine. As I said earlier, I’ve often been kicked out onto the streets. I’ve lived on the streets for days at time in the past. So I know what it’s like to have nothing. I know the pain that goes into sleeping in gutters and not knowing where the next meal would come from. I’ve watched people suffer and die on the streets as well. It never got any better.

That night we have dinner. I sit across from Lucas who is making idle chart with me about our day together. His mother is up in her room. She requested to have her meal up there from now on. “I cannot bear to see that woman’s spawn at my dinner table. If you don’t remove him then I’ll shave remove myself,” I heard her arguing with father later on in that day.

My room is going to be down the hall from Lucas’. It’s the very last room in the hall. One of the maids leads me down there. I bid Lucas goodnight at his room. He embraces me tightly for a moment. He breathes a kiss on my forehead. My cheeks flush red. “Good night, little brother,” he smiles and goes into his room. I walk away feeling my heart pulsate in my chest. When I am alone in my room I begin to change into my night clothes. Just as I lay down to sleep, there is a knock at my door. Father comes in to wish me good night.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your first day here,” he inquires, a hesitant look on his face. I say that I have. His features loosen and he becomes more relaxed. Taking a seat at the edge of my bed he looks at me as if to say that asking me wasn’t something easy. He apologizes to me for his wife’s behaviour. She’s sleeping now and can’t hear us. Their bedroom is the first room in the hall. Even so, father has the door closed the door.

I move to where he’s sitting, grasping his hands in mine. “I’m really happy to live with you now, father,” breathing in his scent I fall into his arms. “Father,”

“Yes,” I hear him gulp nervously. What is he is anxious about? “What is it, Amon?” his eyes exam me over.

“I love you,” His eyes widen a little then relax. He slides a hand on my neck and kisses me. It’s something alien to me and I’m not sure how to respond to me. All I know is that my heart is pulsating fast at it. Is this how fathers kiss their sons? His tongue feels soft and warm in my mouth. His hands fall alongside my waist. Unsure of what to do, I wrap my arms around his neck. My hands are trembling. He lays me down across my bed, grasping my hands in his.

“I love you too, my little Amon,” the look in his eyes, was that how a father would look at his son? He sighs. His body is heavy on my own. Even so, I let him do as he pleases. Something tells me he needs this. Something tells me I need him. He begins to cry, his hot tears soak my night shirt. “Stay with me,” he pleads. “Stay with me,”

This is the first time I see him weep. In those beautiful grey eyes I can feel a deep agony. I have to protect him—protect his heart. If not, it may very well shatter like glass, irreparable. “Father,” I take his face in my hands. “Dear father, I’ll stay by your side. Do with me as you please.” I close my eyes and kiss him. The image of Lucas surfaces in my mind. I can still feel his ghostly kiss on my head. Father pulls away from me. I roll over on my side and shut my eyes. The bed creaks, and I look up to see father disrobing before me.

“Father,” what is he doing? He doesn’t answer. He drops his clothes on the floor and pulls me up. His fingers grip my night shirt, pulling it over my head. “Father, I-” he kisses me again. He presses his naked body against mine. I can feel his heat of his flesh. His eyes are burning a hole in me. “You’re mine now,” Father pulls me close in his arms. I could feel his heart beating. Our lips meet again, embracing deeply. His fingers travel along my waist and under my thigh. He props it up in his hand.

“What do you mean father,” I ask, when he breaks our kiss.

“You belong to me,” he whispers to me. “I’m to do with you as I please,” as he pleases? Is this what fathers do to their sons? I want to make father happy. I don’t want to lose him. We weren’t able to see each other that much in the past. If I’m to stay with him, I’m willing to do anything. “You’re crying,” he’s right. I am crying, but why? “I haven’t done anything to you yet,” he laughs, licking my tears away. “My dear sweet boy,” he moves away from then, laying his face on my stomach. What is he doing?

He brushes his lips against my skin, trailing further down to my groin. “Father, no more,” He takes me into his mouth, his tongue teasing me ruthlessly. It feels like I have to urinate. As much as I’m trying to hate it, my body is singing in ecstasy. Then my mind wanders to the possibilities of me doing this with Lucas. Is this something he would like?

His eyes flash up at me, making my heart hesitate. “Not until I eat you whole. He grins, abruptly grabbing my thighs and pushing them upwards. Father, he kisses my arse, dipping his tongue in my hole. This is so degrading. What’s worse is that I’m making the most humiliating sounds. “Let it out, darling,” he sighs. “I’d like to hear your voice,”

I must please father. I let my voice out. Even as he sinks in his fingers deep into me, I want to bite my tongue and supress my pleasure, but I let every feeling out like he wants me. I want to please him, so that he’ll love me. Even so, all of this feels wrong. I want to do this with Lucas, but why?

Then a thought came to me. Can Lucas hear us? Can his wife hear us? Can the servants hear us? Why doesn’t he want me to lower my voice? Is what he was talking about doing with all those boys? Am I just another boy, just another body for him to ravage and then abandon? Wait, could he have done this to Lucas too? No, no, no! I don’t want any of this to happen? “I’m not just another boy father! I’m a human being with feelings, emotions and dreams! I want to be special to you father. Please love me and only me.” I cry. Oh no, they must hear us now.

I expect father to be astonished, angry, or at least confused. However he has none of these reactions. A slow and quickly growing laughter rolls out of his throat. “Feel this,” he sits me down on my bed and pulls me up. He guides my hand to his phallus. “This…means I love you,” he smiles. “There’s love in here for you,” he clasps my hand tighter around it. With his free hand he pulls me close to him and kisses me full on the lips. “Let me shoot it into you,”

I’m tossed back onto the bed and told to turn over on my stomach. “Point your arse towards me,”

“This feels humiliating,”

“Doesn’t all love come with some form of humiliation.” He grins. I do as he asks. After all he says that he has love for me. I want to feel it, this love.

I make the mistake of looking back. “Fath-” he pushes his phallus deep in my arse. It’s painful. It feels like I’m being stretched open.

“I’m going to start to move, all right,” what does he mean—ah! It’s deep in me, cutting with all the depth of a sword. Father is right. It’s better to let me voice out. Holding it in is oppressing. Is this pleasure I’m feeling? Why do I feel guilty then? Is it because I see Lucas’ face in my mind as father is taking me? Or is it because I’m letting father invade me like this when I feel nothing for the act? All of this moaning and such, is it just superficial pleasure. I can’t feel it in the core of my soul. I’m still parched. If this is an act for lovers then I have tainted the very name of love itself. Father, forgive me for not loving you the way you love me. Please accept me still.

Something hot and thick shoots out of me. It wasn’t urine. What was it? I want to ask father, but I don’t get the chance to. It’s not long afterwards that I’m filled to the brim with his love. He is still lodged inside of me though. Will we be joined like this always? When I ask him this he says no, a grin on his father.

He looks at me again with those sweet, loving eyes and I am able to resist him. He turns me over on my back, and I reach out to him, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Father, do you love me?” all my life I’ve wanted to know my father’s love. No just any man’s love will do. It had to be my father, and only him. No one else mattered to me. Now is the moment to know for sure. Does father love me?

“I adore you, my little darling. I want to hold you like this forever.” He pauses to think. “Do you love me, Amon?”

“I do father, I love you, I love you,” I pepper him with kisses. “Please keep me with you always. I don’t want to lose you,” he pulls out of me. Some of his love, I can feel it dripping out. Desperately I shut my legs to keep it in me.

“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “Even after death, I’ll remain with you.”

 

Eight months have passed since I moved in with father. Father has decided to begin taking me with him the hospital he works at. I began going with him a month ago. He works at hospital which is also a university. He spends a lot of time there not only operating on patients but giving lessons to aspiring doctors. During lectures I would sit in the back room in the rear of the room and listen. I always carry a notebook with me to take notes. I’m determined to attain his level of knowledge, skill, and influence in the medical field. If anything, my father is my idol, my teacher and my God.

Then there were isolated incidents where he would sneak me into a procedure or two. He mainly amputated limbs from victims of severe fires and such. At least this was the main feat when I was present. At least that was what caught my eye. Not yet a pupil I’m learning the ways of medicine and gaining the knowledge to surpass father. Soon I’ll snatch his title away and find sanity again. If nothing I’m a dreamer, a desperate vagabond searching for something to hold onto.

Of course he went as far as letting me meet some patients he had treated. He made it a rule to stay with the patient to make sure they were coping well with the surgery well after it had taken place. There was nothing to calm the patient during the procedure. So many were terrified and no doubt in profound pain. Some if not many patients die after the procedure. Their body slowly rots away and when it covers them, they are gone to the world. Father wanted to make sure he could prevent that. So as a lesson to me he ordered me to come with, get close to the patients and tend to their needs. “We are at their service. Their needs are our needs as well.” He would say. I loved him for that.

Father taught me everything I needed in the surgical field. As I went with him though, I always felt a pang in my heart leaving Lucas behind. It wasn’t often in the beginning that he would take me. Then as time went onward he would bring me with him more and more. After that night, father hasn’t come near me. He’s been very careful not to touch me either. Why, has he lost interest in me? Am I not good enough for him? Has he found someone else? This can’t be he said that he loved me and that we would always be together?

 

It’s late now; Lucas and I are in the library reading out of Lord Byron’s Don Juan. Lucas has such a beautiful reading voice. We each take turns reading aloud. The clock strikes nine and Father comes in. “It’s time for bed,” he smiles at me. As Lucas goes to put the book away, father approaches me. “I’ll be visiting you tonight,” he kisses me then. It feels so passionate and deep. Part of me is panicking though. Lucas might be coming back soon. What if he sees us? If Lucas heard us that night then he hasn’t let it show. I can’t let him know what I’ve done with father. He doesn’t know how I feel though. Will he care?

Oh no, I can hear him approaching us. His footsteps are growing louder. No, no I can’t be seen like this. Father isn’t showing any sign of letting go. “Amon,” it’s Lucas, he’s calling me. Father pulls away and leaves me there slack jawed and unsure of what to do or say or feel. Lucas arrives then taking my hand and guiding me upstairs with him.

“Good night Lucas,” I say happily. My heart throbs with joy.

“Good night Amon,” he drops a kiss on my lips. Lucas pulls me close to him. “I love you Amon.” I want so much for him touch like a lover would. Already the images of him in my head are overtaking me. My skin grows hot and I know I can no longer hold back,

“Lucas—,” a firm hand lands on my back; it is father. I look up at him. His eyes show no emotion. Is he angry? Does he know?

“Time to sleep,” he smiles at us both. Lucas looks at father with a look equally lacklustre. What is going on between them? Is there something that I have no comprehended here? They’re looking at each other with a quiet intensity it seems. It’s not as lacklustre or emotionless as it is disturbing. Are they sending messages to each other through their minds? That very idea is absurd, however I cannot help but feel vexed and abandoned at the same time.

“F…” I begin to call for father, but before I can get a syllable out father’s eyes shift toward mine. He pulls me close to him. It’s almost as if he’s trying to pull me from Lucas. Has he heard the murmurs of my heart, the secret whisperings of my dreams to know that I love Lucas? It’s only been eight months but it feels like eight years. Lucas and I have done so much together. He taught me about hunting, fishing and playing the piano. We have become so much more intimate than before.

“Good night, Amon,” Lucas kisses me on the cheek and goes off to his room to sleep. It is just father and I after that.

“You weren’t in your room when I came.” Father sounds a bit miffed. “I was hoping you would be there.” His voice is tense. I cannot help but respond in the same way.

“Well, I wanted to wish Lucas a good night. Is that wrong for me to do?” No, I sound sarcastic. This cannot be good. Father smiles at me again.

“No, as long as you don’t leave me waiting too long,” Father then lifts me up and carries me to my room. Father makes sure the door is closed and locked. As he sets me down, our lips melt against each other like two flames meeting as one. I lace my fingers around his neck, and open my mouth for him. He opens up my shirt, his fingers twisting my tender nipples. I can’t help but moan into his mouth.

“Amon, how would you like me to please you tonight?” he whispers against my lips. Instantly the memory of him sucking my cock surfaces in my mind and all the blood in me rises to my cheeks.

“Use your mouth please,” was that me saying that just now?

“So lascivious,” he smiles as he undresses my lower half. “I will make this something special,” I hope I don’t make too much noise tonight.

 

Another four months pass by. Father has been visiting my room every night since then. Every morning I wake up feeling a little bit more exhausted. I’m receiving father’s love so why aren’t I feeling more energized? I’m used to father being inside of me now. He tells me that I’ve become quite loose. I am not quite sure what this means. Father’s wife has become somewhat unstable. Her moods have gotten worse to the point where she would be quiet one moment and then start screaming the next.

I first noticed that her state of mind was deteriorating when I overheard her trying to bribe the cook into putting rat poison in my tea. It reminded back of when I read Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. I couldn’t even fathom where she got the poison from; certainly not from father. The next circumstance happened not so long ago. I was taking a bath after traveling with father to the hospital. The servants left me alone since I didn’t like being attended to. Most of the things I did were done by me. However our cook despised anyone entering into her kitchen. I wasn’t able to make any of my own meals.

The hot water that was boiled from downstairs is slowly losing its heat. I had already washed my body down, but I’m exhausted after a long day of following father around and doing the jobs no one wanted. Most people would be vexed, but I’m quite content at the amount of labour I put into. As father and I are growing closer, I want to do more to please him. I did my best to finish each task today in a sufficient and quick manner. I would say that he was impressed. Part of me is frightened that his pride in my work is just a figment of my desperate imagination. The one I really want to impress doesn’t end know how I feel. I will never tell him, he mustn’t know about my disgusting attraction to him.

That night while soaking in the bath, I feel two hands pushing me down in the tub. I feel the water going up my upper orifices. I can’t drown. Death can’t come for me now. Desperately I grab at the ledges of the bathtub. My hands are wet and are slipping from the porcelain tub. I lift my head above the water and scream something unintelligible and then I’m under again, fighting for me life. Who is drowning me? I didn’t get a good look at their face. Pushing out the water that was lodged in my nose, I hold my breath and hope that whoever it is stops. There is a loud bang and the hands loosen up. Then they disappear and then the sound of something heavy falling startles me. I sit up almost instantly to gulp in air like a starved orphan. I look over at the floor to see the unconscious body of father’s wife. There hunched over by her body is Lucas holding a book.

Lucas, his face is red from excitement, his upper lip trembling, his hands in frim fists; I could fall for him over again. “Are you all right?” he leaves the book on the floor and lifts me out of the bathtub. I can only nod in response to his question. After all there are no words to describe what had happened. He dries me off quietly and I don’t bother trying to tell him I can do it myself. Neither of us says anything for a long time. Lucas is too frightened to alert a maid of mother being in the bathroom. He takes me into his room and shuts the door behind him.

“Sit down,” he says quietly, gesturing to his bed. My cheeks burn as I walk over and sit on the ledge of his bed; he watches me closely as I do it. “Stay here for tonight.” Lucas approaches me quickly. I’m unable to keep my heart from beating out of control. He sits down beside me. “Amon, I…I’m really worried about your safety.” The tone of his voice reminds me that of a parent telling their child that they want them to be careful and also indirectly tell them that they are insecure about their ability as a parent in protecting them. “Mother is getting worse as you can see. I don’t want you to feel like you can no longer live here because of her.”

“She’s right to hate me. After all what could be more agonizing than to look at your husband’s mistress’ offspring every day and night? I’m an illegitimate child, with no name, no importance other than to destroy her inwardly bit by bit. I am the worm that rots her flesh and Vulture that plucks the last bit of meat from her bones.” I look up at him. “Can’t you see that I am only agony?”

“You’re only light,” he smiles, his fingers weaving around strands of my hair. “You’re not at fault for what father did. He was unfaithful. I’m happy though for that because you’re here. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He moves really close to me, his eyes fluttering closed. What is he doing? His lips brush against mine like a mist. “Brother,” he sighs laying his head on my shoulder. He wraps his arms around me and lays that way for a while.

“I should get dressed,” I say feeling nervous.

“No,” he says out rightly. “I’ll join you,” pulling away from me, he begins peeling off each articles of clothing until he’s bare-skinned in front of me. “I want to feel closer to you,” he says, his cheeks tinging with a soft shade of pink. Just as I begin to speak, he lifts me up and sets me under the comforters. He joins me shortly, pressing his bare body against my own. At first I feel hesitant and frightened like the first time father took me. Everything becomes so startlingly real and I can’t fight it off. Then my body relaxes. I think I might get aroused and ruin everything, but I am quite calm.

“Good night,” he kisses my cheek lovingly.

“Good night,” I reply, kissing him back. He holds me close to him, almost as if he were afraid of letting me go. I worry that I might not get any sleep, but I do. However the image of his mother lurks in my mind and the feeling of drowning, I know, will never leave me.

 

In the end someone finds her. She only suffered from a concussion to the head. She rests for a few days and then she decides to ignore more for the next few months. It’s only until a month later that she tries again to kill me. She sits me down and talks to me. By this time I and everyone else in the household can tell the she’s lost her mind. She really has no regard for her looks anymore. Many of times she walks around with her hair that’s go astray.

“Listen here, you puny pathetic excuse for a human being, I’ve something to say!” she screams at me from across the table. “Not once have I been told about your arrival, not once was I consulted about you spending so much time with MY HUSBAND! I know what you two are doing at night. I can hear you. The whole damn house can hear you! You filthy pig, you male harlot, you and your mother destroyed my husband!”

Suddenly she climbs over the table swing a butcher knife at me that was hidden in her skirts. I can feel the blade slicing across my face. “It’s time you die you filthy demon! Get out of my house! Get out of my life!” The servants come, but it’s too late. She had already struck me.

Eight days later the servants found her hanging from a noose in the garden. Thus another death arose due to my existence. Father soon began to drink unhealthy amounts of spirits in our presence. He would often use us as comforters to his loss. In the end I could only assume that he loved his wife more than he wanted to admit. Lucas was becoming one of father’s toys and he hated it. He hated so much that three months later he packed up and was ready to leave. He was determined and I was happy for him. However he said that he never wanted to come back here again.

The night before he left, he was lying in bed with be. “Come with me,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about for a while and I want you to come.”

“I’ll come.” I say. I’m caught up in the moment. I’ll be running away with Lucas, the one that I love. Then Lucas does something surprising. He kisses me, but not like before. His gossamer kisses were always so heart-warming but now it feels very demanding.

“Amon,” he pushes me down on his bed. “I love you,” my heart begins to beat wildly. He kisses me again, running his fingers down my naked body. It seemed like every time I slept in Lucas’ bed, he wanted me naked. He fingers tease my skin. I can feel my body slowing responding to his touch. “You’re so beautiful,” all I can do is breathe heavily, and hope he doesn’t notice.

“I love you too, Lucas.” I kiss him back with all my might. “Please take me from here.” He embraces me, pressing my face against his chest.

“I promise I will.”

 

It’s only after I part with him that night that I go to meet father in his room. He’s sitting in the bay window look at the night sky. He has one leg propped up and the other resting. Father hasn’t been this calm since his wife’s death. My arrival startles him out of whatever world he was lost in a while ago. “Come in, Amon,” his voice is soft…melancholy. Why? I close the door behind us and cross the room to join him in the bay window. He has blanket over him to keep the night chill from reaching his body.

“Father,” I begin. He turns to me, tears in his eyes. Has he ever really cried in front of me before? His eyes bore into me with an urgent sadness. “Whatever is the matter?” he reaches across to me and pulls me into his arms.

“I can’t sleep, Amon; my mind won’t let me.” He breathes out, his gaze far away. “Will you stay with me?” he looks up at me as if he were about to cry. I want to cry watching him fight his personal battle on his own. Is there a way to reach him? Have I been too wrapped up in my happiness with Lucas to notice him? I’ve neglected him when he needed me most. I’m such a fool.

“Of course I will. You mean everything to me.” Tears begin to flow from my eyes like never before. I’m going to have to stay here with him. I’m sorry Lucas. Please forgive me. “Tonight, can I take you?” I ask stroking the side of his face. He looks uncertain at first, but then his eyes centre on me. I can feel his certainty.

“Yes,” even so he still carries me to his bed. He’s compliant as I peel off his clothes. He watches me coyly as I undress. If not he is good at feigning it. He even lifts his arms up and crosses them over his head as if he were chained up. The very idea is arousing.  Lifting his face to mine, I kiss him with all the passion in my heart. Our tongues swirl around each other like two slugs caught in a whirlpool. He’s moaning. He’s already feeling it.

Even as I take him there’s an empty part of me screaming out. Why am I doing this? No, I can’t possibly run away with Lucas. Going day by day feeling this way for him, desiring him, it wouldn’t get me anywhere. How would he feel if I told him? He would be disgusted, horrified. After all the time we spent together my confession would ruin all of that.

Father needs me. He’s sunken down and has really no one left. If I leave him now then I’ll be shirking all the love he’s given me up till now. He’s the one that took me in after mother died. He’s the one that fought with his wife to keep me here and strived to help me feel like I belonged. No, I’ll stay here. I’ll stay here until he sleeps and his dawn never comes. Till the sun doesn’t rise anymore for him, I’ll stay.

 

The next day I walk downstairs to see Lucas standing there with his suitcases. There’s a determined look on his face. He looks up at me, half naked and dripping with cold sweat and his eyes widen. “What’s going on? I got us tickets and packed our bags. Why aren’t you dressed the train is leaving in an hour?” he’s panicking. Slowing I tread across the foyer to him, tears rolling down my face. I have to say it.

“Lucas, I’ve changed my mind. I no longer wish to go with you.” His eyes bulge in disbelief. “Father and I will be staying together. Father, you see, is my lover.”

“What…” he looks confused and in denial. Of course he would me, but if he only knew the true meaning of my feelings. “Never mind your appearance. Just take one of my shirts and I we’ll leave immediately.” He pulls me hand and tows me to the door.

“He loves me, and I love him. There really isn’t room here for you anymore Lucas.” He drops my hand, his sad eyes drilling into me. “I’m happy to have known you for the time that I did, Lucas. Now farewell, please forgive me for fooling you. I hope the ticket fare wasn’t too hefty a price.” Lucas’ eyes are brimming with tears. I see his hand rising and before I can stop him; he slaps me hard across the face. Just as quickly, he grabs me and kisses me more passionately than I had ever dreamed.

He breathes heavily, his face just an inch away from mine. “I…I’m…happy…to have loved you.” He says. “I think I might always love you. Amon, you’re everything to me.” He releases me, turning quickly he grabs the suitcases and walks out the mansion. I don’t see him again after that.

 

Eight months later father commits suicide by blasting a bullet in his skull. I am accepted into medical school and proceed to be one of the top surgeons in my field. The scar father’s wife gave me is still there. It caused me to have some problems with that eye. Even so, I still look for him, hoping I might tell him how I really feel, that is if we ever cross paths again. I have a feeling…oh yes I have feeling they will.

The End

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