Free to Feel [Temporarily (??) Discontinued]

Chapter 3

Heather gasped and stumbled away, feeling his heart shatter and his breath stop somewhere between his chest and his nose. He had totally forgotten how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything at all! The fact that his owner, his Mistress, the only free person who kept him happy and satisfied at all times would turn against him the worst way possible was hard to believe.

Maybe he wasn't supposed to believe that? Maybe he was just imagining things, thinking too much?! Or-or maybe he just misunderstood her, yeah, that could be the case as well... All of those were possible.

But her actually believing that slavery was wrong - impossible. She was always for it. Always. Surely she couldn't have changed her opinion, right?

Right?!

"What are you saying?" He whispered fearfully and when her eyes darted away he felt anger rise inside him. Yet that momentary fury was quickly replaced by a wave of horror, for he had just gotten mad on the free person. Slaves weren't supposed to be angry at all, they were lucky they were left alive when they should be fed to roaches and bugs instead! 

Her beautiful eyes were trained on him as she stood up and held her arms out for a hug, everything about her inviting him, no, begging him to rush into her embrace and let his worries all wash away. Yet the guy only flinched away from her touch, away from her body, away from everything he loved and craved. 

"What are you saying?" He repeated, this time a little louder. His unblinking gaze made the woman shiver and rub her arms, yet he didn't bow his head to admit defeat. Maybe this was the only time ever when he would be stubborn to her for real, not playfully. 

"I..." Mistress shook her head and sighed, exhaling so deeply that for a split moment it felt like his heart was about to break. Yet the slave gritted his teeth and stood still, as if a steel rod connected him to the floor. "I was wrong. Slavery isn't okay, I... Slavery is wrong and I admit it." 

Everything was quiet. Heather blinked and looked at his hands, seeing that they were shaking and quivering. Something stood in his throat, a clog of some sort, and his eyes began to feel itchy. 

"Pe-" His owner cut herself off as she reached out to him, her hazel eyes full of love and compassion and everything else. "Heather... Please. Please let me help you, let me make it better for you..." 

She was asking him. She. Was. Asking. Him. A slave. A free was asking a slave. To do something. Huh. What a joke. 

And then it all happened so fast and something churned inside the body of the guy, he turned away and just ran and ran and... There wasn't much where he could run, he was just barely aware of rushing into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. That's about the time his strength left him and he slid down on the floor, his back pressed to the door and sobs and whimpers and silent cries escaping his mouth and nose. 

No! No-no-no! How could she... How could she do that?! How could she turn away from his entire life and say that it's wrong?! No, no, she had no right to do that, she had no right to treat him like a free, she-she had no right to force him into sitting on chairs! 

Not if she loved him as much as she claimed, after all. 

Heather pulled his knees up to his chest and burrowed his face between them, still shaking. He wasn't able to cry now for some reason, maybe it was because he still didn't believe what he'd just heard. But he was so well aware that as soon as the reality sank in, the tears would begin. And once that happened, he would be helpless at the mercy of his owner.