Page 10 of Daddy's Muse
He spoke to me. Hesmiledat me.
The moment was still suspended in my chest like a breath I hadn’t yet released. His voice still echoed around my head, soft and melodic, beautiful.
He had stood behind the counter at the diner, hair slightly mussed from his work, andseenme. I had been close enough to see the faint constellation of freckles dotted across his nose. I wondered if he knew the power that lay in the innocence he exuded and the calmness his words brought on in me.
This was progress. I had spent months learning his patterns, walking just behind his life like a shadow cast by no sun. I knew the routes he traveled on his way to his classes, to his dorm, to the diner, and to the library where he tutored other students. I knew the way he likes to sit with his knees drawn up when hereads alone under the trees near Woodburn Circle. I knew the way he always chewed his straws when he was nervous, and that his smile could be either hesitant or unabashed.
I already knew him better than any of his regular acquaintances.
But earlier was the first moment I had actually existed inside his world. I was not a ghost. I was a man sitting directly in front of him, conversing with him.
I decided, as I had left the diner, that I would make another sacrifice tonight. I would thank the old ones for this small mercy, this quiet turning of the tide—this gift.
Let others rot in the earth.
Let the bones pile high in the hills behind me.
He had no idea the shadows bent for him now. No idea that I had traced his name in Elder Futhark on birch bark and soaked the runestave in my own hot blood so that every lurking and insidious thing in this town would leave him alone.
After the first time I had seen him that night he’d slept outside in the snow, I’d begun to keep an eye on him. It had started with just watching him for a few minutes here and there. Just to see if I could figure out what his purpose was in my life.
After two weeks of the answer eluding me, I concluded that whatever his true purpose was, it was crystal clear that he would never be prey. And with him being so small, so weak, sohelpless, I became sure that I was supposed to protect him.
Once I got home from the diner, I lit the black-salt candles and laid out the offerings: a crow’s feather for sight unseen, a twist of yew for death deferred, and a fragment of quartz to hold the boy’s light. I smiled as I thought of the last man whose begging had turned shrill within these same walls only a few nights ago. Colby would never know of the things I’d done for him. He was too pure for my darkness, my desires.
I hadn’t planned to get close to him; in fact, I had initially wanted to stay far away while still watching over him.
But I was selfish, and that’s why I’d gone into the diner, knowing he’d be working. I figured that talking to him for a little bit would quell my thirst, and then I’d be able to continue my work from the shadows.
Now that I’d gone and done it, though, I was worried that it had only made my thirst infinitely stronger. I wanted more of him. More talking, more times when I could see each individual hair on his head, more sweet smiles, and flushed cheeks.
He reminded me of a baby bunny—a kit.
Kits can die of fright if a wolf so much as brushes the grass beside them. The thought knotted itself around my ribs as I set the yew branch to smolder and watched the smoke curl like serpents toward the rafters. One misstep, one careless surge of hunger, and the warding runes I cradled him with would turn to binding chains instead.
Tomorrow, before dawn, I would leave a tithe outside the diner’s back door—three juniper berries strung on red thread, Algiz burnt into the knot. Harmless, pretty, and easily dismissed as some Appalachian charm. If he pockets it, the protection will deepen; if he throws it away, no harm done.Thatis how I must move: small, almost invisible ripples.
I could return during his slow hours, feigning confusion with the menu so he leans closer, allowing his sleeve to brush mine, just to feel the warmth of him without taking anything more. Conversation should be safe, as long as I don’t push any boundaries. Yet I know that the closer I stand to his light, the darker my own edges will feel.
I wanted him to graduate, find a place where the sun stays long on his shoulders and feeds his freckles, maybe even find a lover, and never learn about what I’ve done. And as much asI wanted to join him in that life, I worried about tainting his innocence.
Sighing heavily, I left my altar and ambled towards the bathroom. After turning the shower faucet to the hot setting, I stripped and stepped under the spray of water. As I soaped up, I thought of how Colby would view my body. I was considerably larger than he was in every way. Maybe he’d appreciate our size difference? I shook those thoughts away as quickly as they came, not wanting lust to get the best of me.
I scowled down at my hard cock. I wasn’t against jerking one out, I did it all the time, but I knew if I tried now,someone’sface would come to mind, someone’s sweet doe eyes and pouty lips. So instead, I turned the faucet to cold and focused on washing, willing my erection to wilt.
* * *
I went about the next few days as usual, staying out of Colby’s sight as I periodically checked in on him.
He’d taken the tithe I’d left outside the diner the other day. I was starting to wish I’d recorded his reaction, because it just wasn’t the same replaying it in my head.
He’d almost stepped on it, only noticing it as his foot was off the ground. He’d stepped back, tilted his head a little, and knelt to pick it up. His lips had made a precious o-shape as he turned it in his fingers, and then he’d said to himself, “Whoa, I wonder if a bird left this here?”
He’d smiled brightly and carefully placed the small offering into his coat pocket before unlocking the back door and stepping inside to start his shift.
The next few days seemed to have gone okay for him as far as I could tell. It was apparent how tired he was, but his classes were going well, and he hadn’t had any issues at work.
I had been cutting through the alley behind his dorm building when I’d heard his voice. Muffled. Uneven. The kind of voice you only make when you’re trying not to cry but failing. I froze where I was, sharpening my ears to hear what was going on.
