TOUGH LOVE • MICHAEL GRAY FANFIC

5

His eyes, the colour of something so pure and beautiful meet mine as he asks me a simple question.

Do you want Gods love?

Yes, I would respond, feeling his hands against my shoulders. He pushed me away from his face, and like a river that rushes in, someone takes me from behind and he tells me to beg.

My fingers inch over his oak desk as I begin to beg for God to love me. Muffling my tears, as my eyes sting from the pain. I yelp, hearing him begin to moan out loud that I'm doing good. Hughes said he could hear God begin to forgive me.

And then, when he finished he'd zip up his pants and spin me back around. Kissing me lightly on the forehead, he'd run his fingers through my hair and tell me I did good. And just like that, I'd go back to class.

I open my eyes from the memory and see Michael sleeping soundlessly before me. His got his eyes shut, lips plump, the beauty marks on his face look perfect under the sunlight that creeps in.

I lay in my dress, him in his suit. We talked a lot last night, about him, about me, about our lives after the orphanage. Tangled in each other's arms before sleep overcame us. We didn't once kiss again, which I couldn't help but be thankful for. He was still patient.

I drag my thumb over his bottom lip and wonder if I can remember them against mine. I miss his lips against mine. But I keep that to myself. Our legs are entangled, his hand around my back, keeping me from falling off of the small hospital bed. We're smushed together, our hips, arms, hands innocently drawn to each other.

I've never slept consistently through the night before, this was the first time. I usually wake up with the shakes, or that feeling of my heart in my throat and my lungs being squeezed shut. Sometimes I wake up in a panic, a nightmare of one of the fathers in bed with me.

I went to a witch about that, one wintry night. I was drunk and on my usual cocktail of sleeping medication, slurring words to her as tears ran down my heeks because I had freaked my date out. He was this man so sweet and good to me, and I somehow managed to ruin that by screaming into his lips as he tried to get handsy with me. I was convinced I was cursed, or at least was possessed. Now that I think about it, I laugh. But in the moment, I was a total wreck.

She had explained to me that the traumas Hughes and the other Father's had brought to me will never go away. Told me that every time she looks at me, she sees a smirking man behind me in the shadows. Tall and handsome, disguised as a good man. A man with power who only abuses that fact. She described the man to me, only to detail the man who had hurt me for years. Hughes.

She swore a demon follows me, bound to my chest. And when I asked her how to get rid of it, she looked at me and smiled. "Let go of the past and the demon shall let go of you, my dear."

Looking at a sleeping Michael, I can't help but wonder if he's the same. Has he let go of the past or does he still let Hughes into his everyday life. I run my fingers along the side of his face, noting the imperfections I love most. He's growing a bit of facial hair, it's microscopic really. I blush watching as he moans.

His hand that rests around my arms pushes me into him. Our chests press against each others, my breasts almost oozing out of the dress.

"Why are you teasing me?" He asks his voice raspy and sexy. As if to make me understand what he means, his legs, that rest between mine lightly grind into me. I can feel his length brush me through my dress. He bites down on his bottom lip. "I've only ever dreamt of waking up beside you, June."

"And are the dreams just as real?" I beam, his smile makes me smile so hard.

"They ain't shit compared to reality." He grins. Hints of yellow, blue, brown, orange dance in his eyes. I could stare into his eyes all day. The most beautiful combination that makes me blush every time he looks at me. I run my fingers through his hair, combing out it out.