“You’re not dreaming, Benjamin. This is real.Weare real, you and me. We are as real as they come.” He pauses as he seems to consider something, then nods. “Can I tell you a secret?” he says, a vulnerability to his voice that I’ve never heard before.
“Yes. Anything,” I whisper.
“I only like myself when I’m with you, Benjamin. You make me the kind of person I want to be. Carefree and less uptight. A little reckless even. I wasn’t always a grumpy arsehole. A cynic. I was a happy child. I used to look forward to silly things like Easter or my birthday or the first day of spring. I just…I can’t pinpoint how or exactly when it happened. It just sort of did. The only thing I cared about aside from my mother was chocolate. Because I could mould it the way I wanted it to be. I could make these perfect pieces of chocolate that people would praise. The chocolate didn’t want anything back in return. It didn’t ask anything of me. It didn’t…” he shakes his head wistfully.
“What?” I breathe because, wow, East has never been this open and honest with me before.
“It didn’t challenge me,” he says. “Not like you do.”
“I challenge you?” I ask, stunned out of my mind.
“You do,” he smiles.
“How? How do I challenge you?” He squirms, then groans slightly, releasing his grip on my shoulders and tugging at his hair instead.
“You make me remember what it’s like to havefun.” He says the word fun like one would sayturdorpuke, while he wrinkles his nose. I can’t help snorting and he throws me a glare. “Don’t play with me, Bunny,” he says, an unspoken challenge in his voice. “Fun is dangerous for grumps like me, don’t you know?” I shake my head. I don’t. “It makes us believe life can befunand that we can have it, a happy life with laughter and joy and…”
“And?” I hold my breath.
“And love,” he says, looking crestfallen.
“And you don’t want that?” I reach out and brush my hand along his scruffy chin, the familiar scratchiness making my thighs shiver.
“I do,” he says, leaning into my touch. “I do want it. I want it so badly, Benjamin. With you.”
“But?” My hand slides to the back of his neck, sweeping through his smooth gilded strands that are like liquid gold. He’s golden, my East.
“I’m afraid,” he admits. “I’m afraid that…” He catches himself, then deflates. “When my dad died, it’s like my mum ceased to exist. At least, it felt like that for a long time. There was nothing…I couldn’t do anything. It was almost as if I’d lost her, too. She didn’t say it, but it wasn’t hard for me to see it.” His chin dips and I reach for him, circling my arms around his neck.
“See what?” I ask when he stays silent, carding my fingers through his silken strands. He licks his lips.
“That she wanted to go where he was. That she was done with this world.” He winces. “Done withme.” He looks like a boy now, or at least a reflection of the boy who lost everything all at once.
“How old were you?” I swallow.
“Twelve. I was twelve.”
“Oh, East.”
“It’s okay,” he shakes himself. “She came back eventually.” He smiles half-heartedly.
“But the fear that you could lose her again stayed,” I finish for him. He nods, looking straight at me.
“When I woke up this morning, and you were gone…” A tear breaks free from his lashes and starts the lonely journey down his stubbled cheek. “It was like my heart stopped. Like truly, literally stopped. Like it no longer had any purpose.” I nod, because I know what he means. I’ve felt the same way all day; every second, minute, hour spent away from him pure torture.
“You’re my purpose, Benjamin. You aremyBunny. My heart. And it’s scary as hell, but I can’t—Idon’t—want to be without it. Withoutyou.” More tears break free from his eyes, and he looks so young and vulnerable and just altogether lovely.
“I don’t want to be without you either,” I croak. “You’re my purpose, too. I was meant to be your Bunny, just like you were meant to be my Master.”
“Does that mean you’re coming home?” He lights up, gold now morphing into diamonds before my very eyes. He’s glowing, my beautiful, beautiful master. He’s glowing with the same hope that’s taking over my heart. A raw, needy kind of hope.
“If you want me to.” I nod.
“I do. I want you to,” he rushes out.
“But it might happen again,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says solemnly. “I know, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out. Pee or no pee, you’re it for me, Benjamin.”
