Creating the Magic of Us

Chapter 8

Marvin didn't know what he'd even say to someone like Anti, who was a hell of a lot more intimidating than he'd first anticipated. He'd never seen Anti up close before, only ever noticing him from the crowd on occasion. This man seemed like someone he wouldn't want to piss off, just from his appearance alone, and Marvin paused when he realized that he'd never actually heard Anti speak before. His act was more of a visual thing, rather than one that required a bravado monologue like Marvin's. He didn't have to speak to draw in the audience. He had their attention at first glance.

He considered turning back, just pretending like he didn't already know who left that love note on his dresser, but that wasn't exactly plausible at this point. Marvin knew too much to just let it go and return back to his life of complacency with Mark. He wanted adventure, and Anti could most definitely provide what he'd been yearning for. At the very least he could satisfy Marvin's need for intimacy that wasn't overly soft and gentle. Anti looked as if he were into some pretty kinky things, just from the piercings and the bifurcated tongue. He wondered how something like that would feel against his skin, or how sharp Anti's nails really were. Could they break the skin and make him bleed? Would they leave scars? It was all so exciting to imagine, and Marvin couldn't turn away from such an exhilarating future any longer. He wanted to explore every avenue he had when it came to Anti. Mark was simply an afterthought to him now.

Anti lowered his violin and bow, unsure how he should react to seeing Marvin so close to him. He was actually looking at Anti, noticing his existence for once. He'd imagined what this moment would feel like at least a million times, but it couldn't compare to reality at all. Anti's heart was pounding like a drum, anxiety churning in his belly. He couldn't interpret Marvin's gaze, and it made him feel uneasy. Was he disgusted by Anti's appearance? Or Maybe he didn't expect to see him playing such a graceful instrument like the violin. Anti doesn't put out that kind of vibe, and he knows how other people see him. But to have that look coming from Marvin of all people cut him deeper than any blade ever had.

"I'm sorry if my song was a disturbance," Anti murmured, voice deep and rough. "I never did learn how to properly play."

"No, no, It was lovely," Marvin quickly responded, trying to hide the way his body shook from Anti's voice. "I-I just didn't expect to hear such a beautiful melody at this time of night."

Anti felt his lips curl up into a smile at the subtle compliment. Marvin's voice was so soft and gorgeous, vastly contrasting to his own that made it sound like Anti was forever trapped in that half-awake state. Marvin licked his lips, taking a step forward. He wondered what he'd sound like during sex. How that voice would feel as it caressed the shell of his ear. The thought was incredibly intoxicating. Perhaps a bit too intoxicating.

The magician took another step forward, and Anti could virtually feel his blue gaze trailing up the lines of his legs, hips and torso. Only the faintest blush appeared on the cheeks of the sword swallower at how Marvin viewed him now.

"I've come to ask you a question," Marvin whispered, taking another deliberate step towards the other man. "But I need you to promise me, even if the answer is no, that you'll allow me to imagine that it was you, just for tonight."

Anti had no idea how to even begin to respond to this. Marvin was like a determined firefly in the thicket of the dark woods. He was too bright and delicate for the world of freaks, and yet he still came, and apparently, he came for Anti. The sword swallower balled up his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands as he waited for the other to speak. The silence between the two as they stared at each other was painful, and whatever power was holding Marvin's words hostage also held Anti's own tongue. He settled on nodding, silently granting the magician's request.

Marvin exhaled at the promise, and he took one more measured movement through the thick grass to close the distance between them. Marvin was close enough to pick up the scent of Anti's aftershave. He could see how the tattoos blended effortlessly into the pale skin of his arms, and how his eyes were a dazzling shade of green.

"The letter," Marvin began. "Are you my shadow behind the blade?"

It was hard for Anti to imagine that Marvin would ever figure out that it was him. He assumed that if he was ever discovered that it would have been many years from now. Perhaps he and Damien would be married, with the circus a vague memory in their aging minds. Occasionally, Anti might pause to imagine a different life, running his hands through Marvin's long, silver hair, and laughing at a joke only they understood. But this was moving at a speed that his tattered soul could barely take, and although it frightened him, he needed and wanted to confess.

"Yes," he murmured, unsure how Marvin would react to hearing this revelation. Anti was still a freak at the end of the day, and nothing, not even the love of someone like Marvin, would ever change that.

"Why me? You have such a wonderful partner, and yet you long for my touch?" Marvin whispered, catching Anti a bit off guard. He expected to hear disgust in Marvin's voice, but instead, he heard intrigue.

Anti chewed his bottom lip, lowering his gaze to the ground. How exactly could he explain to Marvin how he felt? He couldn't just come out and say that he was practically obsessed with Marvin. That wouldn't get him anywhere he wanted to be.

"I love Damien, but he's not like you. No one is quite like you, Marvin."