I lean back to look through the doorway into the main room. Gray is wearing that blasted bathrobe again. And scuttling along the wall chasing a bug.
I shake my head and dish up the scrambled eggs and toast. Then I pour two glasses of orange juice and set everything on the small table. I’m just about to call him again when he appears.
He sits down at the place I set for him, picks up his fork and starts shoveling eggs into his mouth at a frightening speed.
I sigh and sip my orange juice. At least he is using a fork. Hopefully, more memories of how to act human will come back soon. He walked the Earth for thousands of years. He must have been excellent at appearing human at one point.
Yet another thing that has been stolen from him. Fucking bastards. I wonder who caught him first? The church? Occultists? How many hands did he pass through until the billionaire bought him?
We’ve worked out that he was chained for at least a hundred years. That’s a fair few human life spans, assuming no one is going to keep a deadly sex toy whilst in their eighties. Gray must have been passed around a lot.
My chest tightens uncomfortably and I rub at it. The details of Gray’s past don’t matter. It is done. It’s over. The cunts who hurt him are likely all long dead. There is not even any vengeance to be found. More’s the pity. I’d enjoy that.
“Is everything alright with Nikolai?” he asks suddenly.
I startle and meet his dark eyes. They look very lucid and are sparkling with intelligence. The sight makes my heart skip. He really, truly is coming back to himself. I really am helping him. He is recovering. It’s wonderful.
“Yeah, it’s all fine,” I say.
“Is he your boss?” asks Gray.
“Hell no!” I splutter in indignant outrage. What a disgusting thought.
Gray tilts his head and gives me a questioning look.
I sigh. “But his boss is not someone to fuck around with.”
Gray stares at me expectantly.
I take a deep breath and surrender. “You don’t need to know about cartels, dodgy bastards and drug money. It’s a world I’m trying to get away from but it doesn’t let people go easily.”
His dark eyes fill with concern.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure him. “I can handle it.”
He stares at me intently for a long moment. Then he nods decisively and picks up his orange juice, releasing me from his hold.
I sag in relief. What the hell? That is more than I have shared with anyone, ever. It’s unsettling. It doesn’t fit the nature of our relationship. I’m the strong, gruff one. The one who is effortlessly in control. I don’t open up and share shit. I don’t do vulnerable. Gray needs to believe I’m one hundred percent infallible. I need to believe that too.
I swallow and take a gulp of my drink. Fuck this shit. I need a distraction, and Gray needs more exposure to modern life if I’m going to rehabilitate him fully.
“Let’s go out,” I say.
Gray gives me a look that is more quizzical than horrified. That’s excellent progress. Not so long ago he would have quailed at the suggestion of venturing away from the house.
“This place is a shit hole. I’m living out of a bag. You have a bunch of clothes in a cardboard box. Let’s go shopping and make this place habitable,” I explain.
He nods in agreement as a flash of interest and curiosity ignites in his beautiful dark eyes. This is great. He wants to go, and not merely so he can cling by my side. It’s a sign that I can make him sane again. Help him acclimatize to the modern world. Then, once he is on his feet and capable of passing as a human, I can walk away.
My heart skips a beat. Fine. I am big enough to admit I’m deeply conflicted about that plan. I already know I don’t want to leave him. Otherwise, why would I be taking him to sex clubs and figuring out ways for him to feed without touching anyone else?
My heart wants him. My soul already thinks he is mine. It is just my mind that is clinging onto tendrils of sense. I should walk away, but I’m not sure that I will.
But I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meantime, Gray still needs to learn how to be more independent. He deserves it and it is something I can give him.
Shopping trip here we come.
What was I thinking? This is my idea of hell. There are so many people here. Normal people. Couples, young children. Old folk. So much domestic simplicity. Simple lives. Simple people. And for some unfathomable reason, my usual disdain for mundanes is wavering and I’m actually feeling a little bit of wistful envy.
