PSOH 'Cake…Too Much Can Cause Nightmares'
Woo Fei shifted in his sleep, frowning, murmuring. His hands flexed, clenching and then spreading wide against the still air, fingers forcefully shoving the oxygen molecules away, clawing at the formless fear that dogged him in the early hours of winter's chill dawn.
He turned over, fretfully, nearly surfacing from the nightmare, and then settled back, hauling the bedclothes up and about his pajama-clad body, wrapping his arms about himself in a comforting hug, sliding deeper, deeper into a fitful sleep.
But the vision of cold, cruel eyes – one a clear, pure violet, one the gold of the midday sun – still hovered before him. His dreaming self was transfixed. There was no escape.
He was afraid. He could not bear to lose what that terrible gaze would take from him. He could not live if he lost it.
He had said so, over and over, begging in a hoarse whisper when he finally realized the danger, pleading to be allowed to keep his most precious memories, his dearest emotions.
"And why, Taizuu? What good will they do you? I hardly think my grandfather is interested in you. He often dallies, but it never lasts."
The Count's normally pleasant tenor voice was as frosty as his gaze, leaving Taizuu shivering in his seat, the teacup in his hand the only warmth for miles. The younger Count stood over him now, his beautiful mask of a face bearing a predatory smile that raised the all the hairs on Woo Fei's body in instinctive terror.
"No! I can't- you can't! It's not fair!"
He'd been afraid, horribly so, in the blink of eye. His not-so-innocent inquiry as to the whereabouts of the love-of-his-life had led to something entirely unexpected – the younger Count's sudden and terrible displeasure. Woo Fei, imperturbable businessman, had quaked in his shoes even as he cast about frantically for escape.
True, Taizuu had expected Count D to be unwilling to share his elder's location with him – after all, he'd been trying for months to winkle that information out, all to no avail. But still the determined landlord persisted, circling round the subject, leading up to it again and again so that one day he'd be able to pounce on his victim and victoriously wrest away what he so desired.
Those were the tactics he'd been taught - by his father, a past master at the art of getting what he wanted. All his life, Woo Fei had been faultlessly groomed to become a tiger in the world of business – strong and fierce and successful. And thus he'd expected to win, eventually, as he always had.
Certainly he'd never even entertained the possibility that he could be forced into a corner – literally wedged into the tight and uncomfortable juncture of the arm and back of the Pet Shop's overstuffed paisley couch – and terrified out of his wits by the slight, dapper form of a normally innocuous Count.
He couldn't move, not an inch, not a millimeter. He had no will left in his traitorous body to run, as every nerve wailed for him to do.
Those odd eyes promised only oblivion. And though Woo Fei hadn't the slightest clue how the Count would do it, he was utterly convinced that he could.
He'd take them: Taizuu's few and precious memories – the warmth of their one-and-only waltz at the masquerade party; the teasing, flirtatious exchanges he'd so adored; the recollections of a delicate touch from a fine-boned hand that burned right through to his skin, leaving him exposed and gasping; the simmering heat of molten gold eyes that had promised so many unspoken delights; the constant breathtaking thrill of knowing that he was entirely captivated by the most fascinating creature on earth – and his all newly found tenderness, his yearning, his deathless desire. His whole rebirth – as a self-directed man, as a passionate lover - all of it would be torn from him, cleansed, surgically erased. He would be left with nothing by the time Count D was through with him, as empty as he had been before.
"No!"
It had been a cry ripped from Woo Fei's soul, as his chin was tilted forcefully up, captured in steely fingertips hauntingly similar to his love's same manicured hand, his frightened brown eyes rabbiting away from purple-and-gold orbs of menacing beauty. He struggled fiercely against the greater will that threatened to swamp his own and calmly obliterate all that he held dear.
"No! Please don't! You don't have to do this - I know, alright? I get it! I know he's not interested; I know he doesn't – "
"Doesn't what, Taizuu?'
"Look, just listen to me, I beg you! I mean no harm! I wouldn't hurt a hair on his beautiful head – and I'm not going to do anything – I'm not going to bother him…or bother you. Don't you see? I only want—!"
"Want what, Taizuu? To be abandoned? To relish the agony of rejection? Hasn't that already become the case? Wouldn't it be better to forget this troublesome puppy love and move on, my dear landlord? You've already been denied. Be reasonable."
The cold, emotionless voice had assumed a soothing, inviting tone, so that Taizuu was half-dragged into it, lulled by the mirage of compassionate authority. His gaze widened and went dull, as he silently acknowledged the sharp teeth of truth.
Perhaps…but still, hadn't it been worth it? Taizuu asked himself silently. And when he had ever had a choice in the matter? It had been his willful heart that had followed the Count, not his good sense.
How could he bear to call it back, when it had found such a good keeper? How could he turn it off?
"So much less painful in the long run, Taizuu, forgetting. You should be grateful for this opportunity. I know you suffer."
Taizuu frantically shook his head at the word 'suffer', the edge of a manicured nail leaving a faint weal on his clean-shaven skin as he struggled. Unable to look away, his brown eyes pleaded, searching the set features for some slight sign of softening, but he found nothing but bland distaste.
"Don't! Don't do this! You can't just take it away from me – I can't live without him!"
He hadn't suffered – no, never! Not even when he'd thought he die if another second passed without seeing his love. It had all been good, better than anything ever before—
"Surely you have better things to do with your time than chasing after what you may not have? There are plenty of fish in the sea, especially for a man as wealthy and powerful as you, Taizuu. You don't have to exhaust yourself with this futile emotion."
Woo Fei closed his eyes in desperation then, shutting them tight against the giddy swirl of gold, trying by sheer will alone to stop his ringing ears against the lure of that beckoning voice.
"No…please. I beg you," he whimpered, hunching his shoulders down, drawing into himself, for it was all too much to handle now – this overwhelming pressure in his head, this terror.
"You wouldn't want to be a bother to him, would you?" Count D asked casually, brows arched in inquiry. Taizuu opened his eyes again, appalled, staring.
A bother? How could that be…when he loved his golden-eyed charmer more than life itself?
"He has no time for your whining, selfish demands, Taizuu. 'I want to see him, I want to talk to him, I want to know where he lives, I want, I want, I want,'" the Count mocked, in a tinny, whiney voice. Taizuu gasped but said nothing – it was true, all too true.
The Count cleared his throat and continued.
"Come now, you know he's a busy man. There are lovers aplenty waiting for him at home, all of them far more attractive than you'll ever be. You're only a nuisance to him, Taizuu, an impediment."
The pleasant voice degraded to a hiss. Taizuu flinched, for he knew.
"Admit it, then. Be a man about this and give up. Let me help you…forget."
Tears spilled from Woo Fei's dazzled eyes, trickled down his pale cheeks and dripping gently from his jaw. He swallowed again and again, sobbing soundlessly, a great lump filling his throat as the final barrier fell and the crystalline wall of his self-confidence shattered, pierced through by jealousy and despair, neglect and denial.
He knew. The Count did indeed regard him as a 'nuisance', a misguided, needy fool. He'd as much as said so, the last time they'd met. And there hadn't been a peep out of him since – no word, no call, no letter. Not even a second-hand message conveyed through his grandson.
The promise that Woo Fei had clung to as if it were a lifeline – it had been nothing to the one he loved so desperately but mere lip service, used to shake off an annoying insect.
He was that insect.
"He doesn't want you, Taizuu. You know that," purred the Count, the curl of his lip damning and malicious as he eyed the fog rising up the lenses of Taizuu's gold-rimmed glasses. The firm chin within his bruising grasp wobbled.
"You should be happy to give up. Where's your famous pride?"
Oh yes, he knew.
Hadn't he always been firmly a realist, after all? He was not so stupid that he hadn't realized it long before this earth-shattering moment, so many dreary days and nights ago that it had become second nature for him to acknowledge it, only to deny it with all his strength, turning his shuttered eyes turned firmly toward to a romantic dream. He didn't need anyone butting in now, to tell him what he already knew.
And he didn't need anyone trying to take away his dream, either.
And no – he had no pride left, not when it came to this.
A freshet of quick anger came to save him; help him resist the Count's siren call of forgetfulness. Taizuu opened his eyes once more, not caring if his nose were running and his vision blurry.
"So what?! So what if he doesn't want me? Why do you care, Count D? I'm not hurting anybody – I'm not getting in his way! And I'm not bothering you! Just leave me the hell alone—"
"And let this unfortunate situation continue, Taizuu?" Count D's voice sliced through Taizuu's anger as if it were so much fluff.
"Your sodden puppy-love is merely an annoyance to him…and you're making a fool of yourself, coming here every day. It's embarassing to watch, you know, the way you chase after him. Pitiable, really, and not at all in good taste. Admit it - you'll be doing both of you a favor if you simply walk away from this pointless exercise right now. You are nothing to him."
Taizuu flushed, gasping and wincing, shaking his head faintly in speechless protest, blinking back the welling tears.
But…he knew that, too – that he was utterly alone in this. His feelings were not returned. There was no love for him beating in the carefully guarded heart concealed beneath those elegant robes, only a faint affection, as one might feel for an adoring, slobberingly over-friendly dog.
If even that much, for it had been so long.
But it didn't matter.
Taizuu shook his head again, back and forth, but firmly this time, for it was the truth.
So what if it seemed foolish? Who cared if he was regarded as nothing more than a pain in the ass, a fool in love? At least he'd caught their attention, these Counts – at least he was not ignored entirely. And if it angered his tenant this much, then surely the Count would come to hear of it, too – his ardor, his vigil – and think of him. He could turn this to his advantage, as he had every obstacle in that past.
It was good thing, to be challenged like this. It only served to prove how serious he was.
….And, besides, the moment he had the address of that other Pet Shop, he'd be at the door, showering his reluctant lover with gifts of affection – red roses and rubies and chocolate cakes, fine silks and rare tea leaves—and wedging a foot in that door, shoe-horning himself inside.
But right now, this minute, he could only persevere and hope against hope for that one-in-a-million chance. This minute, this day he could attempt and connive, orchestrate and maneuver, lie, bribe and unashamedly, underhandedly seek to steal his way back into the Count's life, for that was how he was made.
Never give up. Always succeed.
And he was doing just that, living that, beavering away toward his goal, the grim reality set aside and ignored, despair locked away in the depths of his soul. He had a plan. He would follow it, no matter what.
He. He would resist, with everything in him, Count D's order – no, threat!– to give up. 'Forget? Stop'? Now, when he was finally real? How could be possibly do that? How could he even consider returning to that cold existence? He could no more do that than a butterfly could return to its chrysalis. It would surely kill him outright.
It only remained to convince his love's grandson of his sincerity and determination.
Sitting tall once more, straightening his shoulders, Taizuu tried again.
"Please listen! I'm not doing any harm, I swear! I only want the best for him – you know that much, right? Even if I seem to be overstepping my bounds, it's only because I love him! I want to think of him, care for him, wait for him. You have to let me have that much, you have to!"
"It won't hurt, Taizuu," Count D responded calmly, as if the storm of emotion that swirled around them simply didn't exist.
"You won't feel a thing – nor even remember this conversation. A blink of an eye and it will be all over. No more worries, no more pain," the Count soothed, and a keen observer might have glimpsed a hint of pity on his bland face for the suffering man before him. "It is for the best, I assure you."
Taizuu closed his eyes at the finality in Count D's voice, retreating deep within himself, searching for the will to resist the mellifluous words that would destroy his fragile happiness, the golden eye that would eviscerate his heart.
"Only look at me, if you please. Don't turn away."
"Please… don't… do… this," Taizuu whispered harshly, for his chest had been bound by some great force and he could only just manage to catch his breath. He ducked his chin down farther, hiding his ravaged face, fighting the punishing grip of the Count's talons.
"Don't take them away from me! I need him. I can't go back anymore. I can't give up. You might as well kill me now and get it over with, because I can't just stop—"
Never give up, never give in.
His mantra, his salvation, those courageous words. The fear melted away even as he tensed his body against the Count's felling blow, swallowed by the rising fever in his bloodstream, the dream he could do naught but follow, as Tamlyn had followed his Fairie Queen.
If he died at the hand of this terrible man, then so be it. Death would be a blessing, freeing him, allowing him to fly across the miles, to find his love, be with him, watch over him. It was all that he wanted, all that he needed in any case and if death was the only means, then he'd accept it…. And if he lived…if he lived, there would still be love, so deeply had it imprinted itself on his very bones.
He had nothing to worry about, for he loved. Heloved, and all was possible.
The younger Count stared, for an alarmingly sudden air of grace had descended on the sharp-cut features of his landlord, shuttering the tear-reddened brown eyes to any magic other than what he already carried within him. The instantaneous change startled Count D right out of his annoyance just as abruptly as Taizuu's wild accusation of murder had sent him there.
"Kill!?'"
Woo Fei didn't notice the Count's deeply offended glare, for in the darkness behind his lids was a sweet dream.
"Did you say 'kill'?" The Count's voice was utterly horrified. "Mercy!"
Taizuu only sighed, limp and unresisting, already gone well away.
If he waited, if he hoped, he might one day taste that delirium again. If he waited, if he loved, the Count would always have him as a refuge should he need it. He was a powerful man, even without his father. Every resource he had was the Count's, every penny, every favor owed him….and he'd be waiting for his chance. Fortunes changed, after all; perhaps even his love's would some day. If his business didn't do well-if he needed help raising his son-Taizuu might end up being the one the Count would rely on.
And, too, the Count had promised him he'd come back. For all his tricks, the man had never actually lied. He'd not told a falsehood, not outright. Taizuu would not doubt that now. He could not.
…..And perhaps Mr. Pinckney, his private eye over in the States, perhaps the useless man might finally get lucky and track down that other Pet Shop. Oh, and if that were to happen, by fortunate chance, he'd be on the next plane over, he'd be there—
There were so many possibilities, so many doors that might open. He could not give up now.
Comfort filled Neo Chinatown's strict overseer, blanketing his bleak reality with dreams soft as down, fancies fine as the first flight of snowflakes.
Nothing could make him forget. He loved. Loved. And there he'd thought himself incapable, but no. It was the opposite.
"Really, you actually believe that I could kill you?" The Count stamped a slipper in temper. The hand was abruptly withdrawn, the golden eye darkening, dulling. "I believe I'm owed an apology, Taizuu! At once."
"Ah?"
"Humph! I was merely attempting to save you some pain, Taizuu. I would never even think of harming you physically!"
"Ah! Sorry!"
"I should say so! Tut!"
Taizuu blinked in confusion, for he could have sworn his tenant had just – just threatened him? No! Couldn't be!
How odd. How weird to think that. The man was a harmless – well, relatively – eccentric. As if he would ever…! As if Taizuu would ever!
No, no. There was nothing out of the usual. Nothing at all. He blinked, just to make certain. The man in question was standing before him with a teapot, busy with replenishing Taizuu's cup. What had be been thinking? Taizuu wondered, wiping the stray moisture from his face without even realizing what it was.
"Tea?"
The younger Count smiled secretively, watching with barely concealed amusement as the landlord polished his glasses and blew his nose into a snowy white handkerchief, his thoughts shuttered behind half-closed eyes.
A twist, a touch, a nudge only, and still he had left this poor young man his dreams. Unwillingly, to be sure, but still—
Count D sincerely hoped his grandfather appreciated all the trouble he was being put to, fending off unwanted suitors. And this boy, too, this deranged young man who had the bad luck to be so smitten; SoFu had better feel responsible for that.
The Pet Shop owner rolled his lovely eyes skywards at the situation and abruptly resolved to aid his helpless landlord, just a little. It might make an end to this – and it certainly couldn't hurt!
Perhaps a letter, then. One more opportunity to plead his case and then Woo Fei would surely have to admit defeat…and D wouldn't have to get his hands dirty, as it were, messing about with sticky human emotions.
"More tea?"
In the pale light of dawn, Taizuu awoke, a quarter hour before his alarm would go off. He blinked and rubbed his weary eyes. Time to get up and run.
So tired.
He'd been dreaming – there were wisps of it still floating about his head. Tea…and fear. Pain…and a sense of reassurance, of achievement, as though he'd leapt some great hurdle entirely unaware.
He'd been terrified – and then not, just as quickly, steady again as fast as that mocking voice had thrown him off balance.
But still…it made him shiver, whatever it had been. He was glad it was only a dream.
It hadn't mattered, though. It hadn't changed anything.
"I miss you. Please come back to me soon," he whispered at the ceiling. "I want to see you."
The acanthus leaves and the pale cherubs made no reply, cast in plaster silence. Taizuu closed his eyes again, just for a moment, just to see him.
"I miss you so much," he told the equally alabaster form of his Count, who floated like a will o' wisp before him, retreating, always retreating. "I need to see you again soon. I love you."
The Count had his back turned, as he had when they'd last met, but now he glanced over his thin shoulder, a mischievous smile touching those red lips, so that Taizuu surged forward through the sticky stuff of dreams, throwing out his imaginary hands to grab at that graceful form and pull it toward him, burying his anxious face in the warm hollow between neck and shoulder. His damp cheek slipped on silk, soft and cool, and he inhaled the scent of the one he loved gratefully, joyfully.
"I'm here, you know, waiting all this time. I love you," he sighed into sweetly scented hair, "so turn around soon and look at me. See me. Think of me."
The Count murmured something inaudible, turning in Taizuu's ghostly hold, smiling fully now as though he were greatly pleased, golden eyes alight. Abruptly, Taizuu slept once more, exhausted, dropping weightless into the depth of those amazing eyes, happy to fall. When the alarm sounded a quarter of an hour later, he remembered none of it, not even that gorgeous smile, but still, he was oddly cheerful when he went off to run.