8: Metanoia

144 82 202
                                    

   Jonathan anticipated it

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


   Jonathan anticipated it. The flood of morpheme that would echo through the pungent air of the house which had been wrecked by the average heighted man. His brows knotted at the thought of the man who had managed to shake his core, belittling him to a man rid of honour.

Respect wasn't a force to be reckoned with he voiced to himself neither was fear. With Mr Sussex it was respect,  but there was another factor invovled. Another which had shoved him down the road of submission sending the bundle of pride he was quite fond of to its grave early.

That factor was mercy, it was sweet to the lips born of flesh but rather that dear word had caused him to shiver in his flesh, bowing his head and shutting off the spiraling words formulating in his mind.

Mercy that halted, hindered  and served goosebumps at his skin occupied with a great deal of hair Jonathan hated. It was Mercy, he  whispered, a surge for Mercy he had never been obliged too yet he surrendered yielding in defeat.

The promise to will death by the heart when alternatives were just dreams to withhold had shriveled. An ole' saying I shall take death by heart he kept telling himself in the months that came knocking pass suddenly unsurpassed, although he hoped for a chance.

Today! he felt he desired a chance.  It was mercy, the frizzled whisper beckoned. Mercy that turned the man of honour, pride and affinity towards the same direction as the  abode of his emotion filled heart.

It was Mercy! Mercy aside the torrid emotions compiled together. All had made him a slave to fear he once trampled upon.

Jonathan knew- he just knew what was behind the new reign of mercy. More over, he had his eyes so fixed on the destruction afflicted upon his home that he retracted his gaze  from flickering to the lady born of curls.

Morpheme would still beck.  Piles and piles of it shoved down his ears till it had stuck a ring to it. Albeit this,  Jonathan found himself unprepared unlike he was with his life ahead.

No spiral of thought had suited him for this. It was broken honour against allegations, questions against answers he had only tabled few before Reyer despite their years of frienship.

It was always the same I'm in debt, I brought a couple of drugs I couldn't pay off. I had also gotten mixed up in the wrong side of town now the vile men of the north wants my head on their wall.  Nothing more than that, even when there was more than his lips couldn't say. He kept it hidden in his little soul.

When it would fall to Madison the answers of his indebtedness would dig up the debris from his past. But, obfuscation would be his soulmate in such decision. More likely a sought through partner but as much as he knew the soul behind his sudden flow of emotions he knew obfuscation  wouldn't dare take a stand.

Back to July(a short story) ✔✔EDITINGWhere stories live. Discover now