My Scholar, My Victim, My Love

gorgeous-fiend:

There is a peculiar  irony that the healthiest and brightest relationship I have ever had has been wrought from quite possibly my most despicable act of depravity to date. I do not dwell much on it- possibly out of some sort of suppressed shame, but most likely because I simply do not see the point.  Of course, I am  thankful and quite frankly astounded things  turned out as well they did, as I  fully expected David to hate me from now to eternity- whenever that may be for him.

What surprises me  even more is  how willing I was  to grant David his autonomy. And how easy it was.  Almost immediately after our short-lived holiday to Rio de Janeiro, we had parted ways. It had not been sad at all. We  did not leave each other on bad terms, quite the opposite it fact. Instead, we left with a profound understanding of one another and a camaraderie I confess to have never known. Even among my brothers in the Auvergne I had not felt such kinship. Especially not among my brothers.  And had it ever been so simple with the others? Absolutely not.

Nicolas had been a mistake, I am willing to admit it now after so many years, hailed into the blood by his maker’s blindness and foolhardy sense of justice.  Despite the love between us there will forever be a rift between myself and Gabrielle that will never fully satisfy and will always drive us away from one another. And I had all but strangled Louis and Claudia in my fear and desperation for love. But David- my scholar, my victim, my love- saw me and accepted  me. Knew me  for the monster I was and still loved me. Even when  my betrayal sucked him down to the pits of darkness, David’s devotion outweighed his anger. I should be ashamed of myself, but I am not. I would do it to him one thousand times over.

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