AnK - Black Moon Rising

Black Moon Rising

By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to Yoshihara Rieko

Edited by: Ainzfern

Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze

Rating: Mature – NC -17ish

Parts: WIP – 9 of 25

Reviews are fuel.

xxx


Chapter 9 of 25 – Body Language (Post OVA)

~~~BMR~~~


Dutifully the dealer followed the silken hem of Raoul’s robe, eyes casting about in veiled curiosity at the warm autumnal hues of plush carpeting, richly appointed furnishings and strategically placed artwork of differing eras, styles and textural grace, a veritable feast for the eyes.

Esoteric, warm perhaps even sensual, in no way staid, the red-head thought abstractedly, nervously adjusting his bang and beginning to feel self-conscious and definitively out of place.

This was Raoul’s realm and danger lurked in each well appointed, luxuriant corner such as the one they took now, the faint sounds of flowing water becoming more resonant with each step down the dimly lit corridor.

Fuck he needed a cigarette. Where was Deek?

Raoul abruptly turned to face the ex-Furniture as though hearing his thoughts.

Emerald eyes appraised Katze slowly from head to toe then back again before turning and continuing down the darkened hall, pointing casually just beyond what appeared to be an alcove.

“The facilities; make use of them.”

Doubly self conscious now because of the commanding tone, Katze furtively gazed at his reflection when he passed one of the numerous mirrors that festooned the hall.

Even at a glance, he could see he looked like shit. No wonder, Iason had been inquisitive as to his current state of health. Katze knew full well that Iason saw him as nothing more than an investment. One the Blondie did not wish to become a liability and had said as much.

The dealer sighed and instinctively passed a hand through his hair, suddenly exceedingly aware of the scar running down his jaw line.

“Thank you, Master Am, for your thoughtfulness. I will not be staying.”

The silence was palpable as the Elite turned to face the darkly clad male currently avoiding his gaze.

Katze lowered his eyes. Raoul’s thinned lips spoke volumes, but he had to go on.

“I have urgent business on behalf of his Excellency that requires my immediate presence in Midas.”

A lie to be sure, but not one easily disproved. An out from what Katze suspected was going to be a long night with an inevitable end, further complicating his life.

Unfortunately, Katze thought while a swirling maelstrom of green bore down on him with inhuman speed, hindsight was twenty-twenty. The pincer like grip on his right wrist, as he was hauled unceremoniously through the doors of said facilities, soon dispelled any further thoughts of subterfuge or an easy escape.

“Remove your clothing or I will.” Raoul hissed as he slung the dealer into the room. “Do not defy me further, Katze.”

~~~BMR~~~


Kato pursed his lips, unsure of what to do. The Master had not returned, still in Eos by all accounts. The meal was ruined of course and it was unlikely he would have eaten it anyway.

Huffing softly, he scanned the private sanctum of his Boss and determined to sort his bedroom and toiletries. True, there was a schedule to these things, but he knew, whenever he came in the first thing on the dealer’s agenda would be a bath, then a check in with his number one, Donovan, perhaps a drink while he picked at the delicacies well prepared and tested by Kato himself.

Katze had said it was a precautionary measure, but the elderly servant knew better.

He rubbed his belly in delight and eyed the covered tray on the desk with longing. Since his indenture he had managed to gain a few pounds, feasting on delights he could only have imagined previously. Food of the Gods as the kitchen staff had termed it.

He knew better, so much better, he thought as he touched the panel that revealed the bedroom’s portal in aid of his Master’s comfort. It was the least he could do.

A gentle smile touched the careworn face as he changed the bed clothing, selecting the deep green silk sheets that the Master favored, ignoring the tell tale signs of intimacy with a roguish smile. Efficiently he pooled the used sheets at the foot of the large, luxurious bed.

His life was owed to the delicate featured man, with a will of steel who had broken rules to save him, providing care for a life not valued by any in the guise of business. He had lucked out in his Master, who had proven silent but generous to a fault.

Kato sighed and carefully, reverently removed the rumpled sheets, folding them and placing them by the bathroom door. It was next.

Many a time they had conversed in this space. Instructions given, the scent of warm aromatic oils wafting gently in the steam filled room that would always be his Master’s respite from the taxing aspects of his day-to-day schedule.

The elder man looked about him proprietarily, neat as a pin. Then again, it always was; the only evidence of the Master’s presence within this private space, the faint aroma of his preferred scent.

Kato shook his head indulgently and retrieved the open bottle, something finally occurring to him about the peculiar habit of his Master who always forgot to cap his cologne after use.

So often had this oversight occurred the sensual fragrance permeated every porous surface with Katze’s inner sanctum.

Kato smiled. The Master missed nothing. This was intentional. A self created oasis or as Donovan crudely but accurately put it, the Boss was pissing on his property.

In deference, he carefully returned the open bottle to its previous position and set about neatening the area and sorting essentials for efficiency’s sake. The Master would not have it otherwise.

~~~BMR~~~

Cold.

It was all that the Black Market dealer felt, standing naked and bereft of dignity, his clothing pooled about his feet while Raoul circled him slowly with a curiously bemused expression.

“Sit.” The Elite commanded, pointing to the chaise nearest the sunken bath. The red-head bent to retrieve his clothing.

“Leave them. Sit.”

How many times, had he issued the same order to newly acquired Pets in the service of his then Master? How many times had he done the same to those in his current service?

Dignity wasn’t optional for those in servitude. He did as he was told, if only for expediency’s sake.

Pale amber eyes, well hidden beneath thick sooty lashes, watched in fascination the graceful efficient movements of the Elite as he examined and poured a variety of powders in a clear vial, concocting a blend that finally met with his approval before then sprinkling the now azure blue mixture into the running bath.

Katze blinked, suddenly realizing Raoul’s intent.

Surreptitiously he glanced at the Elite who seemed pre-occupied with a bottle of dark viscous liquid. Katze stretched and took a quick sniff of an armpit. He didn’t smell. At least that was something. He couldn’t think why that should matter, but it did.

“Get in the bath, Katze.”

The red-head glared daggers at the broad silk swathed back, unaware he was being observed through the reflective surface of the far wall.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, little Mongrel.”

Katze sighed aloud in resignation and glanced at the dark blue water with suspicion. It did have a pleasing scent though, he thought, tentatively sticking a toe in and testing the temperature before fully easing his tired body into the pulsing stream of soothing liquid.

He might as well enjoy it. The dealer stretched languidly and closed his eyes, avoiding the pensive gaze of the green clad individual, now elegantly seated on the chaise.

“How did you acquire those bruises?” the Elite pointed casually at the dealer’s chest. “I saw no evidence of them yesterday.”

One amber eye opened lazily, uncaring at the moment that the male in question could just as easily drown him out of spite for not answering promptly. His body had grown unaccountably leaden. His mind began to wander and all pretense of deference faded in his sleepy reply.

“Does it truly matter, Master Am?”

The deep murmured reply came from a seemingly great distance and required no answer, or so the soft indulgent chuckle that followed implied. Something warm touched his face. Lazily Katze batted at the feather light yet persistent touch.

All sentient thought faded and the hard protective carapace worn by the dealer gave way to the blissful soothing warmth that enveloped his tired body.


~~~BMR~~~


It was tepid, slick and bitter to his tongue.

Katze convulsively spat the foul tasting liquid into the lukewarm water and wiped his mouth. He sat up abruptly and looked about him, trying to get his bearings. He must have fallen asleep. His head swam as he tried to recall what had transpired. More importantly where was Raoul?

The red-head gritted his teeth, eyes growing suddenly wide. No pain.

“What in hell?”

Instinctively he felt his face. It was sticky and cold. He wiped at the slick unguent on his cheek and glared at the dark tincture on his fingers in consternation; the same fingers previously swollen and bruised.

He flexed them tentatively.

No pain anywhere.

Frightened, the red-head slowly stood and regarded his reflection properly in the full length mirror opposite. No bruising either, from what he could see, just gooseflesh as his rapidly cooling body began to shiver.

Where the fuck was his clothing and where in hell was Sir Am? Why had the Elite allowed him to sleep unhindered?

Amber slits looked about suspiciously finally landing on the chaise where a robe had been placed the color of a burnished sunset. Aggravated beyond measure, the dealer hurriedly splashed his face and stepped out of the tub, roughly toweled himself dry and glared at the mirror. It was probably a two way.

“Manipulative Bastard,” the red-head murmured and eyed the strategically placed toiletries upon the vanity, undoubted meant for his use. His lips quirked at the sheer perversity of the predicament he found himself in as his eyes fell upon the robe.

He fingered the gossamer thin material appreciatively. It was positively decadent in its silky smoothness and what was more, the damn thing left nothing to the imagination.

“Pervert.”

Adjusting the rather long sleeves that threatened to envelope his lithe yet well muscled form, the dealer regarded his reflection.

It did suit his coloring and cast a honeyed hue to his unusually pale skin.

There was always a price for the smallest of luxuries he thought, steeling himself while carefully tucked the billowing floor length sleeves and tightened the sash, knotting it twice about his lean waist before heading for the door.

“Not this time if I can help it, Raoul,” he whispered to the close sepulchral darkness, unaware he had spoken the Elite’s given name aloud as he made his way down the dim, meandering hallway toward the amber light seeping from beneath closed doors at the end of the corridor.

Eyes accustomed to the dark narrowed on the light source briefly, while long pale fingers continued to feel along the cool smooth walls for the concave dip he knew was there, marking the entrance to the alcove and the sound of running water.

Despite a strong feeling of foreboding, curiosity got the better of the dealer as he stealthily crept forward on silent feet, determined to find the source of the sound. Too late, he inadvertently tripped what he now knew had to have been a motion sensitive beam beyond the visual cortex which flooded the area with soft ambient light.

Katze froze mid curse, golden eyes entirely transfixed as a foreboding tremor shot through his body.

Oh, he had found the source of the gentle soothing burble. His ears had not deceived him, but perhaps his eyes were in the moment, but this was not a dream.

Beyond the water feature that gently spiraled heavenward in an iridescent plume of cascading light hung a portrait.

A Ruby dressed in alien regalia, seated upon an ornate chair of equally unknown origins. His stoic countenance gentled by atypically expressive yellow eyes and the most luxuriant of silken tresses thrown casually over one broad shoulder forming its own cascade, coiling gracefully to his lap.

“Exquisite.”

The word was out before Katze, could stifle it.

“He was that and brilliant. Well beyond his caste,” was the whisper soft response by the dealer’s cheek.

Surprised by the unusually somber tone and Raoul’s proximity, Katze turned toward the radiating warmth that was Raoul Am’s body in hopes it would quell the inexplicable chill the portrait’s existence instilled.

“Was, Master Am?”

Unguarded amber sought an answer to his query in the closed verdant pools currently studying the curve of his lips. Said dark green eyes continued their languid journey, taking in the occupant of the robe with prurient delight, entirely ignoring the question.

“Irrelevant.”

Self consciously the dealer’s face flushed and he lowered his gaze, as was appropriate under the circumstances. He knew that look well enough and would not fall pray to it again by encouraging it. At least that is what he told himself, ignoring the heating of his own flesh in response to that penetrating gaze.

The Elite turned sharply on his heels and waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the portrait, well pleased, Katze had received the message loud and clear as to the purpose of his presence there.

“Come. I intend to make use of you this evening.”

No. Dignity was never an option for those who in service.

The cold Katze had felt in his bones returned in a rush as his feet silently carried him forward into the deceptive warmth of the amber glow beyond the doors.

Damn but he needed a smoke. This just wasn’t his day or night for that matter.

~~~BMR~~~


Quietly at first, just beyond hearing, a familiar musical refrain graced the mongrel’s ears as he stood stock still in the doorway with bowed head and fumed privately. The Elite had opened his prize after all. What was meant to be a small secret joy, shared with nothing but the private space within his own bedroom, intentionally destroyed by a Blondie’s whim.

Katze privately seethed. Raoul was also intentionally ignoring him and had been for the last few minutes while he ate. Enough was enough. How long did he expect him to stand there? His stomach gurgled loudly, the gentle strains of an ancient instrument slowly rising.

“What do you wish of me, Master Am?”

Pale, livid amber darted in the direction of the rich deep snorted response.

“I would think that obvious, Katze. I intend to fuck you after this light and most delectable of repasts. I must say Deek has outdone himself this evening,” was the bored, matter-of-fact reply between sips of wine and a delicate dab of napkin to full lips.

The red-head’s nails dug deeper into his already sore palms.

“Be so good as to come in fully and close the doors behind you. No point standing vigil at the door looking affronted and virginal. I’ve dispensed with that.”

Narrowed amber slits briefly met surprisingly amused jewel toned orbs. He might have known. Raoul had been watching him all along in the antique mirror above the large imposing desk.

“A precautionary measure to be sure since you have a tendency to be,” Raoul waved his wineglass about casually as he sat back on the couch and weighed the rest of his sentence, “somewhat vocal and surprising lewd in your descriptive and imperative demands when reaching your peak.”

Green eyes surveyed the faint blush gracing the long elegant neck and beckoned the mongrel forward with a single digit. It was rather amusing how those sun-kissed eyes flashed defiantly before retreating coyly beneath ridiculously thick lashes.

“As I was saying before being glared at in that manner, though an excellent catalyst for my own culmination, I do not wish to cause undue alarm for my elderly Furniture, who has led a rather cloistered existence.”

Katze reddened at the implication and averted his gaze to the low table, unconsciously wetting his lips. He was hungry but he needed a smoke more than ever.

Raoul’s lips quirked knowingly, intrigued by the play of emotions upon that exquisitely formed face. Katze was dying to consume one of those cigarettes of his. The nervous twitch of long fingers within the pockets of the robe equally amused, while soft lips were licked repeatedly and even white teeth bit into the generous fleshy lower one.

God, he wanted him. Nothing would please the Elite more than to be buried to the hilt in that tight, slick channel of muscle, mindlessly thrusting as their damp skin made contact and the little mongrel moaned in pleasure and tightened in answer to his thick shaft plundering his depths.

The Blondie crossed his long limbs in an attempt to stave off the sudden rising tension within his lower body as best he could. Now if he could just do the same with the loud, rapid thrum of his heart in his ears as his mouth went dry.

He refilled his wine glass and swigged it.

Katze blinked at the inelegant sight, before dark-honey eyes narrowed in understanding.

Raoul was getting horny and was trying to maintain control of the urge - Pompous Ass, instead of having done with it. At least where he came from it would be over in a few minutes, without fear or favor.

Hard credit for services rendered.

He had watched this game played out often enough while monitoring existing clients with a taste for the unusual, fully enjoying the sensual skills of his workers.
.
“Come. Sit at my feet.”

Pulled from his musings by the sudden shift in Raoul’s tone of voice, the mongrel inclined his head and carefully approached the seated figure, hiding his own burgeoning interest while elegantly shifting the voluminous robe’s hem as he gracefully sat with eyes cast down.

Katze held his breath and awaited the Elite’s next prompt.

None came, just the feel of soft breath against his cheek, the scent of clean skin and warmed sandalwood as deft fingers carefully blindfolded him with the softest of cool silk.

Katze licked his lips nervously. “Master Am, what are you doing?”

A sigh of boredom, warm breath mere centimeters from his own lips, “I believe we’ve covered that.”

“With all due…”

Raoul tisked in feigned displeasure…”We’ve covered that too, little one, be patient.”

A gentle nip of censure to the mongrel’s lower lip while smooth, hot finger tips dipped beneath the robe and slid the filmy material from taut, trembling shoulders, sending a delicious tremor through the lithe male.

“You’ll find obedience is rewarded, Katze.”

The red-head hissed as strong teeth captured the soft skin of a lobe and wandering hands slowly meandered up velvety smooth well-muscled thighs, finally coming to rest suggestively at the apex of his sex, riffling the soft auburn curls found there.

“Yes, Master.”

Dear God, he could hear the pleading tone in his own voice and the Blondie hadn’t even gotten to the good part, yet.

Katze rolled his hips forward encouraging intimate contact, yet receiving none in answer to the unspoken request.

Perhaps he should have taken Guy up on his offer or some other male to scratch this irrepressible itch as his balls tightened and rose.

Anyone but Raoul Am he thought unconvincingly as his traitorous hands spanned broad shoulders whose muscles rippled obediently beneath his own touch. God damn it, he was on his back again. How in God’s name did the bastard manage to do this to him so easily, he thought, while traitorous limbs surrendered and coiled about the Elite’s waist, pulling the Blondie’s body closer to his own.


~~~BMR~~~


He felt followed.

Not that it was anything new, but today, today Guy felt hunted. Perhaps it was just guilt but the echoing footsteps, mirroring his down side street, didn’t help. What did was the feel of the laser dagger within his pocket, just in case.

Guy’s lighter flared as he stopped to light a needful smoke, grey eyes lazily darting back and forth checking the perimeter, eventually resting on shadowy movement.

As he suspected, he was being followed back to Bison’s newly acquired lair.

Two possible choices; a rival or one of Katze’s goons keeping an eye; the latter much preferred.

“Come out where I can see you.”

Silence.

A slow exhalation, as his bravado kicked in. “Don’t make me come to you. You won’t like it if I do.”

More silence, then a long suffering sigh from his immediate right.

“No question about it, you have a death wish.”

Guy spun.

“How’ve you survived this long?”

He had been wrong. The answering tired rumble came from in front of him. He spun in fright, caught by familiar large hands that pinned his shoulders to the wall.

“Why are you out here in enemy territory, without backing?”

Guy bristled as he looked up at the formidable figure dressed in black, not bothering to resist. He was just too tired.

Donovan’s voice lowered to a preternatural whisper, “Where’s your shadow Sid?”

Bison’s leader blanched, looking up into a surprising familiar expression of exasperation. Where had he seen that before?

“Well? He’s not in your hideout, which I might add, as far as holdups go, is a piece of shit. Anyone can breach its perimeter and remain undetected.”

“Fuck you, Asshole!”

Katze’s number one snickered and pinned the smaller male with hard muscular thighs against the cold, slick wall. “Told you, little boy, not interested. I’d rip you apart.”

“Yeah right, I’ve taken bigger than you.”

Guy regretted his jeering words instantly. Donovan’s face hardened menacingly as he learned forward and sniffed at Guy’s neck.

“You stink, little boy. I like my bed warmers clean.”

Defensive, not something Guy thought he would ever feel, but he did. Was that why Katze had rejected him earlier? His eyes narrowed, a malevolent curve graced his lips as he leered challengingly at the towering, thick set male.

“Whatever, Baldy, keep dreaming. We all don’t have the privilege of running water or a comfy existence. Some of us scrounge for a living, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Blank, hard blue eyes regarded the chestnut haired mongrel.

Guy grinned, true to form never knowing when to leave well enough alone. He was winning; the hard press of strong thighs eased off his.

“I’d imagine you’d be grateful for anything, considering you’d last about two minutes in the sack anyway.”

“That’s it!”

Excruciating pain, it was all Guy felt.

A fist connected with his jaw and air left his lungs in a rush as he was thrown against a parked vehicle and pinned by the minder’s greater body weight. Guy snarled in anger at being manhandled for the second time that day by the bodyguard.

The sound of a zipper’s slide and a guttural moan, punctuated by his jeans being roughly wrenched down about his ankles, made perfectly clear Donovan’s intent.

“You better pray I only last two minutes, little boy.”

Guy frantically squirmed just as a thick gloved finger roughly entered him, causing Bison’s leader to wince and plead.

“Please don’t, Donovan. Please, I’m sorry, not out here. Everyone’ll see. I have a rep you know?”

Guy’s plea was met with a lascivious moan and another thick digit’s intrusive prodding followed the first, scissoring the resistant channel of muscle.

“Oh yeah Baby, you’re gonna be a nice, tight fuck.”

Despite the roughness, it felt good. He heard the guard spit and knew why.

“Best I can do kid under the circs.”

Guy gritted his teeth and willed himself not to scream. He couldn’t lose face, not now, not ever. He had his self respect and it would not be denied by another’s hitched breathing, or the sharp pain of a hot, heavy appendage pounding his ass.

Tears welled behind tightly closed eyes. It would feel good soon. He just had to wait.

Just had to wait, he told himself while Donovan shifted behind him, pulling his naked hips back to meet his girth with a muffled oath in praise of Jupiter as Guy surrendered, following the rhythm set.

“At a boy….nice….ride it baby…ride Donny’s cock.”

~~~BMR~~~


He liked it.

Sticky and sweet with a bitter aftertaste, Katze extended his tongue in hopes of more and groaned in frustration. The delicacy continued to elude him. God he hated the man. He had started this game and now took delight in torturing him with tiny morsels.

Just enough to pique the palette, his ass, the Elite was just a sick fuck. He wanted more.

Keeping the sweet just out of reach of that soft pink tongue, Raoul chuckled at the irritated moan and furrowed brows. The urge to kiss those parted lips about to pout was far too enticing to resist and so he did, after popping the last of the rich sweet in his own mouth.

The hungry tongue that snaked in his mouth in pursuit of its delicious quarry sent a sullen jolt of need through his loins as the lithe male shifted on his lap and thrust against his abdomen meaningfully.

Drink agreed with Katze, particularly on an empty stomach.

Raoul filed the tidbit away for future reference and painted the soft, wet lips with the last of sticky substance as reward.

“It’s called chocolate and in some cultures it is considered an aphrodisiac.” Raoul whispered against the smooth warm skin of Katze’s neck, well pleased with the shiver it caused as he nipped the mongrel gently and traced the outline of his Adam’s apple with the tip of a hot tongue.

“Mmmm… so good, please… I want more, Raoul.”

The Elite opened his eyes, shocked and mildly affronted by the familiar usage of his given name by the male seated astride his lap, nuzzling his cheek.

“Paint your cock with it, Master Am.”

Strong hands grasped the red-head’s hips, keeping them still.

Katze sighed. Apparently he had done something wrong, again. Fuck the man was mercurial. Isn’t this exactly what he wanted? His cock sure as hell said so, never missing an opportunity to grind against his ass suggestively.

As far as games went, it had been somewhat frightening at first what with the blindfold, but Raoul had made no sick demands, instead selecting to feed him at his leisure, requiring only the odd kiss in exchange.

No question about it, the Elite was orally fixated and a damn good kisser too. Katze mentally shrugged. It wasn’t unpleasant, far from it as his unruly cock could attest.

Confused, the Elite regarded the blindfolded man, his anger spiking without reason. He could barely suppress the growing need to strike the man absently carding his hair with contemplatively furrowed brows.

Katze winced. Raoul’s grasp was becoming decidedly painful.

“Master Am, please, you’re hurting me.”

Emerald eyes narrowed with malice. “Get off me, you filthy little cur.”

Blood drained from the dealer’s face. The deafening hiss of the Elite’s words reverberated within his head. Who knew a blindfold would be his saving grace? He did not wish to ever see those hate filled eyes.

Katze stumbled as he hurriedly rose, tripping on the hem of his disheveled robe. Instinctively, the mongrel curled into a tight ball of tense muscle, prepared for the inevitable strike as the Elite stepped over him and padded away, returning just as swiftly.

“You have five seconds to get dressed and get out.”


Billowing material that bore his distinctive scent shrouded his body. Katze clutched the items to his chest as he stood and carefully removed the silken cloth about his eyes.

Quietly, the mongrel dressed while the Elite stood vigil by the floor to ceiling windows, admiring the view.

Things were finally back to normal. It felt good to be dressed in clothing of his own choosing, the black market dealer thought, adjusting the sleeves of his outer coat. The cold chill he felt within was comforting.

“Thank you, Sir Am, if you require nothing further I will see myself out.”

Raoul turned and blinked in consternation at the obsequious tone that belied the mongrel’s stiff countenance and rigid back. It was as though nothing untoward had occurred between them. The eyes that met his briefly were opaque and devoid of emotion.

A curt bow and the lithe male turned on his heel, leaving as silently as he had come.

The Elite’s eyes followed the silhouette as it faded from his immediate view and listened for the sound that never came.

“Once a Furniture; always a Furniture.”

They did everything in silence, even the act of closing a door.

Raoul sighed, taking comfort in the exquisite view beyond the windows as he refilled his wine glass, pointedly stepping over the folded robe, left on the carpet and the clear package that had found its way there.

Well at least the damn glove had been returned. That was something anyway. He sipped the wine.

Luke warm, entirely unpalatable.


Author’s Note:

Not quite what you probably expected, but trust me…this happens for a damn good reason. Have patience and I sincerely, sincerely hope you enjoyed. Oh and some of your comments leave me spellbound. So intuitive, so very intelligently observant, I am eternally gratified and humbled by your kindness. Just today, I got the most wonderful review. The individual felt very much like they were in my head and got what I was trying to say about the pathos expressed here. It is a dull, constant in all their lives and she or he got it. Really got it and it resonated with the person in question. Again, constantly amazed at the depth of perception of the readers. No, this isn’t a flippant little piece and it isn’t always sunshine. I do hope you find it darkly beautiful. Guy is very pathetic in this piece and his sadness, particularly within his encounter is so desperately sad and resigned and I thank you for understanding that. He has but one thought...it has to get better. That wasn’t a must, it was a fate dearly wished and the only thing he had to hold on to. Again, you guys blow me away by understanding the context here.

Thank you for not being facile. See you soon. Again, if you wish a response to your review, please leave an email address.

EP