Happiness (Boyxboy)

Day Four

                    Day Four
                   (11:18 a.m)

When I woke up on the fourth day, it wasn't by Rosa or Elliot, or any of the other maids or butlers. It was by the light from the window, the curtains were drawn.

I blinked a few times before fully opening my eyes. I felt quite lethargic and reminiscent of a bear in hibernation but I attempted to get up. Only I couldn't, something was holding me tightly. I couldn't move, I realize, because my master was curled around me. His arms were wrapped around my waist, his head was on my shoulder, face stuffed in my neck, and his legs were tangled with mine.

I smiled to myself, letting my gaze slide over to my master. He was so beautiful. He had morning hair of course, blonde curls sticking up everywhere, not that they didn't stick up anyway. He had his lips parted slightly, soft plump lips that I had an urge to peck.

                       An urge.

And of course, I gave into that urge. I brushed my lips against his, inhaling, before pressing my lips to his. His lips felt so soft against mine, so right, like they were meant to be there. Then he kisses back and I pull away immediately.

"Sorry, Master," I say shyly, he nods before rubbing his eyes. A small smile tugs at his lips and he shakes his head. He pulls back the covers revealing his nudity. I cover my eyes immediately, blushing furiously. He slept like that and I didn't notice?! He stands, stretching, before taking hold of my hand and practically dragging me to the bathroom.

"Master?" I ask confused as we stand there in the bathroom. He walks over to the bath and turns on the faucet. I look everywhere but his nudity of course, and once the tub is halfway he puts in bubbles. He then turns around and points at me. Specifically my clothing.

I feel myself flush red and wrap my arms around myself. "Master, I don't want you to see," I whisper. He cocks his head lightly as if to ask why. "I just don't want you to see master, please."

He nods with pursed lips. As if to say, you don't trust me. Guilt smacks me immediately. We've bathed before but the bubbles covered me. Either way I would eventually have to show my master my body. He's my master!

My master always treated me like I was beautiful, like I meant everything to him, so why? Why couldn't I give back one thing?

                     Afraid.

Because I'm afraid he won't like me anymore, because I'm frightened he'll toss me away like garbage, because I'm terrified that I won't be good enough. Yes, that's why. I'm scared to trust, I don't want to feel pain anymore.

But this is my master.

      He wouldn't make me do
            anything I didn't
                 want to do.

I pull off my sweatshirt, revealing a tanktop underneath. Mentally pleading that he won't see the scars my master left me with her nails, I drop the sweatshirt to the floor. He's already in the bath, faucet off, bubbles intact. He looks up boredly, a front I notice. He hides his emotions behind that unamused expression.

I drop my sweats and stand there in just my briefs and tanktop. I am shaking uncontrollably and holding my breath. Squeezing my eyes shut I take off my briefs and pull off my tanktop. I'm looking down now at my feet praying he won't comment on my body or the scars on my wrist and chest from my old master. But then again, master never really talked did he? He never said anything that wasn't necessary. But then again, was telling me I'm beautiful necessary? Was reading to me necessary?