Ebb and Flow - Book 1

Nineteen

Trigger warning: brief discussion of childhood trauma (covered in earlier chapter).

Gulf's instinct was to recoil, retreat, refuse. To disengage. But the smallest part of him - a new little voice - was telling him to talk. He knew that Mew was trying to distract him from what had occurred between them. He wasn't stupid. No, no.

He didn't like talking to people, sharing himself. But something about the earnest encouragement in Mew's eyes...In fact, since their first meeting, Gulf had often found himself - in both waking and sleeping dreams - talking to Mew. They weren't the wet dreams of his early teenage years. They just talked, and then Mew would hug him close with his warm, sunshine arms, and Gulf would just float. A little weightless floss of a white cloud, floating happily.

So Gulf took a deep breath, lowered his eyes to the floor and began to talk.He talked of his late mother and lost brothers, of the actions of his uncle. He described his experiences of life in state homes - the bruises and solitude - then his journey into work, university and friendship. He talked of past lovers and his romantic versatility, then his ambition to have his own business in the future, as well as his beliefs about societal issues around ABO dynamics.

In contrast to Mew, Gulf spoke in linear, a straightforward depiction, episodic, eyes always down. If he paused or stumbled, Mew would ask a question, helping him up to continue with his story.

Gulf didn't talk about how he had felt. But Mew had experienced every one of his emotions along the way. His despair, his fear, his bitterness and loneliness, then his strength, pride, determination and passion. But more than anything, Mew felt vulnerability. Not just vulnerability in the story, but in the voice that was telling it, and this bruised him at his core.

Gulf fell silent but kept his chin pointing downwards, eyes almost closed. Reaching out to gently turn his cheek, Mew saw that Gulf's eyes were wet, blinking furiously now, to clear the tears. But they fell.

"Bastard" said Gulf, and Mew hugged him.

They sat there on the floor, hugging, holding, sharing each other. Mew wanted his arms to say 'I will support you, let me comfort you'. Gulf heard his tears cry 'we aren't here because he's sad, we're here because he could tell you'. He was that little cloud in those warm arms and he sniffled (pathetically, he thought) into their strength.

'BUZZ!' sounded the intercom, as P'Min's face appeared on the camera, waving to be let into the building.