"It is wrong of me to be happy about their disgrace?"
Why would it be, dear? You're such a ray of light, you shed brightness to my life. Why would be anything you do wrong? Yeah, I know. It must sound strange to you such adoration, but It's just what I feel. Don't you believe it? I must say you shouldn't.
Like I was before, no one should believe any of what escaped my mouth. What did you just say, sweetie? I wasn't that bad? Well, yes, I was indeed, despite what you like to believe. I never stood my ground for anybody before you, and I ought to say that I haven't done much of a work with you either.
I remember the first time I saw you. You were standing there, at the hall of the university, looking around like a deer caught in the light. You're eyes were big and round, curious and scared. I licked my lips and observed what I thought would be my prey. How wrong I was. I didn't know at the time that the prey would be me.
So that first day I decided that you would be mine. But mine in a dirty, unloving way. It was what I was then, what I would still be hadn't been for you. That was the day I first lay eyes on you, and from that single moment I was trapped. I repeat, I didn't now then, and I didn't realize for a long time, but that day was my last day as a free guy.
That day you didn't realize me. Nor you did in a long time. Not once did you acknowledge me in that room for nearly a year, despite all my efforts.
That first day of university I didn't even know your name, nor whether you were a first-year student or if you even were a student. So I backed off and decided to wait. Like an owl waits for the little mouse to show his nose, ready to hunt and kill it.
Three days later, I saw you entering the english literature class I was attending. I thought "Such a luck you have, Matthew, such a luck" And smiled to myself. I managed to sit down just by your side, but not once did you depart your sight from your little netbook nor from the professor. I was curious. Who were you, and why weren't you drooling for me on first sight? Why were you even not noticing me?
So I waited more.
A week later, I saw you again. You were such a little thing then, Viktor, such a little thing. So delicate. You were sitting by a tree outside the university, diving into a huge tome of Henry James and scratching your nose like a kitten every now and then. I didn't realize that I was staring hard at you until it was too late and you were looking intently at me. Blushing. A predatory smile crawled into my mouth. i started walking towards you, and you blushed even more and looked around, whizzing for a way to escape. Oh, no, I wouldn't let you have that. I sat by you side and started talking about myself and the things I would do to you. You looked at me, apologized and trembled a little. Before I could do anything, you had already stood up and were ready to leave. The only thing I was able to do was ask your name in a fazed way.
You mumbled "Viktor Johanesson" And disappeared from sight. I was angry. So angry. Not with yourself, of course, but with myself. What had happened? Why had I been so unceremoniously rejected?
That only made me more determined to have you. I tried. For months I tried. After six months of chasing you through the campus and trying a direct approach, I came to terms with the fact that that just wouldn't work with you. This was a way to prove myself, to prove that no one could resist me. No one.
So I tried a different approach. I started wandering around your lessons, being there when you studied under your tree, studying at the table next to yours in the library. It was easy at the beginning. You would only stare at me with uneasiness and confusion written all over your face. Then, you would shake your head and focus on whatever it was you were doing. But then, as I started coming closer, sitting in your same table, by your side in the tree or giving you some piece of fruit outside your lessons, you started reciprocating a little as well. You started giving me little things: a smile there, a happy glance here. A little touch, just a brush of the pads of your fingers, but for me was enough. For a while. Then I just had an endless hunger for you, one that seemed to never be sated.
And then, just like that, you started talking to me. And that was what really had me. The talking. Your sweet voice, your confusion with some of the english words that were similar to swedish, your blush when I said something naughty. Your little smile when you talked about Sweden or your mom or your books. Your gaze when I talked about soccer and heavy metal music and politics.
And the laugh. When I got you to laugh, oh, man, that was really the deed. I always tried, since that first time when I made you laugh with my stupidity. Your laugh is so beautiful. A spark of life and wonderfulness. I could drink from it and gorge on it. So I always tried. And when I got it, I felt fulfilled in a way I never felt before. Just making you happy made me happy. It seemed sappy at the time and I rejected it the first times, saying to myself that I just wanted to fuck you, that it was only taking just a little more time than the others. But that was a blatant lie and I more than anyone knew it.
But I let it pass. And the days passed, and our picnics outside the university increased, and the times you looked at me scared decreased. I was happy. So one day I came to the realization that maybe I needed you more than I thought. And that wasn't so bad, after all. I wasn't about fucking now, it was about you and me.
And, like that, one day I promised to myself that I would be better. So I would be someway a little worthy of you. And I became better, indeed. It was hard, really hard. But I did it. Just for you.
So, one day I asked you out. Really asked you out. I told to you how I was feeling (though nor even I knew how I was feeling - I didn't realize it was love until a long way after) and you smiled sweetly and accepted. I thought I could jump with joy. We went out, movies, dinner, some clubs and to the beach at night. There I gave you my first kiss and there you told me how scared you were. I dismissed it with a smile and a hug and from then on we were on a relationship. Yeah, five years now, eh love? Shhh, don't worry. Everything's gonna be okay. Just wait for the ambulance, dear, everything's gonna be okay.
Six months went by, and we continued dating. I didn't ask you more that what you could give, and I accepted whatever it was like a precious gift. And then, you told me that maybe it was time for taking a step. A big one. I prepared it with care, waiting for the adequate day, for it to be your best night. I wanted you to see lights and rainbows and cry of sheer delight. Yeah, all that for you, dear. And it was that, at least for me. I saw colorful lights and rainbows and I cried, and I screamed and I shed tears. And I think that then I told you I loved you. I don't remember if it was just then or after a while, that's how the afterglow left me. But I remember that I meant it, mean it, with all my soul.
Next year we moved in together, taking it a step at a time, and the following Christmas we met family and friends. It seemed perfect, didn't it?
And then, the bullying began. I don't know exactly how, but I know for sure that it was my dismissal of them, regarding them as nothing more than words and stupidity that has brought us here. You wouldn't be here, lying on the floor with blood all over your face. So yeah, I beat them to death… what about it? Yeah, I know I shouldn't be proud of it. But they beat you. Badly. One has to be a monster to beat such a lovely creature, Vik. It must. Shhhh, don't cry. No, no, it doesn't make you a bad person, just a person at all. I will love you forever, sweetie, forever. No matter what. Yeah, no matter what. I promise.
Shhh, don't close your eyes. Keep staring at me. I can hear the ambulance. Hold on a minute more, dear. Just a minute. For me. Yeah? I do too. A lot. A shitload more than you think. Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry. No swearing. I love you. Keep looking at me! Keep… Please. Please. I love you. For me?