Moments with Sir – Promise

Sir steers me into the kitchen as we are getting ready for bed.  My back is against the refrigerator door, and he stands close to me.

He brings my hands up, palms together, between us, holding them between his own hands so he has to speak.  He looks at me for a long time then he says, “I need you to do something for me.”

I can’t use my hands either, so I nod and murmur, “Yes, Sir.”

“I’m going to ask two questions.  You will be honest.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Promise me.”

I swallow because I’m getting nervous, but I nod.  “I promise.”

He looks down at our hands, then looks back up, he looks haunted and my chest gets tight.

“Did I scare you last night?”

I take a breath.  Relieved.  I can answer this.  “No, Sir.”  I hold his gaze so he knows I’m being honest.  Then I remember I read an article that liars will make too much eye contact to compensate, and look down quickly, and silently curse an abundance of irritatingly incapacitating knowledge.

The pressure of his hands tightens and I look up again.  “You promised…”

“I am, I’m telling the truth!  I promise.  I was nervous sometimes but I wasn’t scared.”

He looks at me again, and I try to shove the article out of my mind, but the damage is done and I can’t decide what to do with my eyes.

“Shadow,” (but he used my real name), “did I hurt you last night?”

I open my mouth to answer, his eyes are fixed on my face, I am about to say “no” but… he made me promise to tell the truth and… obviously… I was… hurt… but he didn’t *hurt me*.  For a moment I see his eyebrows furrow with worry at my hesitation, then, suddenly, he narrows his eyes.

“Did I hurt you in any way I didn’t intend to hurt you?”

I love Sir!

Relieved, I shake my head quickly.  “No Sir!  But a lot in the intended way!”

His tongue slips into his cheek for a moment as he nods, looking bemused.  Then he lifts my hands to the hollow of my throat, lifting my collar and slipping the pendant between my fingers.  “Swear it on our relationship.”

I swallow, the playfulness of the moment suddenly sucked away into a vacuum.  Keeping the warm metal between my forefingers, I work the rest of my hands around one of his and look into his eyes (article be damned.)  “I swear, Sir.  Our relationship means too much to me to lie to you about this.”

He looks at me for another moment.  I feel lingering uncertainty.  I pull my hands free to sign to him.

“Remember when I told you and got you in trouble with K?”

His lips quirk.  “That was different…”

“Yes!  You were much scarier then!  But I told you I was uncomfortable and I didn’t feel safe.  Remember?”

He chews his lower lip and nods.

When he looks at me again, I can see the subtle tension has left his eyes.  “You didn’t get me in trouble with K, I did that myself.”

I shrug one shoulder and give him a look as if to say, “If you say so…”

His eyes narrow and I regret it as he steps back and ushers me past him towards the stairs.  I cringe, and he raises an eyebrow.

Shit…

I scuttle as quickly as I can, but I can’t escape his hand cracking against the seat of my jeans as I pass him and I yelp and whimper as my battered nerves curse me in their indignation.

But Sir is okay…

So I smile privately as I rub my backside and scramble up the stairs.