Flip the Coin [BL] N Chapter 91. Waiting

Chapter 91 - 91. Waiting

(Henry's POV)

After Kenny was gone, I didn't close the window and looked after him. He soon wasn't spotted anymore.

I went to the wall across the window and put the debris away with my foot, before I sat down. The girl didn't talk, and I also buried my face in my hands, just like her.

After two weeks alone, with only the thought of finding him to keep

going, the terror of imaging my master's death, the longing to finally be side by side without shackles, and others—now I again was left behind by him.

First the prison, to which I brought him personally, that drew the line between us. Now instead of taking his dog with him and letting

do the fighting and the dangerous tasks, I was rendered to stay here for a girl he had not even known before.

My head hurts, and I can't stand the girls' breathing sounds. I wanted to cover my ears so that she is silenced, but at the sa ti, I couldn't miss any fireworks that told

that Kenny was okay.

I thought it would be enough to just follow each of his commands, but that was under the premise that we would be together.

Do I really have not the bit of a chance to make ands?

Every ti I think he opens up a bit to , sothing happens.

Like the vision he got of

in bed with another. I had seen what he was able to do, and I naturally believe in every vision he has, but just not this one.

The life of excesses was over, and I never had the need to touch anyone after I made the withdrawal, and even more so after seeing my 'sister's' dead body.

The first firework brought

out of my thoughts. I walked to the window and watched it explode in the sky.

After waiting and watching, I went back to sit down on my spot on the wall.

I highly doubt to ever again have the desire to go back to an activity that had only served for

as a pain reliever.

Evidently, that is not entirely true. I had felt a pang of wretched desire when Kenny threw

to the mattress after entering my solitary cell.

When the guilt, the horror and the fury of hearing the tale he told

overca

and rendered

immobile. The grueso account of him nearly getting raped by soone.

Not because of what he told , but because of his actions, and I was really sure that he would penetrate

every given second.

The mont he told

he would fuck

for every ti, he would have to withstand the sa, I was so shocked by a possibility I had never thought of since knowing of his innocence. Another horror that could have happened to him, stunning

so much that I agreed imdiately.

But later, when I searched the internet, when I got to try it with my fingers—even though I found it disgusting, and I felt reduced to a hole at the thought alone—I still found I could really go through with it if it was Kenny who did it.

If it was my master who did .

When Kenny pulled my pants down, and I heard him do the sa, a wretched and crazy anticipation rose in . Not for the intercourse itself, but for him to reduce the distance between us to nothing and for him to take

in as his own.

At the possibility of him 'raping'

and for the guilt to reverse because for every bad he would do to , my guilt would be reduced and his would increase. The mont the guilt balanced, we would finally stay on even ground, maybe even beco companions.

At the sa ti, I only felt liberated from a small part of the heavy guilt, of the fury, and the desperate excitent when I heard him tell

that it hadn't co to the worst. It should be because of his unbelievable ability.

I felt a relief I had never felt before. Any thoughts of guilt and its reversal were out of the window instantly.

He couldn't even do sothing serious to , even if he wanted to. The bout of desire again erupted when he bit

in the neck while straddling .

The next ti was when he applauded

for shearing the longhaired prisoner.

Followed by him laughing when I headbutted the motherfucker of a guard.

By seeing him again after two weeks in this place full of blood and endless darkness, and then taking him into my arms.

And I could feel the bout of desire more vividly when I saw these dazed bright red eyes, the light shudder of his, and the clear passion his face displayed. Followed by annoyance or anger.

But seeing him like this really brought

a sexual desire, which I had never had before for a man.

Then, the strongest and most evident mont, when he saved my life and fired a gun while straddling . Giving

full display of his beautiful red eyes, his concentrated look, his Adams apple, his lean body that was covered with muscles under the orange clothing, and the way he protected

with so much ease.

I can only assign these fleeting thoughts and intense feelings to the fact that my emotions had twisted greatly into sothing I was unable to recognize anymore.

Who am I anyway?

The second firework was lit, and I again wandered to the window, looking outside.

I had no way to develop a steady personality or character because I was busy numbing myself in my late childhood and through my teenage years.

From feeling nothing to feeling everything at once with the apparent death of my twin sister, there had never been any kind of steadiness inside

before.

I wouldn't even recognize myself if I was punched in the face by my own fist.

I could, however, tell what I am not.

Soone who disregarded his promise.

Soone with homosexual tendencies.

Soone to go against his master.

Soone who is good at waiting.

However, the identity Kenny gave —that of his dog—that, I would continue to make my own.

So, I had to wait, although I did not want to wait.

So, I would not seek any kind of relationship in the future, regardless of what Kenny saw in his vision.

So, I had to look after the girl Kenny had taken with us while mangling myself with the dread at the thought that sothing could have happened to him.

Another firework; this ti it were two in a row, which ant he needed more ti.

Kenny, although I am not good at waiting for you, you punish

by letting

do precisely that.

How cruel of you.