Treasured

10)

Robin's P. O. V.

I will admit that when I heard a new boy was coming I was jealous. I made a promise to hate that boy as much as I loved the others. I wouldn't allow the new boy to steal my place.

My parents had found out about my tastes in men eight months before, when I was caught rolling in the hay with a stable boy. The stable boy of course lost his place, and my parents warned me of ever doing that again. But I was defiant and I was willful. They caught me in town one night with a baker boy who again, had two marks against him: one, that he was below my class, and two, that he was doing something illegal with me.

Within two days I was shipped off to Mr. Price's school. At first, I didn't know what to expect. But after two months, I had finally cracked and accepted that it was a safe and loving home to be in. Everyone loved everyone else equally and unconditionally even when we disagreed or had arguments. We always made up and we always made sure that our problems were resolved and forgotten.

The idea of hating Wren was firmly burned into my soul. But when I first saw him at dinner, I couldn't help but hate myself instead of him.

He was like a little bird that didn't know what to do. I couldn't help but notice the way he smiled with his whole body, not just with his lips.

His smile was blinding, and possibly brighter than the sun, and it lit up his eyes until they looked like stars.

Watching him lay in bed as ill as he was for four days was agony for me. He would burn, then freeze, only to burn again. His eyes were dull and listless with pain and fever, and his lips were cracked and dry.

He broke down after the doctor came, but nobody knew exactly why. Fletcher said it probably had to do with his leg somehow, and I had to agree.

But besides that time, he never indicated that he was uncomfortable, sad, or hurt other than his body's shaking, sweating, or general sickness. I was just glad I wasn't there to see him cry like Sal had. Sal had broken down in June's arms after he finally left, and he explained how horrible it had been to watch.

Thankfully, his fever finally broke. He was still weak and shaky, so the stronger boys had taken to carrying him everywhere. He was pale and much too thin, and his appetite was very small, which was worrisome.

It was our free hour before dinner that I found him in the gallery. He liked that room a lot for some reason. He was propped up on the sofa, casually studying the paintings he could see.

"Would you mind if I sat next you?" I inquired.

His hand shook as he wrote his reply.

Of course I wouldn't.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked.

My throat is stiff again, and I'm tired, but I'm alright.

My heart jumped in alarm. Was he getting sick again?

"Can I feel to see if you're feverish?" I ascertained.

He nodded, and I brushed my fingertips against his forehead. Thankfully, it was cool and pleasant to the touch.

"There's no sign of a fever. Do you want some tea for your throat?"

He hesitated, but nodded again, making me glad. I wanted to help him, and this was something I could definitely do.

At breakfast, he'd eaten a few bites of fruit and a bit of toast, but he needed more. I understood what it was like to have difficulties eating, but Wren's seemed to be complicated with his health.

I chose not to eat since it was one of the few things my parents couldn't control. But over time, I just hated doing it at all. It was a horrid habit, but Mr. Edward was helping me. It was hard work, but he was always there when I needed him. He always knew when I was about to relapse, and simply kept me close until the urge to vomit or starve myself was under better control.

His sweet kisses and loving touches gave me the courage I needed to face each day. He was firm, but he was fair, and I knew he had my best interest at heart.

I loved him utterly, and I didn't know what would happen if something broke us apart.

I loved the other boys as well, it was true. At first, I felt dirty and wrong for being unfaithful to them, but Mr. Edward soon set me straight.

"Robin," he had said, "You have the ability to love multiple people at once. That isn't disgusting or wrong, it's beautiful. To be able to spread that love to all of us is a rare, and precious gift."

The other boys loved each other as I did, and I soon felt comfortable with myself. June didn't like doing sexual things, but he was alright with kissing, hugging, or doing romantic things. Fletcher was a soft, gentle lover, who though in control, always made sure I was comfortable and pleasured. Branson was rough and heated, he threw me around and left marks on me, but I only felt aroused by his pure, undefiled dominance. Cedar was passionate and whimsical, and I found myself in odd places or positions when I was with him. Sal and I had a harder time since we were both bottoms, but he and I would sometimes play with each other if someone else was watching or telling us what to do. Orion...well, he was an odd duck. He was quite flamboyant and expressive, and didn't mind showing off to the world. He could dominate me and Sal, but instantly submitted to everyone else. He was quirky, but creative and fun.

Wren was obviously a bottom, but he seemed skittish and we didn't want to scare him, so we'd been reigning ourselves back for the most part. Fletch admitted he'd almost kissed him a number of times, but he managed to control himself.

"Here, it's honey and ginger, so it should feel good," I told Wren as I offered him a cup of warm tea.

He smiled in thanks, letting his eyes deepen to a purple hue, and took a tiny sip. He winced as he swallowed, but relaxed just after. The action of swallowing probably hurt, but I was glad that the honey was helping.

I didn't ask before I laid beside him, curling into his side and letting him decide what to do. If he wanted, he could push me off the cushions, or, he could cuddle back.

I felt his arm slip around me, and I sighed in contentment. He was bony and some of his edges were sharp, but they comforted me in a way. They proved he was still alive and fighting, and I was grateful for that. Knowing him, even for the short amount of time he was with us had impacted me greatly.

His shy smiles, kind heart, and silent bravery were things I'd never forget. He never complained about anything, never pitied himself, and never seemed to work situations for his own benefit. I had never respected someone as easily as when he refused opiates to ease the pain he was constantly in. Many people would have taken them to dull their senses, let alone their pain. But Wren rejected them without a moment's hesitation.

He was kind and generous too, and even though he was uncomfortable with physical touch, he was letting me stay. Maybe it was because he didn't view me as a threat, or maybe it was because he was tired from being sick and had no energy to expend, but in any case, I was actually snuggling with him.

"When I was little, I used to think that dandelion fuzz could grant wishes," I randomly said. "I used to wish on them all the time. I wanted true love, a home, and a family. I wanted to be brave and strong, and I wanted to make my father proud."

We laid in silence for a moment, before I added, "The last one is the only one I'm waiting for."

Wren combed a fragile hand through my hair, and somehow I could feel what he meant.

I'm sorry.

You're worth more than your father could fathom.

I'm here for you.

I smiled through the small tears that were gathering at the corners of my eyes. He gently brushed them away, his touch as light as a feather.

"Thanks, Wren," I murmured, tucking myself further into his arms.

For such a small boy, he had a huge heart. And absolutely perfect hugs. I knew I was falling for him fast. But seriously, who could resist?

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