Destiny's Betrayal

The Heaven

Waking up the next morning was surreal and at first I only came to slowly, before suddenly it all hit me at once. There was a small initial dropping sense of depression, a slight panic, as the first thing I noticed was I was waking up, although hardly for the first time, with the sort of warmness that could only be attributed to the heat of laying alongside another human body. For the shortest of moments I felt the uncomfortably familiar self-loathing before I realized I was still wearing yesterday's clothes and so was the body beneath me.

A moment was all it took for it all to come flooding back, knocking the breath out of me with a sigh as it did. I struggled to accept the fact but as I let myself sit up tenderly, looking around it, it was hard not to feel at least a little elated at the rescue. Because here it was, it was all real. Last night I really had been saved from what would surely have been my end by a handsome black haired stranger, my guardian angel. And he was still here watching over me, taking me in and caring for me when no one else would.

As I sat there in disbelief I continued to be unable to make it sink in; what had happened, what was happening, it was almost too good to be true. The fact that this one man was willing to look after me, take me in under his wing so to speak, take care of me so never again would I have to spend another night naked in a stranger's bed hating every inch of my existence. Suddenly it seemed like maybe my life could have a purpose, maybe the Universe was giving me another shot, it hadn't given up on me yet.

I felt happier at that prospect than I was sure I'd felt in years because it was the first spark of hope I'd ever felt towards anything. Great. Even before my parents had kicked me out it wasn't quite like I'd been a part of the most loving and supporting family unit. It had never really felt like the Universe had much good planned for me; growing up poor with parents whom it was clear to see had regretted having children in the first place, or at least regretted me, they'd always seemed to like my brother more than me. They were never around much either way, and when they were there was a lot of shouting, at each other, or at us. Me and Adrian, we'd had to stick together, but I'd come to the realization the Universe was not on my side around the time he turned 12 and somehow his childhood innocence was lost. He'd stopped looking up to me as his big brother, and that hurt. That he'd tried to distance himself from me when he was often the only good thing in my life, that hurt a lot. It had almost hurt more, his rejection compared to my parents when I'd come out, because he took their side of course; he'd always been closer to mum and dad anyway. Not that they were my parents anymore for that matter, nor Adrian my brother. Now I only had myself, or at least that was true up until last night. Now suddenly I had Phil, and that meant I had hope. Somehow I felt closer to being whole again; a large gap was beginning to be filled.

As I lay marveling at that for what I was sure was hours eventually the man who was my savior began to stir, waking up alongside me. His embrace wrapped tighter around me, and his warm breath tickled my neck where he nuzzled his face in against me. Soft, affectionate. A contact that sent pleasant shivers down my spine.

'Morning,' he murmured before shifting away from me, leaving me cold. Sitting up behind me, I followed suit, lifting myself up next to him while watching him with wide eyes as he yawned, rubbing his eyes before his gaze landed back on me, watching me watching him.

'How're you feeling?' he asked kindly with a small smile, reaching over and brushing my fringe over to one side. More contact, more shivering. The good kind. Only ever the good kind from now on.

'Better,' I replied softly, leaning into his touch as his fingers traced gently down my cheek. Phil's smile dropped however as he looked me over more carefully and, suddenly feeling very self conscious, I realised I probably looked a bit of a mess. You couldn't really expect much more from someone who'd been living half on the streets for the last few months. My only showers came when I was able to grab one at whoever's flat I ended up crashing at each night. If 'crashing at' was even the right term to use.