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Jhonte looked in the spotless mirror. He observed his appearance; under his eyes lay heavy bags, his eyes were bloodshot red, and he could see he had visibly lost weight. As his red eyes went lower, he could see the small pudge in his stomach, and once again, he wanted to break down in tears. It seemed that ever since he was brought into this cruel world, bad things happened to him. Deep in the darkest parts of his fragile mind, he wanted all of his pain to end, but his growing child was what kept him alive.
At a very young age, Jhonte was abused by his family for being different. His father, with his unexplainable strength, would hit and curse the child for something he had no control over. His mother would always turn a blind eye and allow her husband to inflict pain upon her child. Jhonte's brothers and sisters were no better; they were like bullies, always talking down to him and even going as far as physically hurting him as well.
At the age of 16, his parents had enough of the naïve child, so in a fit of rage, they quite literally threw him out of their house to leave him to fend for himself. Jhonte suffered for weeks until he met Marquees. Marquees took pity on the young male, leading to him taking Jhonte in. The two became closer and closer; Jhonte thought he had finally found happiness, but over time, something in Marquees changed.
"We ain't together, Jhonte. Just 'cause we fuck don't mean shit," the older would often tell the younger. Marquees would make love to him, or at least that's what it felt like; he couldn't process how someone so self-centered could make him feel like he was on cloud nine. Marquees knew about the past abuse the younger male had to endure. Although he would never lay a finger on Jhonte, he knew how to hurt him with his words.
Marquees couldn't find it in his heart to love the younger, but for some reason, he couldn't let him go. No one compared to Jhonte; he saw the younger as his property, and he made sure everybody knew that. He knew Jhonte deserved better, but he had it in his mind that the younger was his.
Meanwhile, a tired Marquees entered his house, and the familiar smell brought him comfort. As he tiredly made his way upstairs, he was met with pin-drop silence. When he opened the door to his room, he saw Jhonte sitting at the window, looking at the falling snow. Marquees went up to the younger and wrapped his strong arms around him. He then moved his meaty hands to caress the younger's swollen belly, to which Jhonte leaned into his warm embrace.
Jhonte's heart swelled at the gesture, but he knew better. Instead of pushing the older away, he let the much larger man talk to their growing child.
"I'm sorry," the older said in a low whisper.
Jhonte didn't respond; he just continued to look outside. Marquees knew he was causing his lover pain, but he knew he was unpredictable. He could say he was sorry all day long, but actions speak louder than words. He wanted to change and give the younger the love he deserved; he was going to do right by him one day— that much he knew.
