Time stopped. Obeying the orders, Kors got on all fours, lay down, climbed onto the bed when he was pulled by the chain. He sucked, swallowed, licked and did whatever was asked of him. He didn’t ask for anything himself, but if Nik gave him a drink of the unclean ones or some bread and said “drink” or “eat”, Kors obediently drank and ate everything. If Nik tugged at his chain, Kors crawled on all fours to the bathroom and tried to fulfill all natural needs as carefully as possible. Nik continued to tattoo him. He hammered paint over the patterns he had previously painted with dye on his ankles, wrists, and chest. He didn’t deafen Kors, but Nik and Arel barely spoke, or spoke in their minds, blocking their internal conversations from Kors. “Nik, leave the cigarette” or “Arel, bring some wine” didn’t count.
“Someone is coming to see you now,” Nik said, and Kors froze on his couch. He was afraid that Nik would give him to others. In tension, he began to listen to the footsteps in the corridor. There was a knock on the door and Nik said:
“Come in.”
He didn’t name the guest, but Kors intuitively, with some animal instinct, guessed who it might be, and he was not mistaken.
“Hi!”
“Hi, Zaf,” Nik answered as if nothing had happened.
And Kors involuntarily imagined this sight: a mess reigned in the room, because all these days he had not heard either Verniy or Valentine. Nik didn’t let them in, which meant that rubbish was not removed either. The bed was spread out and crumpled, naked Arel was lying on it, Kors knew about this, and knew that they were without clothes. And Kors, tied to a post, stood on his knees with iron “spoons” before his eyes, with a painted, partially tattooed body, bruised from Arel’s blows, with scratches from Nik’s claws and traces of their bites. Disheveled because Nik didn’t comb his hair, dirty, smelling of sweat, cum and shit, and lost all his aristocratic gloss.
“Will you drink?” Hospitably offered Nik to Zaf.
The belt buckle rattled, Nik began to put on his pants. Kors sat with his head bowed and not moving. Nik ordered him to be quiet, and he would not say a word. He heard them drinking and Nik asked Zaf how he was doing. What was the point of keeping up a conversation about business if they could communicate mentally in whole information blocks, and Nik already knew and saw everything? But they seemed to really be people, exchanged a few phrases.
They are forced to live according to the laws of this world, should they interact like people? But now it doesn’t seem to bother them. They even had fun. It seemed to Kors that they liked to be human and diligently speak in simple phrases. It seemed to amuse them, just as an adult sometimes takes part in children’s amusements, for example, sits on a horse on a carousel, and he has fun. So Zaf and Nik seemed to be having fun, talking and doing it as if for real, diligently, according to the rules:
“Zaf, what’s new in the camp?”
“Eh, nothing special, everyone is having fun and drinking, and Marbuel got into a fight with his brother.”
“Aha-ha! Because of what?”
“It seems they argued who would eat the heart and stomach of a pigeon.”
“A pigeon?!”
“Yes, because of such nonsense, they are not inferior to each other even in small things.”
“Do you lack pigeons?”
“We have a lot of pigeons!”
“What prevented them from taking another one?”
“Well, you see, my Lord, that they both needed this pigeon.”
“Aha-ha!”
Kors listened how they played “people”, a little clumsily, but according to the rules, and it began to seem funny to him. Now, when all his senses were sharpened, he noticed that all this was not real, but quite realistic. He completely forgot that Nik said:“Someone is coming to YOU now,” and suddenly he heard Zaf ask:
“Can I take Vitor to my place for a couple of hours?”
And to Kors’ dismay, Nik replied:
“Yes.”
“Where is your jealousy, Nik? Or are you punishing me like this for teasing you about my friendship with Zaf? Yes, Nik, you know how to reflect!” And it hurt a lot. Kors wanted to howl from being powerless, and at the same time he didn’t want to show his suffering. Let them do what they want. It wad possible that they agreed on everything in advance and were again playing a performance in front of him. Allegedly, Nik was jealous of Kors, but in fact … they just laughed at him for the umpteenth time, it would be very much like they enjoy. Of course, it didn’t look at all like they had agreed and were playing with Kors, fooling him, and why did they need it? But then what was happening? How could Nik give him to Zaf now? What a betrayal! He said that he would train him, made him an obedient slave, and now what? Nik wants to punish him for that terrible evening when Kors, in his thoughtless bravado, really wanted to suck Zaf to spite Nick. “Well, now get what you wanted, catch a return,” Kors thought bitterly, scolding himself. In order not to show Nik his pain, he habitually began to read the quatrain in his mind again and again.
Nik unhooked him from the post:
“You can get up.”
Kors got up. His legs didn’t obey him. Nik covered him with some kind of cloth, like a cloak, put something on his head, completely covering his face. Was it a bag? No! This was a cape! Nik put on him a woman’s cape, as if he were a slave woman. Kors cringed.
“Zaf will take you to him like that,” Nik explained, “I don’t want others to see you. You will be his slave.”
“What a tall girlfriend,” Arel laughed.
And Kors stood crushed, his head bowed low, and was silent.
“You can talk to Zaf, I allow it,” Nik said. But Kors said nothing. Zaf firmly took his arm and slowly led him along. Confused in the cape, Kors felt the cool floorboards in the corridor with his bare feet. He barely hobbled, Nik didn’t pull the dildo out of him, and he was in pain. Fortunately, it was not long to go, and when they arrived, Zaf immediately removed the humiliating cape from him. But Kors didn’t know if anyone else was in the room, and he only hoped there wasn’t.
“Sit down on the bed,” Zaf slightly directed him, and Kors carefully sat down. Why didn’t you call me? Zafasked.
“I’m all right,” Kors barely said, and Zaf ordered: “Lie down on your side.”
Kors immediately obeyed the order and lay down, as ordered by the unclean one. He was in their power, Nik gave him, and, therefore, he will obey Zaf.
Zaа gently lifted his leg to the side and pulled out the dildo, but Kors wasn’t happy, although he was relieved from the stick that tormented him. He knew that just now Zaf’s cock would replace the stick, and he would move, which would be even worse.
But Zaf was clearly not in a hurry, but for some reason covered Kors with a blanket:
“Sit up, have a drink, you’ll feel better,” he said.
Kors drank the offered wine.
“You will fall asleep for a couple of hours, rest. Anddon’t be afraid, Vitor, I won’t touch you. I have taken not you for this.”
“And for what?” Kors asked indifferently. Now he didn’t care anymore, and he was really tired.
“I took you to get some rest from them. I can’t take your glasses off, but I can do everything else, and you can just rest at my place.”
“But why?”
“What – why?” Zaf didn’t understand.
“Why are you kind to me?” Kors lifted his swollen face approximately in the direction from which he heard Zaf’s voice.
“I like you,” Zaf explained and ran him over his head, straightened his disheveled hair a little, “and I don’t know how much longer they are going to torment you.”
“You don’t know?” Kors was embarrassed by his impulse, it was impossible to show weakness.
“No, I don’t know,” Zaf replied sadly.
Kors wilted, but gathered his courage and said without any intonation:
“No, they don’t torment me, it’s training, examination and initiation,” Kors realized that it turned out very unconvincingly.
“In our tribe, young guys also go through initiation,” Zaf said, “not the same, of course, as yours, but also not easy.”
“And those who passed it are put plugs in their noses as a reward?”
“Yes.”
“What about those who can’t get through it? What does your tribe do with them?”
Zaf hesitated with the answer:
“They are eaten,” he finally said. And Kors covered his face with his hands:
“Ooh, it looks like this awaits me! I am a mediocre student, I laughed at Prince Arel that he was stupid, but he was no better. I’m probably dumber…”
“Vitor, sleep,” Zaf said softly and carefully, “stop stuffing your head with all sorts of thoughts, lie down.”
Maybe Zaf had slipped something into his wine, but Kors really wanted to sleep unbearably. It was as if a soft cobweb wrapped around his head, there were no thoughts, but it was pleasant, because along with his thoughts, his worries and fear disappeared. Dark blue clouds floated slowly before his eyes. They stretched out in long rows in the sunset sky. He saw a flat, endless steppe covered with dry grass, and the ground, dotted with some kind of small minks. Kors relaxed, lay down more comfortably, falling into sweet visions, when he suddenly heard the voices of Nik and Arel, he didn’t see them, but he heard them. Arel said:
“He doesn’t change,” and by the way he sucked in air, Kors realized that the prince was taking a drag on his cigarette.
“He needs time, not a long time has passed,” Nik objected.
“No matter how much time passes, he won’t change,” said Arel, and Kors heard him puff out smoke. “Vitor has lived his life,” Arel continued, “he is many years old. At this age, people don’t change.”
(Hearing this, Kors went wild with indignation – well, Arel, I’ll remember it!)
“On average, people live fifty or sixty years, and he is fifty.”
“But he is a true black,” Nik disagreed, “he is not an ordinary person and can easily live more than a hundred years, which means that now he is not old yet.”
“This is only a state of the body,” Arel disagreed with him again, “but the state of mind of true blacks is the same as that of ordinary people, and the lived years leave their mark. I, too, can live a hundred years and even more, my blood is purer than Vitor’s. Then, by your standards, I’m still a child. Do I look like a child?”
“No, well…a little…”
“We don’t age in body, but we grow up just like ordinary people, and his mind is the mind of a person who has passed his life. He’s old inside, he calls us “my boys” himself, and like all old men, he likes young lovers.”
“I love that stern yet loving look of his, when he looks at me like a father,” Nik said, and his hoarse voice became so gentle at the moment when he said this that Kors’ heart beat with happiness.
“I also love Vitor,” agreed Arel,
(Fuck you, Arel!)
“But Vitor has long been fully formed, his life rules and principles have grown together with him tightly, he is full.”
“He has a lively mind,” said Nik, “he perceives the new. I don’t believe my Vitor is hopeless.”
(And Kors was so grateful to him for those words, especially for “my Vitor”).
“Then you need to push harder,” said Arel.
“But he is obedient, he does everything. He tries.”
“Of course, because he has been serving someone all his life. He knows how to do it and has gone far in his career. In the army, in the Black City, he serves the king for many years. He is accustomed to serve, obey the orders of his superiors and carry them out. I’mtalking about this to you. It’s not that hard for him to follow orders.”
(“Arel, I’ll kill you!” Kors thought once again).
“He needs to be tied to a post,” Arel continued, “he is used to serving, but not used to physical suffering, not used to the restriction of the body. You need to lift his hands up and tie him high, and let him stand at the pole on his toes.”
“He will handle it,” Nik said, “I know.”
“Yes, he is stubborn as a ram,” Arel agreed, “but you need to try different options. You know, I’ll come back in the evening and beat him, tie him to a post… maybe this will work.”
(“Arel, what?! What?!” Kors literally yelled in his thoughts). And then he heard Nick quickly say:
“Damn, he hears us…”
And everything collapsed.
Kors jumped up on the bed.
“Zaf!”
Something large, covered with dark brown, almost black hairs, like thick fur, stirred in the corner. It sat there, curled up in a ball and tucked under itself, folded on both sides of the body, numerous powerful paws. Two dark green round eyes stared at Kors.
“I’m here,” said Zaf, “you didn’t get much sleep.”
“I have rested, thanks! Take me back please!”
Kors decided that if Arel was going to leave somewhere and would return only in the evening, he would have time to beg Nik not to do with him what the prince suggested. No matter how, beg mentally, and if Nik closes his thoughts, then out loud, he doesn’t care! But he will convince him that he is not old and that he will change and learn new things, and there is no need to push harder. Arel is wrong, and physical pressure on the verge of human capabilities will only destroy him.
“Zaf, take me back to Nik, please!” he repeated again, he needed to act. Now!
“Yes, Vitor, only you will have to put on the cape again.”
“Put it on me!”
Chapter 13
Once again covering Kors with a cape, Zaf took him back. He didn’t put the hated dildo into him, and therefore Kors moved more cheerfully, especially since now all his thoughts were completely absorbed by the upcoming conversation with Nik, and he paid little attention to reality.
Kors’ hope came true, Nik was alone. Arel had really gone somewhere, probably to the stable, where else could he go? It was a good start. Without saying a word, Nik habitually fastened Kors to the post, and lay down on the bed. The pause dragged on, and the initial fighting spirit of Kors began to disappear. He sat stupidly on the bedspread and didn’t know how to start a conversation. What if Nik had fallen asleep? How to call him? Just call out in the mind – “Nik?” How to start pleading? Nik will just tell him to shut up, that’s all. But Kors also had no intention of retreating. “Wait, wait, you need to think about everything… it won’t take long, Arel won’t have time to return. I need a plan. Maybe ask Nik mentally for water? So that he somehow reacts, to check what mood he is in, to get at least some kind of response first…”
Kors darted from one plan to another, not daring to act. In desperation, he covered his face with his hands, literally physically feeling that his skin was dirty. Nik hadn’t taken him to the bath for a long time, didn’t wash his face, and there were those damned glasses on his eyes! And in the evening Arel will beat him up and tie him to the post. “This will never end, I will just die! No matter what I do, they have power and I can’tchange anything. All my hopes are in vain.” Some kind of absolute indifference swept over him, forcing him to abandon all his plans for salvation. Kors slowly removed his hands from his face, lowered his hands, and suddenly he saw! He saw everything around him as if his eyes were open.
The room was in twilight, the shutters on the windows were tightly closed as always. On the nightstand next to the bed, a single candle was barely flickering in a gold but dirty and sooty chandelier. It flowed slowly over graceful, once shiny, now wax-drenched curved horns with cups for six more candles, now empty. Kors remembered that candlestick. Verniy once was cleaning it. It was a luxurious and beautiful item, especially when tall thin candles burned in it.
And Nik was sitting on the bed, and he wasn’t asleep. With his trousers unbuttoned, shirtless, he sat sideways to Kors, ugly hunched over and his head bowed low. He just sat, not moving, as usual, stretching his lame leg in front of him and slightly bending his good knee, and looked aloof, somehow sad, thoughtful and infinitely far from what surrounded him, from this whole world. His posture seemed unnatural and uncomfortable to Kors. “Like a broken toy” – involuntarily flashed through his mind, and Nik slowly turned to him. Kors saw his face, pale and still pierced, but it was no longer scarred. And Kors knew that these were not fantasies, not hallucinations of a man deprived of sight for a long time. He doesn’t think so, it’s for real! He could see Nik with his eyes closed, could see everything as it really was! He saw everything that was happening now in this room. And Nik looked at Kors, and he realized that Nik knew: Kors saw him!
Kors rushed forward, crawling towards the bed.
“Nik! I see you!”
And Nik reached out his hands to him and spun the bar out of his nose, taking it out and removing the shutters. Kors screwed up his eyes and began to rub them, feeling tears coming out of his eyes so treacherously from strong feelings.
“I saw you,” he whispered, “I could see you with my eyes closed!”
“Now you can see with your inner vision in the dark,” Nik said.
“Have I evolved? Have my eyes adjusted?”
“Yes,” Nik replied, “forgive me if that was cruel.”
“You did everything right!” Kors shouted. “It was me who acted like a stubborn idiot. I was angry at you. I need to ask for forgiveness! What can I do to make you forgive me?”
Nik shook his head.
“Nothing, everything is alright,” he unfastened the chain from the collar of Kors, “you are free.”
“And…and you won’t tie me to the post?” Kors asked apprehensively, but with obvious hope.
“No.”
“And can I clean myself up and get dressed?”
“Yes. There is a box of medicines on the table.”
“Can I heal the puncture?” Kors was very worried about his ruined face.
“Yes.”
Grabbing the box, Kors rushed to the bathroom. When he finally returned from there with a healed bridge of his nose, clean, combed and neatly dressed, he saw that Nik had not changed his position and was still sitting on the bed.
“Nik?” Kors called cautiously.
Nik raised his head and, looking at Kors, tried to force a smile.
“Nik, can I add some light?” Kors glanced at the candlestick.
Nik shrugged indifferently.
“As you wish…”
Kors roughly imagined where candles could be stored. He opened the closet, and next to the textbook, according to which Prince Arel once was learning the unclean language, under a notebook covered with clumsy handwriting, he found what he was looking for. He set the candles in the candlestick, replacing the almost burnt stub with a new one. Kors lit all seven candles at once, he wanted to get a good look at his son's face. Nik, it seemed, understood this and moved a little further on the bed.
“Nik! You look good! You no longer have a scar!” Kors exclaimed with genuine joy in his voice.
“A small trace remained, but in general, yes,” without any emotions, Nik agreed with him completely indifferently.
“Nik…”
“Thank you for the treatment.”
Kors sat down next to him:
“What happened to you? Why are you sad?”
“Everything is fine.”
“What can I do for you to make you feel better? Take my blood, my flesh, whatever you want! Just don’t be so miserable!”
Nik barely smiled out of the corner of his lips and did not answer.
“You miss your world,” Kors guessed. “Yes, I can’t help you return to your world, but I can do whatever you order in this world! What should I do? What?”
“Just love me,” Nik replied.
“I love you!”
“So, as you said, un… without… conditions?”
“I love you with unconditional love!” Kors shouted very sincerely. “I love you in any way! Both black and light! I was a fool when I got scared and threw you away! I was fool!”
“My daddy,” Nik said with some pride and smiled more cheerfully.
“How can you reconcile with your human part? How can you reconcile with this world?”
“No way. It’s all right, drink with me,” Nik got out of bed, went to the table and poured red wine into two glasses.
And Kors looked at him and didn’t recognize him. It was still the same Nik, but… as if different. Kors was surprised to realize that Nik wasn’t that small after all. Why did he look like this? At first, when Kors was a master, the head of the king’s security service and the father of only Karina, Nik seemed to him a pretty half-blood. Then when Nik became his son, he was his handsome little boy. But Nik was neither this nor that. And now Kors understood that his son was indeed taller than an ordinary commoner, the blood of true blacks, the blood of masters, was visible in him. He was well-proportioned, well-built, with broad shoulders, a narrow torso, and legs that were not at all short, but exactly as they should be for his height. It’s just that true blacks often have naturally long legs, and because of it they are tall. And Nik was just as he had to be. He was thin, but not as emaciated as Kors saw, and his ribs didn’t stick out at all. He had dense, firm, relief muscles. His shoulders, arms, and abs were noticeably pumped up, only the thighs were probably thinner than necessary. Unfortunately, limited by his disability, Nik didn’t walk much and couldn’t run and jump like the others.
Nik handed him a crystal glass with maroon wine inside.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Kors took the offered wine:
“Why did you look so thin and small to me?!”
“Probably, to loving parents, their children often seem like that. Small and skinny. Therefore, they take care of them, constantly feed them so that they grow up and get more bulky,” Nik laughed shortly. “I told you a hundred times that I’m of normal height! And not skinny! You yourself ordered the red doctor from Ore Town to weigh me. And he told you I had normal weight, remember? But you seem to be blinded. And you were constantly feeding me!”
“You really are not exhausted and not small!” Kors even was delighted.
Yes, of course, Nik was shorter than the black gentlemen, but not as short as he seemed.
“I told you that! Vitor, I’m of normal height, but you seemed to like to belittle me, to see me small, and I reconciled.”
Kors smiled.
“Why are you smiling?” Nik couldn’t understand his joy.
“I’m glad you’re not small!”
“Oh! I probably grew up and gained weight these days? Really? You think so?”
“No, but…”
“Vitor, you just perceived me as a little boy.”
“Who was taken from me. Yes, yes, I understand everything,” Kors couldn’t stop smiling stupidly.
“Let’s have a drink!” Nik raised his glass.
“Yes,” said Kors, “for you, Nik!”
“For me?”
“Because you’re not small!”
Nik sincerely laughed, and Kors was glad that he managed to distract him from his sad thoughts and cheer him up.
“No, no, Vitor, let’s drink for you then!”
“Why for me?”
“I’ll drink to my daddy, who took care of me and fed me so well that I grew up and got more bulky! For your hearty and healthy porridge!”
“I thought you liked my blood better,” said Kors.
“And blood, too,” Nik agreed slyly.
Kors had long forgotten this feeling of happiness when they were sitting like that, chatting about all sorts of nonsense and laughing.
“What happened to your scar, will you tell me?”
“Either pus or poison began to flow from it, or it flowed and flowed, all this shit… And then it all flowed out, and everything healed, and there was no more scar on the face. You have cured me!”
“I’m happy!” Kors breathed out. “Tell me, are you a Demon now?”
“I’m merged with the human, and I am half human in this World. You know it.”
“Do you have a lot of him in you?”
“I can use everything he has, and he doesn’t have much. You told me yourself that your son is a stupid thoughtless boy.”
“Does it make you sad? Is that why you’re sad?”
Nik shook his shaggy head.
“I’m used to him, and I accept him, I am him. And whenever possible, I supplement him, as far as I am allowed.”
“You seem to have two personalities.”
“I can’t be the Demon here all the time, but I can’t be the only Demon either.”
“What a hellish mixture,” Kors smiled, “and I love you just like that!”
Nik drained his glass to the bottom and lay back relaxed on the bed, turning over on his side. And Kors couldn’t stop admiring his now not disfigured face and thought that, despite the fact that Nik had been abusing alcohol for a sufficient amount of time, this had not left an irreparable imprint on his cute appearance. “It is said that divine creatures drink the nectar of heaven. My fallen Angel, instead of that you are now drinking moonshine of the unclean,” Kors thought sadly and tenderly.
Nik got up. He propped his head on his bent elbow and looked at Kors.
“Well, what is it again? You just devour me with your eyes, you can’t have enough of seeing.”
“I miss you, I haven’t seen your face in such a long time! I love my human son with paternal love, I love the Demon as his devoted slave, but with unconditional love I love this combination of man and Demon. In your merger, for me, you are the real one.”
Leaning on his fist, Nik listened to him, smiling slightly.
And Kors enthusiastically continued:
“You add inner fire to the beautiful appearance of my son, and this is the perfect combination! External and internal complement each other. When they are not separate, but together, then you become one, you become a person.”
“You are being carried away again,” Nik drawled. “Why do you always philo… philosophize? Just like Tol. Don’t forget that your son is a fool, and most of the time I can only use his mind.”
“The inner strength of the Demon gives true beauty to the human shell. You are beautiful! Feelings for you have conquered me! Really, the most powerful weapon in this world is love! And it had disarmed me! This is the effect of a broken dam! When you truly love, it’s like a bright light shines on you, and you bathe in this light. I…”
“Vitor, I’m not as beautiful as you think!” Nik interrupted him, apparently suspecting that this would go on a long time, “just as I seemed small and thin to you, I also seem beautiful to you now. But not to such extent!”
“For me – to such extent!”
“It’s just that something coincided in your head – the idea of beauty and my face, the appearance of Inness. When you were young and saw her, she immediately stuck you. And then it started. And that’s why I look so beautiful to you. It’s a because of Inness. I agree, for many people I am cute, but not to the point of madness, as for you. And when you saw me for the first time during interrogation, you were not so impressed.”
“I was impressed.”
“But you didn’t want me then, did you? And then, when you came to the Estate, we talked for a long time, you didn’t even think of me as a lover.”
“You were very dirty.”
“Damn, I was the same! Everything was the same! Your look has changed, you got feelings for me, Lis had spurred you on.”
“As well as you. The redhead brought us together because he understood everything before we did.”
“Someday you will see me again … adequately, and you won’t understand why you were so crazy before.”
“You want to explain to me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Kors nodded understandingly, “so be it. But now I can’t change anything. Not only that, I love you with scales too.”
“Oh, no,” Nik, it seemed, was even frightened, and sat up on the bed. “No, you don’t love it.”
“I love it! I know it’s just one of your skins. I was frightened, I won’t hide it, but everything quickly returned to normal. Anger and resentment subsided in me for the umpteenth time.”
“Subsided so much that you thought to run away from me to Leonardo!”
And Kors froze:
“Forgive me! I beg you!”
“You wanted to betray me when we arrived in the Black City!”
“No! No! I wouldn’t have survived it myself! I would kill myself, I swear!” Kors folded his arms across his chest.
Nik looked at him carefully. His eyes were like a bottomless sky on a cloudy day:
“I have always been drawn to you, people, even though I have been so cruelly betrayed by you many times… Maybe at least you won’t betray me.”
“Never!” Shouted Kors, continuing to press his cupped palms to his chest with all his fervor.
“No, you will still break my heart, Vitor,” Nik said. It seemed that Kors’ emotional demonstration of feelings didn’t make the right impression on him. “You try to do it this every time and hurt me, you will get your way sooner or later, I feel it.”
“No! No! I won’t!”
“But that’s what you are doing! How many times have you broken my heart when you showed me to the masters, humiliated me, tossed me aside, beat me with words, every day you told me that I was a fool and drunkard…”
“But you're really a drunkard…”
“Vitor! Go to hell!”
“I was just stating a fact.” Kors was barely able to keep from laughing. He was so amused by these ingenuous emotions of confusion, indignation and misunderstanding of such impudence from Kors, they were changing on Nik’s face one after another, making him look warm and familiar.
“That’s all, Vitor, go to hell! Now I myself will tie you to a post and beat you!”
“No,” Kors shook his head, “you really don’t like beating me. You hand me over to Prince Arel, you don’t beat me yourself,” Kors smiled slyly, “and you’re a drunkard,” and, looking again at Nik’s facial expression, he laughed out loud.
He heard that Nik loved him, and therefore wasn’t afraid of anything. He was happy and relaxed.
“Well, since I’m a drunkard, let’s have a drink then? Will you pour me?”
“Yes,” Kors took the empty glass from him, went to the table himself and poured wine, gave the glass to Nik.
They drank. After several days of torments and restrictions, Kors was unusually well, and he was literally being carried away.
After drinking his wine, Nik moved closer to Kors, hugged him around the waist and buried his face in his chest, pressed himself like a child, like his son. Kors was overwhelmed by a wave of tenderness.
“Nick, my favorite boy…” he stammered from overwhelmed feelings. “Have I brought you back? Have I got my boy back? Have I returned him?”
“Yes…”
“Will you forgive me for everything I’ve done?”
“Won’t you stop loving me again?”
“No! Never!”
Nik pulled away from him a little and raised his face:
“Now that I don’t have a scar, you’ll like me even more, right? I am no longer a cracked porcelain figurine. Or did you actually like the scar, just like Arel did?”
Kors grabbed him impulsively and held him close again.
“For me it doesn’t matter anymore, I love you with any scars with unconditional love! But I’m so glad I had cured you!”
He stroked Nik’s hair, burrowing deep into it and feeling the tangled clumps of mats under his fingers, pressing his face against the top of his head, inhaling the smell of tobacco, as if he couldn’t breathe enough. Nik trustingly clung to him, consoling himself like a kitten.