Kairos - Blood (MxM) | Book 2 | ✅

47.Silence Was My Enemy

Black sheets shrouded me and I wiggled my way out of their ruthless folds, sighing my frustration.

No Jack. He had already left.

Silence crept over me like twining vines sinking thorns deeper and deeper into my soul. But at least it hadn't been just my imagination.

Not a dream, eh?

I swallowed the pills. A bitter taste coated my tongue.

In need of some sweatpants, I roamed the bedroom and found myself staring at the many dark suits in the dresser — all in Jack's size. Drunk with the musky scent hidden everywhere inside this house, I eventually put on some pants and wobbled over to the kitchen.

After a quick drink of water, I turned on the coffee machine anticipating the first cigarette of the day. Uncertain in every movement, I still cleaned up around me as best as I could. It wasn't the use of my left hand instead of the right that threw me off balance, but the drowsy state induced by the pain medication.

I blamed the pills for my failure to say those three words. Come on! How hard is it to say 'I love you' to the person you actually love?

But that was a poor excuse for my cowardice.

Spoken words had failed me so many times in the past. Yet whenever I wrote them, I could bend words to my will and have them mean what I wanted them to mean.

I looked around the house for pen and paper and quickly found them in the office.

As the coffee brewed I sat at the table in the kitchen and tested out my left hand. I could write with it — I had done so before. Ambidextrous was the term, but I never put much effort into having both hands be able to perform the same type of task.

My left-hand writing turned out to be chicken-scratch. But who cared as long as Jack could actually read it?

Dear Jack,

I love you.

Every time I try to utter these words, I fail. So I'm writing them instead.

I love you.

There must be an opportune moment for me to speak them aloud, I just haven't found it yet. Kairos is a bitch. The best freaking moment to act sometimes takes a while.

I love you, Jack.

It feels as if time has never been on our side; be it the slippery past that I'm unable to grasp or the little bits we have been able to spend together. I want us to have years, decades and forever to be with each other and to hold on to one another.

I love you.

It's still heavy and strange on the tongue. Maybe because I know that if I say it once, a dam will break and I won't be able to stop from saying it over and over again. And that might push you away.

I love you, Master.

You can be sweet and you can be cruel. I love both sides and if it were possible, I'd grovel at your feet for an eternity and live solely to please you.

I love you, Jack.

The man that you are now and not the boy who I can't fully remember. You. Your patience. Your tenderness. Your humor. I see them as stories that I'm dying to read and live over and over again. But you don't like yourself very much. I think you feel guilty. I know a little something about guilt. Don't wallow in it. Not when it's about me. You once said that you'd forgive me anything and I believed you. So please believe me when I say that I too would forgive you anything. Never feel guilty because of me.