There are many things, many emotions that day imagined he would feel and have when he finally managed to get his freedom.
Having a boyfriend wasn't one of them.
Not one that truly wasn't there because he loved him, but because he had been told to keep a leash on him, report back, and he would be rewarded heavily. Certainly not one that made out with their lovers and let them leave marks, for him to flaunt in public.
He doesn't even bother to hide anymore.
Day feels sick.
They are supposed to go to lunch, but he doesn't think he can survive another hour or so in front of Marcus, pretending to like his company and being interested in whatever he has to say.
He is asking day about his therapy session, and day is answering in monotone one-syllable responses, and yet ... he keeps on asking.
Day looks at him; really looks at him. he is driving, two hands on the wheel, the white shirt he is wearing is folded to his forearms to showcase them. Marcus isn't all that tall, but he isn't short either.
His body is on the swimmer's build side, his face is good enough, together with his haircut on the sides and a little longer at the top. He has the rich boy attitude, and with his good enough looks, it's enough to make people turn to look at him twice.
He has always looked like the kind of person born with a golden spoon and has fed into that energy. Even by just looking at him, day feels so alienated from the world that Marcus lives in. It's such a strange thing to imagine, but not so much.
Day has never lacked a thing in his life, and yet, he feels like he has grown up poor. Marcus has it all, all the freedom to do anything, being promised things, including day himself, and has no care in this world except perhaps what he will do in the next hour.
Day can't help but feel sad, all of a sudden. He is nothing but has always been paraded like he is worth so much, and yet he holds nothing inside.
He is a shell, painted gold, but if you really look inside, if you dare peer past the glimmering paint, all you will see is a crumbling, rusty thing, barely holding together.
He never had a chance to decide if he liked Marcus before his parents told him that he was intended for him.
Day remembers the first time that he met him. He had just turned sixteen. The first thing he noticed about him was how wrong he smelled. He doesn't know why that's the first thing he registered, but it was so present, his scent made him sneeze throughout the meeting.
His parents had to say it's the allergies. He was so sick at that period of his life, he truly doesn't remember doing much that whole year other than sleeping, and when he would have better energy levels, he would meet with Marcus.
He was the only person from outside that he was allowed to see and talk to. It was fine.
Marcus was a friend, a tether to a world he didn't know, and he was grateful even if a little about it. He made day laugh, and he also loved his drawings. There wasn't much to do, and he was, no, still is, a very boring person. Dull, but Marcus doesn't mind.
Well, perhaps he minds, and he just didn't show it to his face if the hickeys and that flowery scent he has on his clothes are an indication.
He must admit that, yes, he is a boring person. Naïve too, and knows nothing of passion and the wild affairs that Marcus seems to be into. The most they have done, despite being intended, is hold hands, and that was too much for day.
And yet …
And yet the longer day looks at him, smiling as he goes on and on about the uni that they will be attending together, about classes and whatnot, all he wants to do is hurt him.
He can picture it, how it would be so easy to hold the wheel and swivel the car. That would put him out of his misery. He hasn't felt such anger, such dark thoughts for a while, but right now, what he wouldn't give to see Marcus's stupid face not so smug anymore.
"You okay? You seem … agitated," Marcus looks at him, frowning.
Day is itching to ask him if he thought it was a good idea to start cheating on him, less than a week after moving to the city.
He wants to confront him about it and maybe hear what he has to say. The small part of him that isn't numb, that little tiny spark, is crying and wounded and wants to know why he isn't enough, even for him.
He feels so damn tired.
"I'm a little drained," Day says, exhaling and sinking further in the car seat. "I don't think I want to go to lunch anymore, if that's okay with you."
"We never go out," Marcus starts, hands tightening on the wheel. "I wanted us to have this, eat out in public for once. Why can't you at least do this for me?"
"I'm really tired, Marc, you know how being in that office for two hours makes me feel. I just want to nap. We can go to dinner," day's voice is gentle and sweet, as he tries to placate him.
"You know I have commitments at dinner," Day didn't know this.
"I can't make it tonight," he exhales, clearly still agitated. "I thought that when you came to the city, we would have more time to ourselves, where I would get to show you around, show you out to my friends."
"It's been only a few days, Marc," Day smiles as he reaches out to take his hand. Even if it's killing him. "I am still settling in, and the move is hard on my body. I am going to be a good boyfriend soon, just let me get acquainted with this weather and the chaotic life first, then we can do all kinds of things."
Marcus finally sighs, glancing at day before, turning back on the road. "You have been coddled too much," he says. "Kept away from so much. But it's okay, I will put you up to speed, and you will get more accustomed to life now."
"What commitments do you have for tonight?" day asks, focusing on the questions and not what he just said. If he does, he fears he might jump out of the moving car.
"Oh," Marcus looks out of his window for a second. "Just meeting some friends, nothing much. I haven't seen them since the last semester ended, and I want to catch up over drinks before school officially starts, you know?"
"That sounds nice."
"Yeah, you will meet them all, don't worry. They are your friends now, and they already know you."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, how could they not know I'm intended? Did I tell you how happy I am that you will be closer to me now?"
"Many times," Day forces out a smile as he presses his hands between his thighs.
"Don't worry too much, I will be with you all the time. Your parents trust me with you, so I will protect you. I know you haven't been out in the real world, but you are in good hands," his hand snakes to Day's thigh, squeezing a little hard before letting it rest there.
Heavy as lead.
"Do your … friends know anything about me other than being your fiancé?"
"Well, they know that you are my childhood friend and we have been together forever."
Not really forever.
"They also know that you aren't that social, that's why I had to tell them we will meet them in school, where I will officially introduce you to them. Yeah, that's it, pretty much. Why?"
"Oh, just curious. It's the first time that you are mentioning them."
"It's going to be okay."
Day really doubts it's going to be okay. He really, truly, doubts that.
"Before we head to the apartment, can we pass by the bakery near my place? I want to get some pastries to up my low sugar; if it's okay with you."
"Of course. You want me to come with you?" The hand still on the thigh squeezes again, and Day has to swallow down a scream.
Never, when Marcus visited, and they were allowed time alone, had he ever touched him like this.
Never has day allowed anyone to touch him like this except his doctor, and it's physically impossible for him to hold in the flinch and the disgust he feels rolling off him the longer that hand remains on his thigh.
Is it going to be like this now?
"No, it's okay," he manages to get out. "I will be in and out; you can just wait for me in the car."