Love Overcast // (ManxMan)

=Chapter 11=

A/N: Owen up top. He's got such an interesting air about him. A match of both soft puppy eyes and hard rugged stubble and jaw. Love it love it love it!

[Owen]

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'It takes one yar for the heart to break completely,

Two, for it to mend,

Three, for it to go numb,

Four, for it to laugh,

Five, for it to start believing... Once again.'

-- Lydia O. Red (@TheCuppedCake)

*~*~*

There has to be a reason why my mind had chose to bring Jameson with me up to the door of Sebastien's house yesterday night, correct? Is it some sort of visceral decision that I am not aware I have made before my impressio of this relationship has been completely cemented?

Behind my closed eyes I can still see his face, that perpetually confusing face that I find oh so attractive but at the same time, not really. I've always had a thing for built men, not just your run of the mill model physique, I enjoy looking at insanely built men that body build for a passion and it's fascinating to see that there are body builders out there that look as good as they do minus the body.

What I seek in a man is one that can sooth my worries, defend me when I'm unable to do so for myself, be the pillar I need so I can build a heaven on Earth for the two of us. But with the physical strength I seek, is also the physical strength I fear immensely.

I admit, I was once infatuated with Jameson, he is the epitome of what I look for when I open up any form of social media. I've never met a full on body builder, I exercise but that's only in form of running and the occasional swim when I have more time but I have never gone in a gym for the intention of working out. I'm not into the mundane nature of repetition, also explains why I don't enjoy swimming as much as running, because running allows for more freedom.

Seeing someone like Jameson made me fantasise and idealise, thinking of the nights where he would hold me and stop my nightmares, making sure I am taking care of myself because I am clearly incapable of doing that. But that is merely just a fantasy, because when he caught my wrist that day, I was terrified. He reminded me of the times where I had no freedom, that I was controlled. He reminded me of them, the people who broke me, who broke Roman.

Perhaps I'm being insanely hypocritical in saying that I want to be pampered, but I don't want to be powerless. Boundaries are important, I suppose. To what extent can fantasy and reality compromise? I know there is no such thing as perfection, but there are compromises, it's relatively easy to figure out with living people, but intangible ideals? No so much.

Each passing day, Jameson's appearances in my field of view around the shelter seem to increase, it feels like he is purposefully going to where I am, but at the same time, I feel like it's because I am picking up on his presence more and more. Crushes tend to do that, even in a sea of people, the person you have feelings for always sticks out like a sore thumb without making an effort. So maybe it's that? Or maybe it's because of paranoia, I'm so afraid of him that I keep an eye out for him constantly.

But if I really do fear him so much, then why would I invite him indirectly to dinner and now to sleep over under the same roof? Why would I make the terrible excuse of making my hatred for him seem unfair? Granted it is unfair, however, there is a clear line between fairness and reality. Reality is that I am confused, I can't say I like him, nor can I say I hate him. Somewhere in between is confusion, and I am dead in the centre of that mess. Regardless of fairness, I am confused.