Unwilling to Be Yours

It’s QueerBlogWed…a time to express and celebrate queerness in our blogs.

For me, it’s one of the three days of the week I share another piece of a prelude to Stealing Myself From Shadows.

Right now, that ongoing story is Unwilling to Be Yours…

Peter finds himself facing Christopher in the garden, right when he was about to chuck ‘Waiting for Rebirth’…

 

I expected to be yelled at. I at least expected a glare for removing his precious ‘Waiting for Rebirth’.

A smile spread across Christopher’s face, like a sunbeam shooting through the cloud.

All right, I wasn’t expecting that reaction.

“I know why.” He gazed at me as if I’d become the most beautiful creature in the world. “This is where Damian painted it. This is where it belongs.”

“I see!” I said, although I didn’t see at all.

I looked around at the roses, the open air. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to know where I should put it?”

“In the gazebo,” Christopher said. He stood to the side and gestured to a seat. “Just leave it here.”

Not the best idea, leaving a picture leaning against a seat in a gazebo. It would get damaged here. On the other hand, did I really care if ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ was damaged?

Christopher studied the painting. His entire face had softened. There was a tenderness in his rose purple eyes, which I’d never seen before.

I definitely didn’t care. If ‘Waiting for Rebirth’ was damaged, I would let out a silent cheer. Why was I hesitating?

Because it had been too easy taking it to the garden.

I wasn’t sure if Christopher was right. I wasn’t sure if this thing belonged here.

It wanted to be here. I sensed this, just as I sensed which item in the Navel a customer truly desired.

This made me uneasy.

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