The unmistakably metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but the pain was so much more than just physical, the punch had vibrated right to his very soul. Ste braced himself for what he felt would surely be a heavy onslaught to his body, he tried to transport his mind to a safer happier place, but incredibly all he could conjure up was the slight twitch of a smile half-hidden by a moustache. A hand gently caressing his cheek, brushing the hair from his temple, moving to pull him in closer. The exquisite clash of lips, searching of tongues, complete surrender to another.
This image, these memories haunted Ste, he knew it was crazy but there was still no time in his life when he had felt as wanted, needed and desired, and crazier still happy. Ste almost choked out a manic laugh at his own thoughts, but another strike to his body drew all the breath from his body. Ste could not believe how delusional he had been. What had his tormenter asked of him? "You need to learn how to trust me eh?" What had his tormentor said to him? "I love you Stephen" And he had believed him, and trusted him, and given the whole of himself, body and heart to Brendan Brady.
How quickly the promises had been broken. Ste had to admit to himself that he still had no firm grasp of the swings in mood that Brendan could display. Throughout their relationship Ste could never be entirely sure what Brendan was thinking or how he would react. When Brendan used to push him up against a wall, or step right into Ste's personal space, or raise a hand toward him there had always been a level of doubt as to whether Ste was about to experience the lowest or highest moments of his life. But even now Ste found he could not question that the good times with Brendan had been the best times of his life, and that the thrill he had felt being with him had acted as an unrelenting force which always pulled him back into Brendan's dangerous but intoxicating orbit.
The blows to his body had now ceased, but Ste remained curled into a ball. He could hear heavy breathing nearby, but he didn't dare lift his head to look around. His mind was feeling increasingly fuzzy and was full of distorted images of Brendan and himself. Darkness seemed to be descending on him, but Brendan was still there in his mind shining like a light. He remembered how it felt when Brendan pulled him close, encircling him with strong arms like he was never going to let him go. The tingle that shot through his body every time he caught Brendan's eye or when Brendan would address him as 'Stephen' with a voice like crushed velvet. How his body felt like it had been set alight so strong were the sensations Brendan could induce in him when they were together.
Then he felt Brendan approach him slowly and reach out to him. Ste risked a glance, Brendan's eyes were glistening with tears, he gently wiped the blood from Ste's lip and pulled him up from the floor.
But then the images swam in front of his eyes again and the face now glaring down at Ste did not have the crystal blue eyes or smouldering dark stubble he so craved. The voice now speaking to him was not the sexy Irish lilt that could send his heart a flutter and his knees weak. The body that stood over him did not have the lean but muscled physique Ste knew so well. This man was not Ste's lover, tormentor, life. Ste felt the cold chain sitting round his neck and grasped the cross in his hand. Now he remembered.