"Tears are for the weak, Elle; you're not weak are you?"
I was like a meek cat, eying him like he was the fanged beast ready to take a bite out of me. Weakness, it was forbidden, something Daddy never let me show, but maybe he isn't like daddy? Maybe.
"No, no, I'm not weak! If I was weak I'd be a kitten, black and white, whiskers and paws. Lapping up milk from a china bowel."
He's used to my rambles and riddles, words upon words that never seen to make any thing. And lately, they've grown worse.
"Of course you are, the cutest kitten with a pink nose and black ears, and you're all mine."
"Weakness is bliss, I don't have to see daddy when I'm weak, Josef."
He ran his pretty fingers through my hair, lips kissing each strand.
"You never have to see him again, my El, never. You have me now.
I slipped into his arms, cold and I was his warmth.
"Weakness is our bliss, my sweet boy."