My irritation is beginning to gnaw me up whole. Ryan is sitting on his bed, pouting with his hands crossed in front of his chest. Refusing to look me in his eyes at all.
He ignores me, pulling the blanket up and around him, sulking away with a slight glance at the window. We are already running late, but Ryan decided today of all days to put up a fight on it. I sigh, fingers pricking into my skin as I grip my knuckles tightly in my hands, bottom lip tuck in my mouth.
"Ryan, I know that you don't like this. I don't like it anymore than you do, you know that. It hurts me everytime at this day of the week...but..."
I trail off, words escaping from my mind. If I hate it so much, then why do I force Ryan to go through the same routine every week? Why then?
I close my eyes, trying hard to even my breath as words choke up in my throat the same way it does every time I thought of what Ryan is really subjected to here. Everytime he is sent away from his room, I have to lose myself in something, anything just so that reality doesn't catch up with me. Just so that I won't end up going insane.
"Then don't make me..." he says with a small whisper, his doe eyes coming up and meeting mine, glassy look behind it making my heart clench.
I bite my lips, this time its me looking away from him. I wish it was really that simple. I wish that life would be just like kid's building blocks, that we are given the free liberty to build anything, anyway that we want it to be. Not the way that life clearly shoves it at our face that we have no choice. That we are not free in any ways after all. Any illusion we have of freedom is going to be scatter over and over again every time we wake up from our bed and into another day.
Someone bangs the door hard and almost make me jump out of my skin. "Brendon, are you done with Ryan? It's almost time!" They shout.
I turn back to Ryan, who is looking down with his hair covering his face. The fact that I cannot see his eyes makes it even harder for me to make him do anything, to make him do something that both of us don't want him to. But if I were to procrastinate anymore, the owner of the auction house is not going to be so forgiving. The last time a prostitute went to the auctioning hall late, they sold him off to 3 customers a night and he was forced to sell his body for the whole week without rest. I don't want him to end up that way. Even if I dread the fact that he's going to be forced to sell his body when I lead him to the auction hall tonight, at least he won't be forced and tossed around like a fuck doll every night.
"Ryan...” My fingers pierce into my skin as my body tenses up, that ever familiar pain raging inside me every time this day comes around. He refuses to look at me at all.
I sigh, going near him and wrapping my hands around him snuggly.
He leans into my embrace, soft silky hair sweeping my face as he closes his eyes, soft breaths a little haggard coming from him.
"This is not fair..." He whimpers.
His fingers dance down my spine and I lean deeper into his embrace, trying to steal the affection and hope this seemingly nothing gesture to most, but means the earth to me. It's now that I can escape from reality, it is this moment that I can pretend that I am not what I am, not what I do to live, not thinking of what he is to me. It's now that everything's perfect; everything's what I want, when I am only with him.
He strokes my hair and the other hand rubbing across my back. "I know..." He whispers back. "I am sorry, Ryan, I am sorry."
I shake my head, kissing his neck. "This is not your fault, it's not."
And I pull away from his embrace, looking straight into his eyes, trying to convey my words to him. "It has nothing to do with you, Brendon. It doesn't. It's..." I dip down, kissing his jaw, trying to pretend that this moment will last forever.
His tongue runs a trail around my jaws, small pecks here and there when he moves down my neck. I pull him up, gently merging our lips together.
Kissing his baby soft lips that will be crusted soon later when he comes back to the room tonight, I try to push away all the thoughts invading my mind, trying to savor this moment with him.
"I will bring you out on a date this Friday night, okay?" I breathe out, stroking his face lightly. "I know it's not much, I know it doesn't compensate even a little on what you have to go through, but at least... it's something to look forward to, right?" I hold his wrist tighter, silently wondering who is the one I am consoling when I am a hair breath away from breaking down myself.
He gnaws on his lips, a little hair covering his face. He looks up and kisses me lightly, a soft yet so intimate kiss. He breaks away, forehead resting on mine, looking into my eyes and it feels like he's looking into my soul. "It's a date then." He gives a little smile, still somewhat strain but happier than before.
I smile and nod, rubbing his left hand slightly.
I stand up, putting out my right hand to him and he looks up, still with the strained smile and takes my hand and let me lead him to the changing room.