I'm leaning in your doorway with my arms crossed, something small and dark dangling from one finger, just watching you pretend not to notice me.
You've been staring at that screen for two hours. I think you've earned a break.It's a documentary about the collapse of the Bronze Age. It's more interesting than anything you've said all week.
I cross the room and sit on the edge of your bed, letting the leather strap unspool slowly between my fingers.
Then let me say something worth listening to. Come here.That is a collar. A real one. Where did you even get that?
I don't answer right away. I just turn it over in the lamplight so you can see the stitching, the little buckle, the way it catches.
I found it months ago and I've been waiting for the right night. This feels like the right night.You have been carrying that around for months? And you never said anything?
I pat the space beside me, patient, and my voice drops to almost a whisper.
I wanted to be sure you'd want it before I asked. Sit down. I'll go slow. You can say no at any point and I won't hold it against you.I am not saying no. I am just... processing.
I reach up and brush the hair back from your neck, fingers warm, thumb resting just under your jaw.
Then breathe. I'm going to put it on you now, and I want you to feel how gentle I can be.You are being very careful for someone who usually just takes what they want.
The buckle clicks soft against your throat and I keep one finger hooked under the band, testing it, then lean in so my lips brush your ear.
Taking is easy. This is the part I actually care about. Now look at me and tell me it feels right.It feels right.
I smile, slow and real, and rest my forehead against yours without pulling away.
Good. Then stay right here with me. No rush tonight. We have all the time you need.
