Master

Chapter 8

Lincoln's P.O.V.

Kalem was a strange, little human.

I watch, both sad and confused, as Kalem cleans my bathroom for the third time today, scrubbing the spotless spots he'd cleaned earlier. I tried to stop him, but he refused, intent on cleaning every surface he could find, particularly the ones I used to most. Fighting me on all my attempts to take him from his stupid cleaning supplies.

Kalem had gone into 'ultimate slave mode' as the elf liked to call it.

He'd taken on this role from the day I parted from his side for the first time, somehow regressing into the persona of what he thought to be the perfect slave. His actions meant to please me as if his presence didn't already do that. 

It was sad to watch him digress in this way, any slivers of a hidden personality that had shone through him since being with me had retracted and been buried deeper than I knew possible.

I'd scared him that day, my absence terrifying him to the point that he blamed himself instead of blaming my incompetence.

It was a dreadful day for both of us.

But what confused me was the way Kalem went against so many things I thought were things slaves wouldn't dare to do. He wasn't afraid to refuse my wishes whenever cleanign entered the equation, nor was he cautious of touching me whenever he pleased. Adoring me with hugs that I honestly didn't think he could help giving.

It was like Kalem was incapable of completely being what he aimed to be, his adorable traits faulting his hearty efforts to be the perfect slave.

It was the most confusing thing to watch. Both sad and amusing at times, seeing him chase his tail aimlessly trying to be something he could never be. For Kalem, the real Kalem that laid beneath what he presented, was everything a 'perfect' slave was not.

He was expressive, saying any and everything that came to mine. Kalem was imaginative, saw the world in a light I don't think any other could. But best of all Kalem was simply Kalem, a clumsy, beautiful boy who thought that yellow was the best color in the world and loved falling asleep to a story every night. 

Thus, the blend made him a strange human.

His company and growing personality called to a part of me that I didn't know rested within me. I found myself smiling more in a single day than I had in an entire decade. I found joy making Kalem happy, a deep contrast to the man I'd been for as long as I could recall, one that only liked pleasing myself. 

Kalem wasn't quite changing me, more so, altering certain aspects of myself and I didn't mind it nearly as much as I expected to.

"Kalem, the bathroom is clean enough," I say pulling him from the tiled floor despite his protests.

Kalem looks up at me sadly, the soaped sponge still in his hands as he dangled aimlessly in my grasp.

"You've done a superb job love," I assure him, but the dismayed look on his face didn't shift much so I added the words I knew helped. "You've pleased me," I finish uncomfortably, voicing the words I hated to say more than anything.

It brought him down to a position lower than my own and that made me more uncomfortable than anything else ever could. Yet they were the only words that made Kalem listen.

Innocently, Kalem beams up at me. His little body practically vibration in my grasps as joy fills his features, completely ecstatic he tries to hug me.

"Oh no you don't." I say, extending my arms to keep him away. "No hugs while your wet and soapy."

Kalem pouts, looking up at me with pleading eyes and a droopy lip that I had no chance against.