My Trophy Boy

Dessert

Q

I'm not sure if he's noticed what he's done..

He literally knocked out after the statement he made about the pitch. He leaned into me, his head was now laying on my chest and his arm snaked round my torso.

What. The. Fuck...

I was confused and felt slightly uncomfortable. I don't cuddle or snuggle, so it was a weird unfamiliar feeling. It made me feel inner emotions I've never felt before.

He was so vulnerable. He looked like a rare delicate flower and it was my duty to protect him.

I shifted so I could hold him as he slept.

I felt pity for him and his sister. They have no home and no real assets currently in their lives.

I made sure there was someone to watch his mother. I was going to deal with it, but I needed to wait for Holland's approval. Problem is in terms of knowing each other we're on two different levels, but that's why I bribed him with £15/hr. He seemed happy with it although his skill set is worth more, but it's up to him now how much he wants to see me. He doesn't realise that I need him, but it's okay... that takes time I guess.
I hate waiting..

Can I buy him a house?
Can I sponsor him?
Can I make him mine?!

Take it slow... I had to remind myself.

His heart beat is in sync with my own..

He looked beautiful as he slept. The fragrance of his awesome Afroey hair was of a sweet smell and reflected his nature well.
He is a sweet boy.

His hair was magical and it's something I'd never be able to comprehend. Black people seem to have the most versatile hair in comparison to other races. Not just in how they style it, but even the textures. This morning his hair was fluffy like cotton, and when I was standing at the door in the hotel I wanted to pull him into a kiss and grab it. However, when he met me in the lobby his hair turned into little shiny coils which one would assume would take hours to do.

His sister, Paris, was bubbly. She really reminded me of M. It's crazy how much strangers of no relation could resemble each other. Does that show our relation to each other as a species?
She had big puffy, high volumed hair which was very different to Holland's. Both kinds were beautiful in magical ways.

Holland my baby, my lamb, the holder of my heart.. hugged me and it was making me quickly loosen one of my many boundaries. He held me as if it meant something, as if he needed it, but I know this isn't him.. just subconscious him. It's hard not to look into it when an action like this is personal to me.

He was pretty comfortable, but I knew it would make me yearn for him more. This is not affection, this is simply a slumber I'm holding to satisfy his comfort and needs in this moment. He isn't even aware of what he was doing. And what I've gathered from this man is he likes his personal space. Which is why it's surprising he wanted me to sit close next to him before we watched one of my favourite action movies.

How can a lamb hold a lion's heart?
...
...

~

"I've made spiced carrot walnut cake and a Russian roulette crumble with Mr Grant!" Excitedly smiled Paris as I walked into the kitchen.

She had two plates in her hands which I presumed were a piece of each dessert she made. She walked over to me and handed me them.

"You must try them. I need your opinions. Holly and my cousin are the only people that try my stuff. You should also give Mr Grant a pay rise, because his skills in the kitchen are legendary!" Her innocence and enthusiasm was refreshing.