The Mist and the Lightning. Part 18 - стр. 2
Kors had no doubt that Nik really fell in love with him, he was obedient, gentle and agreeable. It seemed to Kors that his happy life with Iness had returned. Iness was just as beautiful, gentle and loving. And she was just as calm, silent and submissive. But Kors couldn’t forget what happened next, how short-lived his happiness was, and now he was afraid that this happiness would be taken away again, he was afraid on the edge of panic, to the point of trembling, and if he could, he would have tied Nik to himself and would not let him go for a single minute.
Kors loved his son very much, he was absolutely happy next to him, and at the same time he was afraid, wildly afraid of losing him. He tormented him with his vigilant attention and control, never letting go of himself, and followed him on his heels, even when Nik needed to be absent.
This fear of loss grew stronger every day. If earlier it loomed somewhere on the horizon, now it was approaching the same way as they themselves were approaching the Black City, closer and closer. Like a thundercloud, fear clouded the clear blue sky, predicting a thunderstorm and becoming an endless disturbing background, not letting go of Kors for a moment and poisoning moments of joy.
Nik didn’t show him any displeasure. Absolutely submissive, like a doll, he reminded Kors of a doll with his beautiful face, which was often motionless, relaxed, like a mask, without emotions or facial expressions. He looked like a doll with his transparent, like glass gray-blue beads, empty eyes framed by long, really doll-like eyelashes, and light long strands framing a white, like a porcelain face. Kors couldn’t take his eyes off him and, like a man possessed, he asked a hundred times a day: “Nik, do you love me? Nik, are you with me?” And Nik slowly turned his head, and a light, gentle smile appeared on his face, turned to Kors, and he invariably answered: “Yes. Yes, ”and froze again.
And at the same time, when during the day Nik covered his eyes with black glasses, put on a mask, and Kors could no longer see his eyes and could not admire his face, when Nik ceased to be a beautiful doll and his son from Iness, Kors loved him no less.
On the road, from time to time, unclean ones drove up to them. Nik quickly exchanged short phrases with them, and often, while communicating, he suddenly began to laugh hoarsely, a dull short laugh, bestial, inhuman. At these moments, Kors also loved him, because then he heard and understood that his Nik was still more close to the unclean ones than to people, that he was a dirty unclean, mindless drug addict and alcoholic, a criminal and human waste with a hoarse voice and hoarse laughter. But he loved his husky voice and wanted him, so dirty and finished, no less. He wanted him in any form: an obedient person, and a Demon, he wanted a beautiful doll and a dirty drug addict, evil and kind. Kors wanted both. His cock literally jumped up when Nik was talking to Zaf or Parky, when he laughed, and Kors heard this short hoarse laugh… and then Nik turned to Kors, apparently feeling his emotions, and said:
“Vkhitor, wkhat?”
And everything froze inside Kors from his endless “kh” and “sh”. Nik “heard” this, he laughed and talked with the unclean, and then, hearing this love from Kors, this mad lust, he turned to him, and Kors understood that he was looking at him through the black glass. Nik put a horizontally turned finger in a black glove to the mask at the level of his mouth and slightly raised it up, and Kors was already used to this “smile” of his and loved it too.