“You’re right. I was just surprised that out of the millions of requests you could’ve made, you chosethat.”
“So, do we have a deal?” The blonde devil asks cockily as he drowns his wine in one final gulp.
He doesn’t care at all about Aoi’s feelings, does he? I don’t know what their deal is about, but it definitely sounds like something Aoi doesn’t want. He shouldn’t do anything he dislikes just for my sake. I’m not worth it.
However, to my surprise he glints at me then rips his gaze away from me and with the most resolute tone he says, “Deal.”
***
After paying the bill, Aoi escorts me back to his car. He tells me to wait as he finishes conversing with Jason. I gaze at them through the car window, but I can’t hear them. Their words are engulfed by Aoi’s laughter.
Jason. That fucker. I hate that man. He looks empty inside. A shell, a mask, an empty jar never to be filled. Aoi’s eyes reflected that void when watching his uncle. It’s subconscious I’m sure, but when it happened, it felt like I was plummeting in an endless abyss.
Aoi’s kind, he spills with kindness and the only way that’s possible is if he’s been torn to shreds by sorrow. Jason is a demon. No one could tell me that he didn’t crawl out of the pits of hell to tear apart my angel. I mean, Aoi, notmyangel. I don’t own him, but he’d still be happier around me than with that snake.
I hate this strange sensation in the depth of my stomach. It’s akin to a rumbling volcano threatening to erupt at the mere sight of Aoi’s hidden sorrow.
I wonder how much violence it took to make someone as gentle and caring as him.
14
Aoi
Jason leans in and uses that sulky voice to tempt me. “You should come by tonight.”
His breath tickles my ear, making me playfully shove him away. He’s always been a shameless flirt. I know how strange it must look to outsiders, but it’s normal for us. Jason and I have known each other since my birth. He is and has always been an integral part of my life.
My grandparents adopted him when my father was seventeen and Jason was twelve. He became a part of the family, a pillar of my existence. When I was born, my parents didn’t know what to call me. They struggled with too many ideas to choose from, until my uncle recommended 'Aoi'.
My parents told me stories about the way he always doted on me as a child. I recall memories of Jason starting my fourth birthday, which is when he gifted me my first book, but I wasn’t yet adept at reading. He would read the books out loud and whenever I didn’t understand a word, he’d explain it for me.
He always found time for me, only me. Jason didn’t behave the same way with my sister, Maia. He was nice to her, of course, but it couldn’t compare to the love he showered me in.
After years of reading and debating and discussing various books with him, I started wanting to write myself. At first, it was poems then random texts until eventually it became stories. Some were short, some long, some consistent, someutter nonsense. Still, I loved it. I adored the way my imagination ran wild, the way I could ink down everything I felt, my every thought and dream on a sheet of paper.
On my twelfth birthday he bought me a computer so I could write my books and every idea, professionally and digitally. I was beyond overjoyed.
My mother supported my choices, but she thought I was still too young to know what I wanted to do in life. My father disliked the idea altogether. He wanted me to have a 'fixed job' with a 'stable salary'. I understood his point of view, but he didn’t want to see mine. Becoming an author is my dream and each book I read deepens that wish, that ambition.
While my parents saw it as a child’s wish or a futile job, Jason believed in me from the start. He invested in my potential, in my love and talent for writing. Jason saw something in me that no one else had.
Without him, I wouldn’t be who I am today. He’s my rock, my fortress. He keeps me grounded. Sometimes he locks me in a cage but never cuts my wings off. He allows me to fly as long as he can keep a chain around my neck.
“I have to get the kid home.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “So?”
“So, he’s my priority right now and I can’t just leave him to play with you.”
“I love it when you say it like that. You make it sound all innocent and pure.”
“You pervert.”
Once I turned sixteen, I started experiencing different emotions. I realized I was gay after starting to crush on aclassmate in high school. It wasn’t serious in the least. A fleeting crush on a boy I barely knew but still it changed my views on the world and love.
It was terrifying to realize that I was different from the other boys. I know being gay isn’t a sin or anything, but it was still scary to be the only boy in my class–if not the whole school–to be into guys. At that time, I didn’t know of any openly queer teens which made me too scared to come out.
One night, I went out with a bunch of classmates. We had decided to hang out at one of their houses and one of them suggested we drink. We were young and reckless, so of course we got wasted. That night, I was so drunk I could barely walk, let alone speak. I washammered.
