“My… monster,” he purrs, and I groan.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s tearing my clothes off, and shedding his own.
Our hands are everywhere, feverishly grabbing and squeezing and caressing. He finds lube and pours it onto my inches. And when he sits down on my cock, I’m falling in a fast, blazing shimmer like a meteor shower.
My little bird rides me slow, working his hips to stroke every inch of me deep within his gorgeous body; his rare physicality, like a precious gemstone. Born in the beauty of originality.
We come together,free, and I’m crying actual tears.
With his name on my lips, and mine on his.
Stay with me, sweet Angel…
Stay with me, and never leave.
Lately, I’ve been doing something Ineverdo. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever done, over the course of my entire life.
I’m wondering about the future. Thinking about what a future for someone like me might look like. What it evencouldlook like.
I’ve always lived life day by day. Focused expressly on each moment, driven toward an ultimate goal. But I never actually thought about what life would be likeafterI achieved that goal.
I guess that’s a sign of emotional immaturity. Or it speaks to my upbringing, having no stable home life, and no adult or authority figures guiding me.
I should have been considering what would happen after I killed The Ivory…
I used to tell myself it didn’t matter. That killing him would likely get me killed, so the future was irrelevant, since I might not even have one; like a suicide mission, in a way.
But that one-track mind, obsession over the revenge and nothing more, was an excuse. Because I think the reason I never thought about my future after killing The Ivory is that, on some level, I knew I was never going to do it.
Envisioning a future for me was acknowledging that I’d been lying to myself… And without Manuel Blanco, I had no fucking clue who I was.
Angel Alvarez is like a tulpa, brought into existence by the intense anguish of that little boy on the floor of the closet, and the hatred that spawned from the following years, when he was forced to grow up alone. All because of one man…
Without him, I don’t exist.
And it’s still true, even now. Even after the way things have changed so detrimentally between us.
How can I picture a future without The Ivory when there is no me without him?
So instead, I’m imagining a future…withhim.
It’s fuckingcrazy, I know that. There are no misconceptions about how pathetic I’d probably seem to people on the outside. But the thing is that I see a side of The Ivory that no one else does.
Sure, he’s still an evil narcissist, and despite his vast understanding of the human mind, he can’t seem to figure out how to be a person. But in between the self-centered and avaricious behavior, the cruelty bordering on sociopathy, withmeand me alone, there have been glimpses of someonereal.
Raw human emotions, and dare I say, vulnerabilities, hidden within the composition of this atrocious man. It’s like panning for gold… You don’t just stumble upon a big bar of it out in nature. You have to sit there, hunched over and scouring through water and sand and dirt just to find a teeny tiny speck.
But that speck is highly valuable.Hell, if you find even a few, you’re rich.
That’s how it feels to be me, falling into this unexpected, ill-advised relationship with Manuel Blanco. But I can’t deny that I feel special… Being the only person in theworldwho’s gotten this far. Who has been prosperous in gathering up those tinyflakes of shiny gold emotions; the glittering unrefined reality of this Daedalian man.
But then, I think about Velle… The only other person who’s gotten as close as this.
I’veseen them interact when no one else was around. I’ve witnessed the connection firsthand. But unlike with me, Ivory has always been in pure possession mode with Velle. There has to be a reason…
Why the animosity? And if the situations really are the same, then what has stopped him from treating me the way he’s treated Velle?
What makes me so special?
