Yesterday, Anthony had come to me with something so passionate and heartwarming that I still can't get it out of my head. The feelings that I've felt for him are soaring into my chest. It's early morning on my day off and I can't bring myself to get out of bed. I'm looking over Anthony's shoulder at the door, the landing area growing dark again as our morning routine begins. I can feel his arms tighten around my sides, his face buried against my chest as I burn up across my face. The darkness in the landing is ominous and it makes my breathing stop as the mysterious shadow makes its way across the landing to my door. I can feel the air thicken as I feel panic rise in my chest. Something feels different today. As the shadow approaches the door, it hesitates, the normal thing would be for it to fade away, almost disappearing in the doorway, but instead I see this shadow stepping across the threshold. The odd discoloration is set off by the light that is coming from the window behind me. I can hear my own heart beating wildly as the outline moves closer, begrudgingly coming within a few feet of the bed. I feel the need to run, to escape far away, but I can feel the grip that Anthony has on my back and it has sweat running down my face. 

I can't leave him.

As I slide my hand under the blanket, I close my eyes, pulling the blanket over us like a shield. I don't feel anything, but I can hear this rumbling sound. It's almost like an earthquake, only affecting my room as I focus to keep my breath regular. I feel Anthony stirring against my chest and his sleepy eyes look up at me, a soft smile on his face as he pulls the blankets down to an empty room, the tension gone as if it were never there. 

"Goodmorning, Dante. How d'you sleep?"

"Okay." The word hardly brushes past my lips before he is pulling me up into a hug. He runs downstairs ahead of me, my heart still racing as I follow, trudging down the steps in a stupor, my eyes never leaving the open door of the shadow room. As I come downstairs, I find him starting the coffee pot, his face in a mask of sleep as he smiles at me, holding his hand out, "Will you walk with me, I want to talk to you." I follow him onto the patio as he sits on the reclined outside chair, his dark hair scattered around his face as he pulls me into his lap. It's soothing to me to have such an affectionate gesture, much more from him as he hugs me close, "I want you to meet my family." The way those words came out made me feel as if I could disappear. There's so much emotion in his voice that I can't determine what he's actually feeling. I nod, curling up against his shoulder as he rubs my arm. We've never spoken about his family and I've never seen him with them. The sun is creeping across the patio as I feel myself dozing off in it's warmth. 

I wake up a little bit later to find that I'm alone and as I move through the house, it's clear that I'm alone as I find his note on the counter.

Went to get food, will be back soon. 

I toss the note in the bin and gaze around the room at the walls, wishing that this house would give me some answers to the confusion and the relationship between us. "I love him." I said it aloud, as if sharing my secret with the house, lifting the weight off of my shoulders as nerves bubbled in my side. Meeting his family must mean that I'm important. It's been so long and he hasn't even mentioned them.

As I pour myself a cup of coffee, I hear the doorbell ring. Did he forget his key? I walk across the entryway, seeing a shadow behind the door as I recognize almost immediately, just by his outline, who it is. I slowly creep down to the floor, seeing his face press against the window of the door as he peers in. There's a ring again followed by the savage rapping of his knuckles across the wood. My back is now tucked against the door, my feet pulled up and out of sight as I pray that the door is locked. I tilt my head to see that it is unlocked, my heart rapping at my throat just as hard as his hand is beating against the door now. I carefully reach up and slowly turn the lock, keeping him outside as I hear him cuss, walking away from the door. I breathe out quickly, air sucking my lungs empty as I feel the tears welling up. It's been so long since I've cried. I'm so happy here. Why did he have to show up? Why does he have to follow me?

As I let the tears fall, I hear a jostling at the back of the house and fear fills my body as the soft sound of one of the double doors slides over the floor. I want to run, but I feel frozen in fear. I will myself to move, but every muscle in my body feels weak and useless. I pull the lock on the door and slide myself onto the porch, easing the door closed just as I see him peer around the corner. "Danteee. I know you're in here. It's taken me a long time to find you, but I have. Now come out and play." His dark eyes shift to the door as I hear the click of the tumbler closing and I bolt up, running barefoot down the path as I hear his sneakers hitting the ground, the anger in his voice calling after me to stop as I run harder. There's no way I can outrun him. I've never been athletic. My lungs burn and my chest hurts as I turn into the trees, my breathing ragged as I hope the forest will stop him. Trees are going by in a blur, my eyes unable to focus as I stumble over fallen trees and piles of dirt. I take myself deeper into the forest with each clumsy turn and each frightened burst of energy. I keep running long after his footsteps disappear. I look in all directions, realizing that I'm lost myself as I panic. Tears stream down my face as I fall to my knees, terror clenching my body as I wonder how I'll make it home. Will he be there when I come back?

I stumble along, feeling exhausted as I hug my sides. I can't seem to keep myself moving anymore after walking for hours. I've tried to make it out, but each turn I take leads me only to more trees. I come to a stop in a clearing, taking my last few steps to a small abandoned camp setup. I fall back on the small cot that's opened under a tarp and the last I remember is the aches in my calves as I drifted into a fitful sleep. I turn over, hearing footsteps that freeze me to my spot. Is it possible that he found me? I dare not to peek out from behind the tarp as the crunch of leaves echoes in the clearing. I've been holding my breath as I beg for anyone else other than Kadence, my throat burning and my lungs tugging at my mouth in a desperate attempt to make me breathe. Things are being shuffled around and I hear a thud along with a sigh as I try not to tremble. "Where are you, Dante? Fuck. It's been hours since you been home. I can't be in that house without you." I hear his soft comment as I let out a heavy sigh out and gasp, "Anthony?!" The tears choke my voice and the tarp is yanked back as I relax, the stress and tension melting off of my shoulders and running down my back as I cover my face in embarrassment, but his excitement is overwhelming as he crushes me around my shoulders. "What are you doing out here? Where have you been? What happened?" His questions come out with concern and affection as his hand moves through my hair and I feel him tucking my head against his shoulder, picking me up with an arm beneath my bottom as my legs dangle at his sides. I can't bring myself to talk as he sets out walking, the chilly night air giving me goosebumps as I doze against his shoulder. I've never felt so exhausted and so embarrassed as he carries me like a child. I want him to put me down, but I know I won't be able to walk back alone.

As we sit in the kitchen, he puts on a pot of coffee, the blanket around my shoulders staving off the cold as his arms rest on my side, pulling me into him as I drop my head on his shoulder. I've begun to explain to him my story, the mistreatment of my parents, the bullying and terrorizing at school, and the hate I carry for everyone there. I've stopped talking, my nerves now coming back as I feel him soften at my side, "So what made you run?" 

The question that I could hear in the air was just what I had been avoiding, leaving every moment of that monster's influence on my life out of my explanation. I could feel Anthony's hand grip my shoulder and his lips press against the top of my head, reminding me how short I am as he hums that it is okay if I can't tell him, but the words just come running out, speeding through history as if it were nothing other than a rehearsed speech. The theft of my body, the violence, the kindness, the feeling of being property, the control, the fear and terror that gripped my throat and strangled me every day. I spent hours just telling him every scenario that I could remember. I don't even know when I stopped crying, but I remember when he pulled me even tighter, trying to stifle his own tears as I felt his body gently cave with each soft wave of sadness. I could feel his hands against my back as I finished with the hardest sentence I had purposefully avoided until the last moment, "- and throughout the entire time that he would stalk and control me, he raped me on a daily basis. I can't wash his touches away. I'm ruined. I can't escape him even after trying so hard. I belong to him."

There's nothing that I can feel anymore. I'm empty and I'm waiting for him to step away and leave me here. I'm waiting to be reclaimed by the person I hate most. Every thought in my head tells me that if that happens, I'll never be able to live again. I'll leave it all behind.

His arms draw back from around me as he stands, walking over to the counter and pouring a cup of coffee, sitting it in front of me. I've never felt so alone and empty. The spot he had been previously occupying is empty and barren, colder now without his warmth as he sits again, pulling me back to him. His face seems blank and his body stiff as he draws in a slow breath. 

"Don't ever leave my side and you'll never have to deal with him again." The tension in his jaw doesn't subside as he drinks on his own coffee, and without knowing why, I find myself asking in the smallest voice I own, "Anthony, what are we?" 

Red bubbles across his face as he glances over to me, attempting to figure out what I'm thinking. "What do you want us to be?"

I don't want to be the person who decides, but I shrug, "I don't know. I just want to know how you feel."

The long silence in the kitchen feels like a blanket of anxiety. Every second that passes by feels like I'm drowning in anticipation. 

"I love you . . . "

And suddenly, nothing else in my life mattered anymore.