I think he’d twitch a bit in his sleep. Either from nightmares or just dreams in general. And I’d imagine they’re vivid, too.
Just like he is.
He’s the only splash of color I’ve had in this oil-stained world I live in, and I don’t think I can give that up.
It’s not false color like people see during an oil spill, when light reflects on it and they see hues of pigmentation.
No.
Madison is the whole goddamn rainbow put right in front of my very eyes.
And who wouldn’t want to devour a fucking rainbow?
“You look like shit,”Kase says when I walk into the kitchen at seven in the fuckin’ morning.
“Thanks for that,” I deadpan as I pull out a chair and drop down into it. I let my head fall into my hands to block some of the bright light from above. That’s when I feel Kase’s hand on my shoulder. I tense briefly at the contact, but then, I lean into it, letting my head rest against their side.
“Just sayin’. Not sleep well?” they ask as they run their fingers through my hair, and I groan at the warmth that tingles along my scalp and down the nape of my neck.
“No.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No,” I repeat, not opening my eyes.
“Fair enough,” they chuckle. And it’s the ease within it that I can tell right then and there that we’ll be okay. That this… thing between us won’t change anything—just like last time.
That it was a one and done. Or, well… a few times and done. Just to release some tension with someone we trust. Someone familiar.
Even though I know it, I still feel the burning need to ask, but I won’t.
I’ll live in the uncertainty until I get my answer eventually.
Until then…
I’ll suffer in the unknown.
“So, since we don’t have to work until later tonight, what are you gonna do today?” Kaser asks as they move around the table to the other side. They take a seat and sip coffee from their overly large mug. I hike a brow but don’t say anything for a minute.
“I don’t know,” I finally reply after a while.
“Just wanna chill today?” they ask, and yeah. That does sound nice, but no. I wanna see my treat. I wanna talk to him.
But he’s fuckin’ refusin’ me, and I’m about to lose my shit.
‘Cause who was I kidding? I can’t give him up.
My fingers tighten around my own coffee mug that Kaser poured for me. And for a moment, I fear it might crack, but thankfully, it doesn’t.
The ceramic is hot to the touch, and the burn is enough to center me—for the moment.
Maybe I’ll go into work and see if maintenance will let me view the video footage from when my treat came to visit me.
Oh, that would be lovely.
Watching him through a screen, unaware he’s being recorded. For me to watch over and over and over until I’m satiated.
Oh.
