Auctioned

Liam / Allison

              LIAM

The little box sitting on the edge. Taunting me. I should know better than to give her a gift and create expectations.  I didn’t go out of my way to gift her something for Christmas.

After all, I provide her with everything she wants or needs on a daily basis.  But it hasn’t been sitting right with me.

      I want to spoil her.  I want my kitten to be nothing but happy.

      The silver wrapping paper is folded perfectly; the edges of the box are sharp with a white ribbon tied neatly on top.  It’s picture perfect, and inside is something I think she’ll love.

      A bracelet.

      Then there’s a Merry Christmas bauble for the holiday we shared together, and a New Year’s charm with champagne glasses and the year for tonight.  A turquoise charm for the month of December, when she finally became mine.

      The last one is a silver heart with “kitten” engraved on it.  It looks like a tag that would hang from a collar.  Even though she hasn’t yet told me she’s ready for a collar, I want her to have it.
      I wouldn’t give her a collar with that anklet still on her.  I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but it does.  I won’t allow her to wear my collar while she has that anklet on.  Simply because of what it symbolizes.  He still has a part of her, and I want all of her.  We’re halfway through this arrangement already.  But we can always renew the contract.
      A bit of insecurity weighs down on my chest, making it feel tight and uncomfortable as I light the last candle in the enclosed patio.

      The glass enclosure all opens to the outside, as though they’re extravagant windows, but it’s far too cold to open them in December.  But with the candles lining the room and the stars lighting the night, it’s gorgeous out here.

      I have the large flat screen TV on with the ball drop from the New Year’s countdown on, although it’s muted.
      It’s… romantic.  Which isn’t my normal scene.

      But for her, I wanted to give her something.  She’ll never know what spending Christmas with her family did for me.  It wasn’t a selfish act.  It was all for her, but in the process, something switched and I owe her this.

      Being with her family only showed me how different we really are.

      And how much is available to her.
      The lies flowed so easily for me as I tried to blend in.  They couldn’t know who I really was.  They’d never understand.  But it was nice to fake it, at least for a little while.  It was a real pleasure to feel a sense of family.
      She has a collection of people who love her, and who want to be loved by her in return.  They’ll be there for her when I’m gone.  When I send her away.  I’ll have to.  I can never truly fit in with her family.

      Lying about us only emphasizes that fact.
     
      “You know all you do is make me sick.”  My mom sits on the sofa, staring straight ahead and for a moment, I pretend she isn’t talking to me.  I’d just walked through the door.  I stole for the first time.  Christmas is next week and I know my mom needs shoes.  Hers have holes in them.  Mine do too, but I could only fit one pair in my coat.  I was so afraid of getting caught.  I think the cashier saw me, but let me walk out.  I don’t know for sure.  So for my shoes, I’ll have to go somewhere else.  I’m too afraid that the cashier from before will recognize me.
      I hear my mom talking about how I’m pathetic and weak, but I pretend those words aren’t meant for me.  Like she’s talking to the wall she’s been staring at since I walked in.  But I know she is, and when she finally turns to look at me, I can see she’s high again.  “He wasn’t supposed to go to war.  It’s your fault.  It’s all because of you,” she sneers at me.
      She tells me I drove him to leave.  They fought because of me.  He went to war because of me.
      Sometimes she admits that she loved him.  Those moments at least make me a little happy.  I thought I was starting to imagine the memories of us being a family.
      She doesn’t tell me she loves me.  She doesn’t admit that.
      But she does.  I know she does.
      The sound of the front door opening makes me move faster through the living room to my bedroom.  I’m not safe there, but if I stay away, I may be able to avoid him beating on me.
      “Yeah, run away, Liam.  Run away, just like your father did,” I hear her voice continue to taunt me as I shut the thin veneer door to my small room.  “Run away, coward!”
     
      I clear my throat and straighten my dark red tie, ignoring the painful past.
      I fucking hate these suits.  I have to wear them at the club, but I wasn’t meant to wear them.  But again, it’s a romantic date of sorts.  And I bought her a dress to wear.
      It’s short, but elegant.  A sparkling silver shift dress that’ll probably come off as soon as I get my hands on her, but I thought she’d like it.  The way the fabric flows made me think of her twirling in it.
      I hope that’s what she’s doing now, twirling in her room to make the ends of it swish around her upper thighs.
      A small huff of a rough laugh leaves my lips as I sit down on the modern white sofa and take a look around.
      It’s simple, but it’s something.
      Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, a bracelet and candlelight.  My gift to her.  It’s not enough.  I can never give her enough.
      The thought makes my skin prick with a chill that runs from my shoulders down to my toes.  I crack my neck and try to ignore the thoughts that have been creeping into my head late at night.
      Seeing her family… did something to me.  It reminded me of her purity.  The life she’s working toward gaining back.  The life she wants, although she doesn’t realize it.  Again it makes me think I’m not a capable Master for her.  It’s a life I don’t belong in.