Ancient Wounds Pt3
Previous Parts Previous Parts >, 1, 2,
---------<3
“ The girl at the bar was looking at you tonight,” I chuckled taking your hand in mine as we wandered along the darkened city streets along the empty road, following the warm breeze as it danced through the ascending path lit way into the distance by the firefly appearance of lamps. You wore my shirt, as was customary for you to have done . I had always taken a quiet comfort in that fact, as if by that silent knowledge it may have held you as mine, as if my scent on those garments marked you as your tattoo did-as if that fact alone made you for me.
You smiled and kissed me deeply as we continued home to our leisure , wherein those confines, by the smile you wore indicated, any acts of unbridled passion may follow.
“I know,” you grinned in reply, a carefree air about your now warmed visage “only ever are these eyes for you, my Lord” I knew this to be the truth and smiled , for I knew that you could not lie to me-it was never in your power to do so, and I would never take it upon myself to take advantage of that fact. Your eyes were only ever for me, and had been since the faithful moment I beckoned you to me as my companion.
We had shared prey that night, which I found to be a new and wonderful fancy of yours. There was something about the way those eyes of yours flickered and the light behind them that captured something within me. Something in the way your hands glided across the darkened throat of the young man who came to your call seemed to make me pull away in awe.
I had spent almost the entire act of it staring into you, watching you feed upon the youth so frenzied, so impassioned and tender in your kill. The eroticism of your pearl white fangs across his perfectly tanned skin, watching you pin his body against his and moan through the whimpers of his drunken struggle. It was not until you had finished the deed that you turned to kiss away the young man’s redness on my lips I had spilt, and with it I caught fire. You were beautiful and I was under your spell, I would have given you anything you desired.
“I have no want to be jealous then, my love?” I mocked playfully placing a small kiss upon your neck as we found ourselves in the main hall of our recluse residence. I took you by the wrist and into my arms bathing in the perfection of you, and with satisfaction and contentment, I kissed you again.
As your lips grazed mine and dared to part I felt the roughness of your hands run softly down my spine, causing a shiver I could not cage. My tongue begged entrance of which you wantonly granted, meeting with yours graciously as you fought for dominance over my own at this meeting of lips. Hands buried in your hair, gently yet firmly tilting your kiss to mine you held the strength to have claimed all my senses, when before I knew we were standing as if outside of time locked in a burning and lustful kiss.
It was moments like this one I lived for, for within your kiss I found the missing pieces of myself, for they were mirrored in you.
I remember my very first kiss, it seems such a memoir now, but I digress…
…….
It was the late spring of my fifthteenth year, and I found myself no longer a young boy but stepping into the uncertain shadow of a young man. It was around this time that it had twigged to me that in some sense, I was not as other boys-as to why this was I had no inkling. Save perhaps one.
In my now growing town there was a budding young girl of similar age, whom all the boys would fawn over and wait smitten at her window at dusk.
She was the daughter of the town’s preacher and her name was Emilia, the most beautiful girl in the whole of the town. I however, did not wait like a cat to sparrow at her window for her, no. I stood in anticipation under that ledge with Dyre, (now an apprentice blacksmith under his father, and very heavy set may I remark-who like so many adored Emilia), for the fragile chance to gaze upon Elias, her twin brother.
It was true, I was smitten by him, he was training holy man like his father-but bitterly more wealthy and higher in class than I. This mattered not to me however, for surely if Dyre held a chance with Emilia I could do the same with Elias? I believe my innocence blinded me to the staggering complications involved in that self-posed question.
His eyes were a misty grey, which had first met mine in the aisle of our local chapel one Sunday, (though mother had protested, my father willed it I be brought into the eyes of God at least once a month) which put knots to my stomach at their wandering glances from his prayer book. The auburn haired youth fascinated me, though at the time he scarcely knew my name.
One early summer day not long thereafter I had chanced upon, by good fortune, the information that Elias would be passing through the fields which I worked in on the journey to fetch his sister from her bible study. As if by even greater luck Dyre had informed me (though my motives he was blind to) that Emilia’s studies were running a few hours late-and her brother had yet to be informed of this.
I was thrown into turmoil by this very knowledge, that a good four hours before the event I took it upon myself to dress in my cleanest and comb my now lengthy dark hair to unnatural neatness. My mother and father noticed my unusual eagerness in my appearance and put it down to ‘new interests’, which was far more true than they could have fathomed. So I waited anxious in the breezy open space of my field that afternoon, the creak of the far sided gate making me jump at the wonder if it was he.
Finally, one large swing of the gate produced the object of my affection, and I felt like I would not be able to breath through the tightness that gripped my chest and my throat. His hair was neatly tied back from his eyes which looked at me as he passed through the grass then toward me.
“Elias,” I spoke uncertainly, my newly broken voice shaking a little “I was told to inform you that your sister will be in her studies for longer than as usual, by some hours in the least”
He locked eyes upon me and stared in confusion for a moment before shrugging the remark off.
“Thank you Ville” he replied simply, I fluttered at the sound of my name spoken in his sweet voice.
“Where do you intend to go now that you have come into stolen time?” I blushed slightly as he listened intently “if it is not so bold that I ask, that is”
“No not at all,” he sighed and glanced around him into endless country bordered by the spatter of undergrowth, giving me a smile that made me feel like my knees would give way “would you mind if I could spend such time with you? If I go into town father will only put me to work” we laughed slightly at this.
“N-not at all,” I looked at the grass beneath me sheepishly afraid he’d notice the flush of rose creeping upon my pale cheeks.
We sat in the shade of a young sapling one side of the field, talking amongst ourselves far easier than before and laughing on accounts of previous folly each imparted to the other. The way his lips curled in grin made butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Once the afternoon had turned early eve, we reclined and lay beside each other. I was so delighted he favoured me, and that our undeniable difference in status and money had not made him cold to me.
“Do you delight in being here everyday, Ville?” He laughed sweeping some stray red hair from his eyes.
“Yes, very much so. It is peaceful and that I find most agreeable indeed. I do become very lonely however which I find most unfortunate, ” I sighed almost regretfully, for it was true “but such company is greatly welcomed” Elias frowned and sat up on the heels of his hands looking down at me. I sat up to meet him.
“I have to take my leave, or I will be reprimanded for being late to my sister,” he bit his lower lip. I could not help my actions beyond this point in time. For a moment we stared at one another, until the silence of the fields detailed with the waking of night birds was broken as I tore through my resilience and novicely met his lips with my own.
It was but a few moments long but to me a bloom of feelings I had never experienced before, which was abruptly ended when he pulled away too swift for comfort. He said nothing but instead stared at me with the appearance of shock in his eyes and distaste on the lips that I had just tasted. I knew he was degusted by me, even somewhat now afraid. He jumped to his feet and was gone from me before I could collect my own feelings or reach out to touch him in desperate apology.
In the abrupt and cruel rejection, all I could do was sit and curl up under the tree in the cold of the night. I was a proud young boy, but I felt no control but only shame as I felt my visage slowly crumple as I burst into silent tears. The day had been very much lost, and I slunk back to the poverty of my house in fear of what I had set myself in line to receive, both from Elias and what I was certain his father would say on the matter. It became clear to me, not long after the devastating blow to my confidence, that I was a lover of boys- which made myself very deeply ashamed, and indeed frightened.
I had often heard my father speak of what people did to young men like myself, which brought me to tears in the realization that my fate would undoubtedly rest alongside them…in the cruelty of a noose and the cold of the Oulu river bed. To add insult to injury, my best friend Dyre has caught wind of the situation from Elias himself, and either been banned from ever seeing me again-or the far more likely option that he was too, very much disgusted by me to be in my presence ever again.
In the short miserable weeks that followed Elias did not again come to my field, and would make special effort not to look upon me during mass but take to removing himself form his usual post in the third pew in avoidance of me. Furthermore, but to my great relief, he had good enough grace not tell his father.
I knew this was the case, for if things had conducted themselves otherwise I would have been beaten severely where I stood and taken to the gallows before I could formulate a disagreement. This fear was further impounded upon my young mind by the passage his father would recite to the young men on frequent occasion, in which Leviticus quoted “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination." For this reason alone, I was certain that if indeed there was a Hell, it would be waiting for me on my deathbed. This I feared far more than any beating or hanging. It is due entirely to those course of morose events that I look back upon my first kiss, with very bitter distaste.
-----<3
Thankies for reading,this one took me a while ^_^ meheh. Comments are hearted more than oveltineexxx
---------<3
“ The girl at the bar was looking at you tonight,” I chuckled taking your hand in mine as we wandered along the darkened city streets along the empty road, following the warm breeze as it danced through the ascending path lit way into the distance by the firefly appearance of lamps. You wore my shirt, as was customary for you to have done . I had always taken a quiet comfort in that fact, as if by that silent knowledge it may have held you as mine, as if my scent on those garments marked you as your tattoo did-as if that fact alone made you for me.
You smiled and kissed me deeply as we continued home to our leisure , wherein those confines, by the smile you wore indicated, any acts of unbridled passion may follow.
“I know,” you grinned in reply, a carefree air about your now warmed visage “only ever are these eyes for you, my Lord” I knew this to be the truth and smiled , for I knew that you could not lie to me-it was never in your power to do so, and I would never take it upon myself to take advantage of that fact. Your eyes were only ever for me, and had been since the faithful moment I beckoned you to me as my companion.
We had shared prey that night, which I found to be a new and wonderful fancy of yours. There was something about the way those eyes of yours flickered and the light behind them that captured something within me. Something in the way your hands glided across the darkened throat of the young man who came to your call seemed to make me pull away in awe.
I had spent almost the entire act of it staring into you, watching you feed upon the youth so frenzied, so impassioned and tender in your kill. The eroticism of your pearl white fangs across his perfectly tanned skin, watching you pin his body against his and moan through the whimpers of his drunken struggle. It was not until you had finished the deed that you turned to kiss away the young man’s redness on my lips I had spilt, and with it I caught fire. You were beautiful and I was under your spell, I would have given you anything you desired.
“I have no want to be jealous then, my love?” I mocked playfully placing a small kiss upon your neck as we found ourselves in the main hall of our recluse residence. I took you by the wrist and into my arms bathing in the perfection of you, and with satisfaction and contentment, I kissed you again.
As your lips grazed mine and dared to part I felt the roughness of your hands run softly down my spine, causing a shiver I could not cage. My tongue begged entrance of which you wantonly granted, meeting with yours graciously as you fought for dominance over my own at this meeting of lips. Hands buried in your hair, gently yet firmly tilting your kiss to mine you held the strength to have claimed all my senses, when before I knew we were standing as if outside of time locked in a burning and lustful kiss.
It was moments like this one I lived for, for within your kiss I found the missing pieces of myself, for they were mirrored in you.
I remember my very first kiss, it seems such a memoir now, but I digress…
…….
It was the late spring of my fifthteenth year, and I found myself no longer a young boy but stepping into the uncertain shadow of a young man. It was around this time that it had twigged to me that in some sense, I was not as other boys-as to why this was I had no inkling. Save perhaps one.
In my now growing town there was a budding young girl of similar age, whom all the boys would fawn over and wait smitten at her window at dusk.
She was the daughter of the town’s preacher and her name was Emilia, the most beautiful girl in the whole of the town. I however, did not wait like a cat to sparrow at her window for her, no. I stood in anticipation under that ledge with Dyre, (now an apprentice blacksmith under his father, and very heavy set may I remark-who like so many adored Emilia), for the fragile chance to gaze upon Elias, her twin brother.
It was true, I was smitten by him, he was training holy man like his father-but bitterly more wealthy and higher in class than I. This mattered not to me however, for surely if Dyre held a chance with Emilia I could do the same with Elias? I believe my innocence blinded me to the staggering complications involved in that self-posed question.
His eyes were a misty grey, which had first met mine in the aisle of our local chapel one Sunday, (though mother had protested, my father willed it I be brought into the eyes of God at least once a month) which put knots to my stomach at their wandering glances from his prayer book. The auburn haired youth fascinated me, though at the time he scarcely knew my name.
One early summer day not long thereafter I had chanced upon, by good fortune, the information that Elias would be passing through the fields which I worked in on the journey to fetch his sister from her bible study. As if by even greater luck Dyre had informed me (though my motives he was blind to) that Emilia’s studies were running a few hours late-and her brother had yet to be informed of this.
I was thrown into turmoil by this very knowledge, that a good four hours before the event I took it upon myself to dress in my cleanest and comb my now lengthy dark hair to unnatural neatness. My mother and father noticed my unusual eagerness in my appearance and put it down to ‘new interests’, which was far more true than they could have fathomed. So I waited anxious in the breezy open space of my field that afternoon, the creak of the far sided gate making me jump at the wonder if it was he.
Finally, one large swing of the gate produced the object of my affection, and I felt like I would not be able to breath through the tightness that gripped my chest and my throat. His hair was neatly tied back from his eyes which looked at me as he passed through the grass then toward me.
“Elias,” I spoke uncertainly, my newly broken voice shaking a little “I was told to inform you that your sister will be in her studies for longer than as usual, by some hours in the least”
He locked eyes upon me and stared in confusion for a moment before shrugging the remark off.
“Thank you Ville” he replied simply, I fluttered at the sound of my name spoken in his sweet voice.
“Where do you intend to go now that you have come into stolen time?” I blushed slightly as he listened intently “if it is not so bold that I ask, that is”
“No not at all,” he sighed and glanced around him into endless country bordered by the spatter of undergrowth, giving me a smile that made me feel like my knees would give way “would you mind if I could spend such time with you? If I go into town father will only put me to work” we laughed slightly at this.
“N-not at all,” I looked at the grass beneath me sheepishly afraid he’d notice the flush of rose creeping upon my pale cheeks.
We sat in the shade of a young sapling one side of the field, talking amongst ourselves far easier than before and laughing on accounts of previous folly each imparted to the other. The way his lips curled in grin made butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Once the afternoon had turned early eve, we reclined and lay beside each other. I was so delighted he favoured me, and that our undeniable difference in status and money had not made him cold to me.
“Do you delight in being here everyday, Ville?” He laughed sweeping some stray red hair from his eyes.
“Yes, very much so. It is peaceful and that I find most agreeable indeed. I do become very lonely however which I find most unfortunate, ” I sighed almost regretfully, for it was true “but such company is greatly welcomed” Elias frowned and sat up on the heels of his hands looking down at me. I sat up to meet him.
“I have to take my leave, or I will be reprimanded for being late to my sister,” he bit his lower lip. I could not help my actions beyond this point in time. For a moment we stared at one another, until the silence of the fields detailed with the waking of night birds was broken as I tore through my resilience and novicely met his lips with my own.
It was but a few moments long but to me a bloom of feelings I had never experienced before, which was abruptly ended when he pulled away too swift for comfort. He said nothing but instead stared at me with the appearance of shock in his eyes and distaste on the lips that I had just tasted. I knew he was degusted by me, even somewhat now afraid. He jumped to his feet and was gone from me before I could collect my own feelings or reach out to touch him in desperate apology.
In the abrupt and cruel rejection, all I could do was sit and curl up under the tree in the cold of the night. I was a proud young boy, but I felt no control but only shame as I felt my visage slowly crumple as I burst into silent tears. The day had been very much lost, and I slunk back to the poverty of my house in fear of what I had set myself in line to receive, both from Elias and what I was certain his father would say on the matter. It became clear to me, not long after the devastating blow to my confidence, that I was a lover of boys- which made myself very deeply ashamed, and indeed frightened.
I had often heard my father speak of what people did to young men like myself, which brought me to tears in the realization that my fate would undoubtedly rest alongside them…in the cruelty of a noose and the cold of the Oulu river bed. To add insult to injury, my best friend Dyre has caught wind of the situation from Elias himself, and either been banned from ever seeing me again-or the far more likely option that he was too, very much disgusted by me to be in my presence ever again.
In the short miserable weeks that followed Elias did not again come to my field, and would make special effort not to look upon me during mass but take to removing himself form his usual post in the third pew in avoidance of me. Furthermore, but to my great relief, he had good enough grace not tell his father.
I knew this was the case, for if things had conducted themselves otherwise I would have been beaten severely where I stood and taken to the gallows before I could formulate a disagreement. This fear was further impounded upon my young mind by the passage his father would recite to the young men on frequent occasion, in which Leviticus quoted “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination." For this reason alone, I was certain that if indeed there was a Hell, it would be waiting for me on my deathbed. This I feared far more than any beating or hanging. It is due entirely to those course of morose events that I look back upon my first kiss, with very bitter distaste.
-----<3
Thankies for reading,this one took me a while ^_^ meheh. Comments are hearted more than oveltineexxx