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Shattered Porcelain

Brittni_Waites · Real
Sin suficientes valoraciones
26 Chs

Accosted

The wind felt good in his hair and he closed his eyes simply enjoying the sensations of the air whipping his hair in every direction. The sun was warm against his face and he thought it'd been too long a time that he had made the sun's acquaintanceship. They still had a few hours' drive before arriving at their destination, and Jonathan hoped that this impromptu vacation away would be just what they both needed.

He'd made a promise to himself that he'd keep his feelings away from the situation. He would be Mayson's rock, his pillar of strength. He would hold him when he needed it, ground him when his mind began to take over logic. He swore he'd keep himself in check in case Mayson fell apart.

Jonathan glanced over to his right and smiled. Mayson was sound asleep, his face turned toward him, mouth slightly open as he breathed. A wave of melancholy washed through him, however, when they came to a stoplight in a pass-through town on their way to their destination. Not even in sleep can you fully relax. He resisted the urge to reach out and trace his fingers softly down his face. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, opened them, and left the town behind.

Some hours later Jonathan pulled into a Wendy's off the freeway, his hunger no longer affording him the ability to ignore it. Mayson still slept next to him, having moved very little. He hated to wake him up.

"Mayson, love," he whispered gently so as to not scare him. "Mayson, wake up, love."

"Huh?" Mayson startled awake and quickly looked around. He smiled when his gaze landed on Jonathan. The first real smile Jonathan can remember in too long.

"Hi."

Jonathan smiled back, his heart melting at that smile. One day you won't wake up scared, baby, he thought before saying aloud,

"I'm starving. Want something?"

"Can I come in with you?" He asked, not being able to keep the panic from his voice at the thought of being alone.

"It would be my pleasure, Mayson, to always have you at my side," he answered quietly before exiting the car.

Mayson blushed as he watched Jonathan come around to his side and open the door for him. Mayson smiled again as he reached for Jonathan's outstretched hand.

They talked quietly while they ate, Jonathan making it his personal goal to make that smile appear as often as possible. Jonathan checked his watch as they exited the fast-food franchise.

"It's almost three. We're making-"

"Hey!"

Jonathan turned around at the front of his 2000 Trans Am, making sure Mayson was behind him. He felt the tingling of threat in that voice.

Mayson jumped at the tone in the stranger's voice, instantly taking refuge behind Jonathan. Oh, god, he's found me. He found me and he came after me like he always said.

"Can I help you?" Jonathan asked as his whole body tightened.

"Yeah, who the fuck do you think you are?"

Jonathan frowned in confusion. He had no idea who this man was.

"I think you must be mistaking me for someone else."

"I don't give a fuck who you are if you're doing that to him, we have a problem," the man spat his words angrily. Jonathan slightly turned his head, his ears perking at Mayson's whimper.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I suggest you turn around and go back inside."

"Or what," the stranger challenged. "You gonna beat me like you've beaten him?"

Mayson whimpered again behind him. "Jonny, please, can we go?" Mayson whispered as he peaked around Jonathan's shoulder.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Mister. Just walk away."

Mayson was beginning to panic the longer they stood there entangled in this confrontation. He felt his pulse rate accelerate as the man began stepping toward them. Jonathan took two steps forward keeping distance between this stranger and Mayson. The man was in an outrage as he prepared to grapple with an unknown enemy.

In much the same move performed on Lucius, Jonathan disabled the man and he found himself face down on the asphalt before he knew what had happened.

"Now listen here," Jonathan began digging his knee into the man's spine while trapping his arm behind his back.

"I've never laid a finger on him. I am the one that took him away from that cock sucking son-of-a-bitch, so maybe you shouldn't pick fights with people you know nothing about, on subjects you know nothing about. Let this be a lesson."

"Jonathan, stop, please, just let him go. Please, Jonny, let's just go."

Mayson's voice cut through the ire that pulsated within his veins. He looked up at Mayson, the look in his eyes causing him to let go of the stranger's wrists, which were bent at awkward angles, and stood up.

He kept his eyes on Mayson, who was a whiter shade of pale, his eyes wide and shining. The stranger who accosted them stayed where he was until Jonathan stood by Mayson before he slowly got to his feet. He said nothing as he watched Jonathan run a soft knuckle down his tear-stained cheek. Mayson nodded in response to an unheard question before his eyes flicked over to him.

The stranger watched as Mayson smiled before looking his way. He said something the stranger couldn't hear before he made his way towards where he stood several feet away. Mayson leaned heavily on Jonathan, his forehead resting on his shoulder, before making his way slowly to the other man.

"Hi," Mayson said shyly with a smile. He glanced at the man's eyes before quickly looking away.

The man frowned. This isn't something he expected, though the frown faded as he answered him.

"Hi. Are you okay, kid?"

Mayson looked up and held his gaze long as he dared.

"I am now. Jonathan would never hurt me. He really did get me out. But..." he paused a moment unable to properly form the words he needed, "thank you for doing that for me. No one besides Jonathan in my whole life has ever...protected me...and now you. Thank you."

The man looked at the boy in front of him a moment, speculating on the truth of those words. He was saddened by the fact he knew the boy was telling him the truth.

"You're welcome," he said gently before looking over to Jonathan, who was still standing where Mayson left him, watching, in full mode to move if need be.

"I'm sorry. My son..." he sighed and looked away before looking back to Mayson.

"My son was beaten almost to death by an abusive boyfriend. The man left him paralyzed and...deeply scarred."

"What's your name?"

"Alex. Alex Livingston."

"I'm sorry about your son. You're a good man. I...I really will be okay, though. I wanted to tell you that. And to tell you thank you for caring."

Alex smiled sadly, his eyes telling Mayson his thoughts were with his son.

"I hope you really will be okay, son. What's your name?"

"Mayson Alexander."

Jonathan made himself stand still, fighting against every instinct to remain where he'd promised to stay. He had to, though. He couldn't break this promise. He had the sense to know that this was important to the man who owned his heart. Mayson asked him to trust him. And he did. He saw Mayson smile at the man before turning and making his way back to the car.

They made it to their destination just under four hours later. Mayson had been quiet and Jonathan left him to his thoughts.

When they pulled onto the long driveway that leads to the private beach-side cabin, Jonathan looked over to Mayson and smiled. He'd fallen into a light slumber, his head propped up against the closed window. The fading sunlight showed through his hair, highlighting bits of gold that lie in natural highlights along the top of his scalp.

Jonathan put the car in park, the lack of movement causing Mayson's eyes to pull themselves open and take in his surroundings.

"Where are we?" He asked as he stretched the kinks from his back.

"South Carolina."

"South Carolina? How'd you know about this place?" Mayson looked around. The cabin was small but cozy. There was a freshly cut stack of firewood against the eastern side of the outer wall, a rather large chimney protruding from the roof, three windows Mayson could see from where they sat in the car, and off to the left of them was a private beach that looked out toward the coastline.

The wind was mild and cool and smelt of the sea. The sun was just sinking below the horizon, giving the eye an illusion of the water burning in hues of orange, blue, red, and pink.

Mayson looked around in wide-eyed wonder at the nature that surrounded them. He loved nature. He always felt at home anywhere where he could immerse himself in Mother Nature. He smiled at Jonathan, his eyes alight with an innocent enthusiasm that made Jonathan's heart both soar and break.

"It's beautiful here, Jonny. How'd you know about this place?"

Jonathan looked around. "It belonged to a friend of mine. When she died, she left it to me. We'd come spend weeks out here to get away from...everything...and never see another soul the whole time. It's a good place to heal." He smiled at him briefly. "Come on, beautiful, let's go inside."

Mayson smiled as a blush rose to his cheeks and exited the car slowly. Jonathan, who'd come to the other side, reached out his hand. Mayson smiled again, his blush brightening. He did not flinch, but instead accepted Jonathan's hand.

"You hungry?" Jonathan asked once he had put away their clothes and toiletries. Mayson lounged on the sofa, his body aching from being cooped up in the car for so long.

"Starving."

"Good. You feeling okay?"

"Tired. Sore. Hungry." Mayson leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling himself sink further into the leather sofa.

"I'll go make something. You gonna be okay here or you wanna lie down in the bedroom?"

Mayson shook his head. "I'm good right here."

Jonathan chuckled to himself, enjoying the fact that Mayson was relaxed for now.

"Okay, love. Holler if you need me."

Mayson opened his eyes and watched Jonathan turn and walk into the kitchen.

"I'll always need you, Jonny. That's what scares me," he whispered to himself. "It's what's always scared me."