Unwilling to Be Yours

It’s Me Me Monday! A day to promote, strut, and celebrate your Me-ness…only in my condition, it’s more my hangover-ness. (wry grin) At some point, I’m going to remember I can’t drink as much as I used to. (another wry grin)

Peter isn’t feeling much better than I do. He’s still regretting what he said last Wednesday in Unwilling to Be Yours (QueerBlogWed). Fortunately, Gabrielle is there for him. As bosses go, she’s not so bad, for all her eccentricity.

Unwilling to Be Yours is the second prelude I’m sharing in segments at the Cauldron to Stealing Myself From Shadows. Stealing Myself From Shadows is the first book in my Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest series. It’s currently under revision right now…in fact it’s my NaNoWriMo project. 🙂

 

“Thank you for saving him.” Gabrielle dropped her hands to dangle at her sides. “I’m ashamed to admit I’m not sure if I would have gotten to Christopher in time.”

I took another step closer to ‘Waiting for Rebirth’. It was nothing, but a painting now. A harsh looking abstract painting.

Christopher thought it was a painting of his soul. This was what Damian saw in him, what no one else could see.

Not a flattering portrayal. Damian didn’t do Christopher justice, not one bit.

“I’m not sure if Damian actually did paint Christopher’s soul.” I stared at the strokes of white paint, eating through the shapes and colors. “I think he projected his own soul onto Christopher.”

“I often think the same thing.” Gabrielle sighed, lifting her shoulders in something which might have been a shudder or a shrug. “Unfortunately, it’s not the sort of thing I can tell Christopher.”

“No.” Such a bleak, hopeless word, yet honest. “You can never tell someone the man he worships is flawed. Even if he knows deep down in his heart that’s true.”

“Do you think Christopher knows?” ‘Brie moved in a rustle of skirts from the counter, away from the painting.

I turned to face her. “He said nothing, when I accused Damian of a dangerous disregard for you and yours. He would have jumped to his hero’s defense, if he could have. He couldn’t.”

“Yes,” Gabrielle said, sighing herself. “Will you do a favor for me. Peter?”

“Of course,” I said, although I wasn’t sure if I’d want to. “What would you like me to do?”

“Get rid of that painting.” Hostility radiated off of Gabrielle. Dark energy was hissing around her, gliding towards ‘Waiting for Rebirth’. “It’s proven too dangerous to keep.”

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