Unicorn Hair

After three days I can say that I feel totally normal. Just like I felt before, but Arnold wants to make it sure that I’m not sick anymore, that I don’t keep any germs in my body; on my lips and…maybe somewhere else. Yeah, like that would work that way! ‘We wouldn’t want our clients to get sick, wouldn’t we?’ That’s what he said. That’s right. We don’t care about you Alex. Just about them. You could be dying, but you’ll need to do the thing as long as it is safe for them.

That’s it! I’m done with this place! I’m done with those people, inside and outside this House. No one here cares about my feelings. Of course, Arnold had said many times that I can leave, but he wouldn’t actually let me. We both know that. I don’t think he might force me to do what I refuse, but I don’t think he would let me leave that easily too.

While throwing some clothes and stolen food from kitchen in my bag, I consider of getting some note to Jack somehow. I could use Mark again; he would help me, right? Maybe that would be too dangerous and I shouldn’t do that, but I can’t stop worrying myself about what he would think if I just disappeared.

Also, how would I leave this place. Obviously, I should leave at night, the only time when Arnold is not standing at his small table like some kind of gargoyle. I’ll get my horse and just leave this damn place, but still I keep coming back to Jack in my mind. He said he would leave with me if that’s what I wanted. Now I feel like that, would he do that. If yes, then how do I get him to that? He left yesterday, said he’ll be back as soon as he does all his stuffs at factory, but that what yesterday and he didn’t come back not last night, not today.

With loud sight I drop my bag on the bed and sit down next to it. It might me around eight or nine, so I still have plenty of time to spend in here. Arnold usually leaves around midnight or so. I even might get a nap, before getting out safely. Who knows when I’ll be able to sleep in real bed next time.

But I don’t move, I just sit there, on the bed where I have spent my last eight years. I stare at my room remembering all the things that had happened here. I remember how happy I was when Arnold showed me this room for the first time. I was happy to see bed and the roof over my head. Later, the same night, I was happy to finally feel warm, to finally be in a safe place. Then there came my first clients. Of course, I almost passed out how scared I was, but I never showed that to them, otherwise I would be just as the rest of the guys in the House. Well, most of them. I always acted confident, like I knew what I was doing, but most of the time I had no idea of what to do next. Later, of course, I learned what they liked and kept going with that. Most of the time in this room was more or less okay, but there have been pain too. Not just from fatty, there had been others. When they just wasn’t satisfied with my job, when they were too drunk to control themselves or they had their own problems at home or work and I was the only one on whom they could’ve release their anger. It hurt. Not just physically, I felt used. But then there came Jack and this room got some happier colors in it.

I knew that it might be coming close to midnight. The rooms around me get quiet; downstairs were still some yelling, singing and laughing. Bar was still open, but Arnold doesn’t care about that too much. That’s why there are more bartenders than it would be necessary.

I still hadn’t moved from my previous position on my bed. Still staring blankly at my plane room and starting to get sore pain running down my spine. I hear some voices in the corridor behind my doors, one of them I recognize as Arnold’s, other I think belongs to that annoying new kid. I guess, Arnold has left his table for tonight and I should soon get out. Just a little bit more, I say myself. I can’t leave so soon. Arnold may come back out of his room and I wouldn’t want him to catch me sneaking out.

More time passes and I still can’t make myself to move. I feel tears starting to form in my eyes. Part of me yells at me to just get out of here, but other part says it’s going to be okay if I stayed here. I guess the second part is winning because I still keep sitting, tears starting to run my cheeks. I feel so pathetic. I can’t do even that.

Ten more minutes and I finally get up from my bed and walk towards doors, leaving my bag on the bed. I walk out of the room, across the corridor and knock on some doors, waiting for answer. After a little while I hear doors being unlocked. Yeah, that’s the habit the most us got after living here for more than few years.

“Heya, Alex,” Owen looks at me with smile on his face, but it soon disappears as he sees that I’m still kind of crying, “hey, what’s wrong?” his voice quieter and more gentle.

I don’t answer anything, mostly because I can’t make any other noise better than sobbing. Right know I don’t care that he’s number one in this House on the line to fuck me. I know he will let me stay with him a while, mostly because he’ll hope for something more, but that’s okay with me right now. I just need someone considering Jack hadn’t come back as he said. I step closer to Owen and wrap my hands around him and just as I thought, he lets me. I hear quiet klick as he closes the doors and then I feel his arms around me, pulling me closer to him, his fingers running through my hair and quiet ‘shh, it’s going to be okay’ being whispered in my ear.

In the back of my mind I know that he’s enjoying this moment more than he should, as he slowly starts to pull me closer to his bed. His room is smaller than mine, with smaller window, which makes the room look darker, doors on left side of his bed, I suppose it’s to the bathroom, but that’s the last thing I could worry about now.

He sits down on his bed, keeping his hands on my waist and looking up to me,

“What’s wrong?”

I say nothing, just shake my head in answer.

“Come here,” he pulls me down on his lap, using his thumbs to get some tears off of my face, “you know, you’re beautiful even when crying,” he whispers, his lips not far away from mine.

“And you’re an asshole,” I try to chuckle.

“Want to check it out?” he smirks, leaning closer.

I shook my head and look him in the eyes, so close to mine. Too close, I don’t feel comfortable around him. Him being so close to me. It’s just not what I want.

“You know, I can make you feel better,” his hot breath ghosting over my lips.

I try to get up, but his hands on my back are holding me down and before I can turn my head away, he presses his lips to mine.

Notes

woo, it's chapter 20!!! and 3'000+ views and I'm out of tea so no cups of tea for you ;D
buutt, it's friday and I hope you're having spring break too 'cause I have next week free!! if I won't be lazy, might have some updates, but for now - enjoy this weekend ^.^