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Our room was cleaned of the blood that Miss Bella ‘Pok’ had spilled, and it was nearing the end of our stay here in Italy. I had business to get back to in London, reports to fill out and recovery to be made. Naples was a beautiful place, it held a certain… timeless charm that I couldn’t help but admire.
Everything was in order, except one thing.
Charlie stood on the balcony to our room, his beautiful curls swept about in the sea breeze. The ocean was particularly tumultuous that night. Smoke curled up from the fag he held between his lips, the orange glow illuminated his face as he looked out over the now quiet fishing village. I couldn’t quite make out the look on his solemn face as I approached him, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, leaning my head upon his shoulder. The natural honey scent he possessed overwhelmed my nostrils and I was near-drunk on it.
“Will you be coming to London with me, dear boy?”
“It’s part of th’ deal, sir. ‘Course I’ll be goin’ to London with you.” He took in a long suck of the tobacco, letting the ash fall into the steady wind. “You’d find yourself short a valet otherwise.”
“Too true.” I gently mouthed along the side of his neck, tasting his warm skin. “We leave by the end of the week.” He hummed in response to me, suffocating the glow on the railing. "Care to lay down? It's awfully late."
He took my hand, leading me into the room. We slipped past the ghostly linen curtains, his hand guiding me inside, but he stopped short. His face turned away from me, the grip tightened on my hand and trembled.
"What's wrong?" His hand slipped from my grasp and worry filled my veins as I closed the space between us. "Charlie?"
"It's nothin' sir," A quiet, broken laugh spilled from his lips. My soul ached from his broken voice. "I was just rememberin' the other night… You promised…"
Damnit, I've really mucked it up this time. Good going Box, you've lost dear boy's trust.
I took both of Charlie's hands in my own and looked him in the eye. If there was a time to show vulnerability, it was that moment, something in my very being screamed and clawed at my heart. It told me that if I didn't take this boy in earnest, if I didn't keep him close to me, I would regret it for the rest of my miserable life. I sank to my knees, trailing kisses along his shirtless torso, the soft, loose fabric of his pyjamas. Sitting on my haunches, I looked up at him hugging myself to his legs. His icy gaze studied me with confusion.
I drew my eyes away, worried about what I might find in those crystal-like orbs, the words floated from my lips as a whisper, “Forgive me…”
His strong hand came to my hair, running his fingers through my loose locks. “You lied to me… sir.” Please, please . “I can't say yes to you.”
My heart gave an unexpected leap of fear. “Dear boy-”
“I want to.” Charlie’s hand drifted down, caressing my pale cheek before hooking under my chin, forcing my eyes to lock onto his, “I want to, so bad, sir... But I can't.” As if I could peer into his mind, the moment we shared in Pompeii attacked my consciousness. How I selfishly brushed Charlie off with barely a moment’s remorse. “I'm tired, Mr. Box... I'm tired of being a second thought, I want to belong somewhere.” A gentle tear rolled down his cheek, shining in the moonlight.
“Then you are mine, dear boy. You are my only.” Don’t cry, please don’t cry because of me Charlie, don’t let me become a source of pain and sorrow. I’ve broken countless hearts in my life, I don’t want you to become another one. I would never let you become another forgotten ghost of my past, only to haunt me forevermore.
He took in a deep, shaking breath, it hitched in his throat from an approaching sob. “How do I know you're being honest?” A crooked smile plastered itself onto his lips, new droplets dripped, dripped down, he was being strong… but I could see the cracks. I felt them beneath my very fingers and I wanted to hold him together with every ounce of my being.
I slowly stood, bringing him into my hold, his head rested on my chest as a loud sob broke free of his restraint. My lips pressed into his hair, his small frame quivered in my arms. How could I do this to the boy, how could I let myself break his hope and trust like this. It slipped away from me and I made no effort to reach for it. But here I am, casting myself out and searching for his soul once again. “Let me show you.” I hooked my finger under his chin, levelling his gaze with my own. “Every kiss will be a new promise to you.”
"...what makes you different from the rest of them?" ‘The Rest’ . Every other sorry bastard that’s taken him for granted, treated him like nothing but a lowly whore. Every man and woman who has promised his partnership, only to leave him in the dust and degrade him into but a whisper of memory. Used and forgotten.
Well bugger me then- what did make me different? I was a bastard among men, I slept with every pretty face and pert arse I could get my hands on... I knew nothing of permanence. What made me any different?
"I'm not any different..." His face fell impossibly more. "But... I want to change."
In the past, my attempts at commitment were feeble. I tried to be a good man, to mean something to someone. But in the end, even my charms and appeal did nothing to stop her from leaving me in Number Nine with nothing but a taste of what love could be.
Blast, I didn’t learn a damned thing, did I?
I became the very thing I hated .
"I want to change, dear boy. Please." I want to change for you . Just you, Charlie.
He cupped my cheek, swiping away a wet spot I didn’t even know was there. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Charlie’s lips were hot against my own, my heart pounded in my chest; this was real, wasn’t it? After years of nothing but loose strings and half-hearted attempts, this was the real thing. “I love you.” The words slipped from me before I could process them. But the smile that spread on Charlie’s face was worth it. “Oh god, I love you.”