Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Cyrus rolled toward me at that. His face squished up cutely. He looked confused. “Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll be the best company today.”
I was never the best company. While I talked more nowadays, I knew I didn’t give him enough words. He deserved more. “You are the only person I ever want to be around.”
He gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “God, I love you. Come on. Let’s go.”
I got up, and Cyrus sat on the edge of the bed, taking his pills and then following me to the living room. We were both shirtless, in nothing but pajama bottoms, as he padded along behind me.
The second he saw it, Cyrus stilled. I watched him taking it in. He didn’t speak, didn’t move for what felt like an eternity before he said, “You painted a Christmas tree on your wall for me?”
“Yes.” I waited, hoping it was the right thing. Almost immediately, he started crying. It was quiet, but he didn’t have to look my way for me to know. “I can cover it if—”
“No! Please don’t.” He turned to me, his face splotchy. “No one has ever been this nice to me. No one has ever made me feel like I matter. I’ve always been something people can throw away. I don’t know how to deserve this.”
“You already do.” I’d told him last night. Cyrus gave me himself. That was all I needed. “She said you were her sun, but you’re mine too.”
He started to cry harder then, before walking to me. Cyrus wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his face in my neck. He took deep breaths, taking in the scent of me. It was something I’d noticed he liked. He did it when he would sit on the floor with my cock between his lips for hours.
We held each other until he calmed down, until the crying finally ceased. He let his emotions free so easily. The last time I cried was when I was twelve years old. Chosen had been upset with me, and I’d needed a beating for Clarity. It had hurt so bad, I’d let the tears flow, and he’d been so disappointed in me. Telling me I wasn’t worthy of being his son and he didn’t think I would ever be Enlightened. Men didn’t cry, according to him, and I had shut down my emotions that day. Now, I thought Cyrus was braver than anyone I’d ever known.
I took his hand, loving the feel of his smaller limb in my grasp.
“Jesus, Crow. This is very good.”
I shrugged, unsure how to take the compliment, but then he saw the box and immediately dropped to his knees, using his finger to trace Cyrus & Cypress, which I’d engraved into the top.
“It’s for your things. To keep them protected.” He didn’t have much from his mom, and I wanted him to have a safe place to keep them rather than just the cardboard.
“I love it. So much.” He still looked down at the box. “Thank you, Crow.”
There was a slight sadness to his voice, one I thought came from a lot of things. “You give me control,” I told him. “That’s something I will always need. I told you last night, you give me more than I ever expected I’d have.”
Cyrus looked up at me, his gray eyes so gentle and open. “I know.”
“Giving you what you need, that is my purpose.” People had joined The Enlightened because they thought Chosen was their way to salvation. It had been ugly and wrong—the things he had done—yet I’d wanted it so badly back then, to make Chosen proud.
Now I knew my salvation was the man in front of me, and it was beautiful and right and I would never let him go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cyrus
Crow made waffles and eggs for breakfast. While he cooked, I drank my coffee and sent a quick text to Melody to wish her a Merry Christmas. I’d been keeping in contact with her, as promised. It was nice to have a friend, or at least someone who could become a friend.
Crow and I sat together at the table with less heaviness than what had weighed me down the night before. I still felt a little useless, like he was the only one giving and I was just taking. That Crow would be better off without me. But I was fighting like hell not to lose myself to those thoughts. Crow said he wanted me. He said I was all he needed, and I did everything in my power to believe him.
Because mixed up with all that guilt, I felt so happy, I could fly. Crow wanted me, and had painted a Christmas tree on his wall for me, and had built me a box to keep my mom’s things in. He didn’t tell me he loved me, and maybe he never would, but he’d kissed away my tears and pressed his lips to mine one time. His actions showed he cared. That was enough—it was more than I thought I’d ever have.