Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Ezrah
Long after Sebastian falls asleep, I lie awake.
The thought that if he ever bleeds again, I'll be the one holding the blade crawls under my skin. I do my best to swallow a shiver and close my eyes.
The idea should horrify me. Instead, it lights a dark, stupid hunger that terrifies me more. Not because I want to hurt him – I would never let him be hurt alone – but because there is a part of me that wants to own every mark on him. His blood becomes a thought I can't shake.
His blood. My blood. Our blood.
The fantasy hollows me out and simultaneously makes my cock hard. I imagine painting his pale skin with both the insanity and the claim braided together.
No part of me craves to hurt him in any way or form.
But I crave to be beside him in the darkness, take care of him, to find another way to give him what he needs.
And if not possible, then becoming the blade on which he bleeds, tending to him afterwards, and assuring both of us that he's still here. Still my boy.
A few days ago, such a thing would have shocked me. Now it's all I can think about.
I am probably far too gone to be called human. Normal men would recoil, call the police, run. Sebastian didn't run. He stayed, and I saw the hunger in his eyes. That's what keeps the fantasy alive – the knowledge he didn't run. The rest of it I'll figure out when the time comes.
***
In the morning, I wake before Sebastian and make breakfast for us.
While we eat, he excitedly tells me all the things we can do today.
Gone is the hurting boy from yesterday. He doesn't even pay attention to the bandage on his thigh.
But I do, which is why after breakfast I clean the wound again and dress it myself.
Slowly, I think I'm learning more about my boy.
He isn't pretending to be fine. He truly is fine.
I can't comprehend how you can be consumed by darkness in one moment and in the next radiate like the sun, full of so much happiness.
But I'm not going to make it weird or worse, demand he explain himself.
One of the points of a relationship is to be yourself with the other person. There's a lot I don't know about my boy, but I'm going to rectify that.
"I like your ideas for today, but we can't do them all," I say around my cup of coffee.
"Why?"
"Because it would take us several days to do everything." He starts to pout, so I hurry to say, "That's why I decided what we'll do today and what we'll leave for another day."
He brightens immediately. Placing his hands on his chin, he looks at me expectantly. I chuckle under my breath and say, "Today will be all about sweets and cold. We're going on an ice-cream hunt day."
"Yaaay."
Sebastian jumps from his seat and perches in my lap. I wrap my hands around him and kiss his lips.
"You'll be a good boy now. Get dressed and be ready while I wash the dishes."
He nods rapidly. "Okay, Daddy."
But he doesn't leave, instead he demands more kisses. I don't mind. I'm starting to think that when it comes to Sebastian, I don't mind anything.
I hope our date today will brighten his mood. I remember that ever since he was little, he loved ice cream. One particular situation still makes me laugh.
"Why the fuck did we have to stop and buy so much ice cream, Ezrah?" Aziel asks from the passenger seat next to me.
He isn't happy, and I just don't get why.
"It's for your brother," I say calmly. Calmer than I'm feeling. "We got flowers for your mom."
"We don't need to get them something every time we go. At this rate, we'd be broke."
I grip the wheel tight.
We wouldn't be broke since we always buy something small. It's what my mom taught me. To never visit with empty hands. And Aziel damn well knows this.
"We don't need to, but you know why I do it."
"Fine. But I don't understand why we had to drive half an hour just to buy this specific ice cream."
"Because it's Sebastian's favorite. Stracciatella."
Aziel gives me a weird look, and my patience thins.
"He's almost nineteen. He's not a kid anymore. If he wants ice cream, he can go and get it himself."
"What's your problem?" I explode.
He doesn't answer, and I steal a glance. Aziel is looking out the window, but his fists are balled.
Recently, we've started to fight more and more about little things. Never something serious, but I still don't understand why he's acting this way. It's for his brother, not some stranger. Besides, we haven't visited in months.
"It doesn't matter," he says. "I'm sorry I exploded."
I know this type of apology from him. He doesn't mean it, not really. He's just saying it to put a stop to the fight because it's not going in the way he wants to, or he's done with it.
"It's okay. We're almost there anyway."
The rest of the short drive we spent in silence.
I don't have a lot of time to worry about us because we arrive at his childhood home. His mother welcomes us with a smile that brightens when I give her the flowers.
"You're such a gentleman. Thank you, dear," she says.
"I hope you like them."
Before she can respond with anything, Sebastian runs down the stairs. When he sees me, he smiles shyly and calls with an excited voice, "Daddy!"
I laugh out loud because he's still calling me that. By this point, it has become a joke between us. I see it in the way his eyes dance with mischief.
"For fucks sake," Aziel swears. "Cut it off, brat. I've had enough of your bullshit."
The room falls dead silent.
"Aziel. It's fine. He's joking," I say, trying to calm him.
"Is he? Can't he joke with something else?"
Aziel doesn't wait for my response and instead storms to the kitchen. Their mother looks awkwardly at me, shuffles on her toes, and then leaves after Aziel.
What the fuck just happened?
I look at Sebastian but he's staring at the floor, with his hands behind his back. Something about the way he stands, like a scolded kid on the verge of tears, makes me step forward.
"Sebastian?"
He looks up, and damn it, I was right. His eyes are glassy, and his lips are trembling.
"I'm sorry, Daddy." He whispers the words so silently I almost missed them.
"Can I ask you something?" He nods. "Why do you call me Daddy?"
I've had a lot of fights with Aziel about this. A friend of mine told me I need to stand on Aziel's side about this, that it's weird his brother calls me Daddy. I realize how it may look from the outside, but I know what it's like to grow up without a father.
While Aziel speaks fondly about his dad and gets excited when he receives a message, Sebastian never mentions him.
He was a kid who needed the illusion of a father figure, and I was okay with being that. But now he's eighteen, almost nineteen, and he still calls me that.
Sebastian bites his bottom lip, then blurts, "Because you were the first person to tell me to eat breakfast."
I blink, then blink again.
"What?"
He looks me in the eyes and says, "You were the first who order me to eat breakfast because it matters. That's how it started. Aziel and my mom never bothered with that." He swallows, and I open my mouth to say something, but he continues, "But don't worry. You're not my Daddy."
I'm left speechless for a moment.
I'm not sure what the right action is here.
On one side, I have my boyfriend, from another, his brother, who just chose to call me that because I told him to eat his breakfast.
My head starts to pound.
"Here," I say, handing him the box.
"What's this?"
"A gift."
He opens the box and when he sees the ice cream, he smiles so wide he jumps in place.
"Thank you, thank you so much…" he trails off, not calling me what I knew he wanted.
"I know how much you love ice cream."
"Yes, yes, I do. And I'm going to eat this whole box now."
"Careful. Maybe half the box now and the other half later."
"I'll think about it. But I make no promises."
I'm still laughing as I step into the kitchen where my boyfriend is glaring at me. I'll need to really think whose side I should stay on. But for now, at least one person in the house is happy.
Sebastian with his ice cream.