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| Topic Started: Mar 23 2018, 04:51 AM (3 Views) | |
| basketkitty | Mar 23 2018, 04:51 AM Post #1 |
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"Hereby assign five years!" Standing back in the courtroom, I watched as the judge pounded his gavel. The young man he'd sentenced was a budding journalist, going to one of the best colleges in the country, and also did gigs at hotels for a little bit on the side. While on paper, it didn't sound like much, but when living a life like that, one couldn't really blame him for falling victim to the stress and the appeal of drug use. He was caught on campus with small vials of opium and needles. Of course, his lawyer had tried to follow the case of them being prescribed, but the prosecution was quick to prove that wrong. The man was healthy, just worn down and exhausted. From a medical standpoint, he had no need for the drug. It was purely as a relaxant; a recreational drug. The young man was surprisingly calm throughout the proceedings, including to the drive to the prison. Although 'depressed' might be a better term for it. Of course he'd lost the life he'd been working for with this charge. His journalistic integrity was gone, no college would want him anymore, no hotel would invite him to play from now on... It seemed to take a while for it all to settle into his mind. Or perhaps it had the moment he was caught. At the prison, I hand him to the guards at the lower district, and I go back to my usual post. It's not very often that I have to help with things other than patrolling, so I appreciate the short change in scenery. I just wish it was for more...fun things. I know that, when I applied for this job, I wasn't expecting rainbows and puppies (while I would love a job like that!)...but watching a man's life be torn up in front of his eyes was hard. It's all...very hard. But I have hope. It's not a big hope, of course. I know full well that a lot of the men I watch over are guilty of their crimes. But I want to see them get better. This was a prison, but also a correctional facility. I wanted to watch them get up from the gutter and become better people. It...doesn't really happen. But I continue to smile to them and hope. That same reason is why, the next day after my shift, I took a short detour through the lower district of the prison. It didn't take me long to find that college student. He was alone, huddled on his bed, shivering and sweating, his face pale and tinted slightly green. His eyes found mine quickly, tear-filled and desperate. He sniffed and choked, staring at me. ...I couldn't do anything, of course. But he was clearly sick, and in some desperate hope, I turned to the closest guard, asking if he could bring someone to look at the poor man. But there wasn't anything to be done. He should have known the consequences. The next day, I end up helping move the inmates from the lower district, to the courtyard for their dosage of exercise. It was a harrowing process, but I enjoyed seeing the looks of excitement on some of the prisoners' faces at the prospect of getting fresh air. However, partway through the process, I heard a yell down the hall. "Give me some now!!" More shouts followed, yells for backup, panic, tension. Several of the prisoners clearly wanted to try and make a break for it, hoping to use the confusion to their advantage. I sadly wasn't able to see what the issue was, as I was stuck being a guard keeping the other prisoners together. In the end, however...I discovered it was the journalist. In his anxiety-ridden state, he'd attacked his guard when refused his drugs. I was tasked with leading him (with the help of another guard) to my own district: High security. However, due to the suddenness of this whole situation, we didn't have a cell properly prepared for him. The only one available...belonged to one of the most dangerous prisoners on this level. ...But it was the only choice we had. We sent the man in, and the residing prisoner sat up from where he'd been sleeping. "This is Yuuki Shunya. He'll have to stay with you for a while until we can get him into his own cell." Speaking as clearly as I could, I watched the two men regard each other. The blue-eyed man stood, his expression soft. He beckoned for the journalist to lay down and I was filled with a sense of relief. Hopefully this cell won't need to be cleaned of blood anytime soon... For the next few days, things seemed to go alright for the newest addition to the district. Of course, he was just as sickly, but he was recovering with the help of his cellmate and his boyfriend. It wasn't very often that they were allowed out to explore the facilities, but whenever they did, I would often find the college boy with another blanket, or an extra bowl hidden under the bed. While I couldn't condone thievery...I supposed just this once I could thank that yellow-eyed devil. A week passing rather quickly given the slow days I often have, a cell was finally prepared, right across from the one Shunya was residing in. By that point, he was healthy again, and had somehow managed to survive longer than anyone else had with the blue-eyed man. The transferal was quick and painless, and as I headed back down the aisles, I could hear whispers of curiousity shooting through the cells. Had Akinori gone soft? Was he cheating on Fuyuki? Was this a ploy? A trick? You could never trust the quiet ones, after all... "Oh, you didn't die. That's good." Stepping into the cramped kitchen, I smile as a pair of lavender eyes glance my way. He doesn't turn towards me completely, but he doesn't need to. I step behind him, my hands on his waist, and I lightly kiss the back of his ear. No one is around right now. They don't need very many cooks right now, and there isn't a mess to clean... Right now, it was just me and him. "You were worried?" "You were." His reply is simple, and my eyes glance down again. My arms wrap around his body properly and I hug him. He hates being touched from behind, but at times like this, he doesn't give much choice. "You're too soft sometimes, Ryou, you know that?" "He's just a kid." "He's older than you. Honestly, with the way you go on about him, you sound more in love with him than anything." I feel the once warm, soft body in my arms grow cold for a moment, and my heart rapidly starts to sink. "You know that's not true! I love you more than anything!" I say, leaning around him, my arm resting on the counter edge as I try to look at his face. To try and get him to look at me. "Don't lean on that! That's still on!" Quickly turning towards me, the beautiful man grabbed my arm off the counter edge...and I finally noticed I'd put my elbow against a stove instead. Through the cloth of my jacket, I could feel a faint heat. "You're not burned are you? Idiot!! Watch what you're doing, your parents run a restaurant, don't they? You should know how to move around a kitchen by now!" His voice came out quick and hot, and his grip on my arm is firm...but on his cheeks and ears I see a tint of pink, and he fussed over my arm far longer than he needed to. He certainly was an enigma of a man... Despite all the months we've dated by now, I always discovered a new facet of his personality. And with each peek into how he worked, I always fell deeper into him. Like a fractal. "I love you~" Again, his blush deepens. It deepens even further as I tip his head up slightly, pressing my lips against his. As always, even such a simple act makes my body tingle and my head explode with vibrate colours and sounds, and I can't for the life of me think of a drug that could compare to this man. This beautiful, complicated, exciting man... "I'm sorry if I made you jealous...or I worried you... I don't plan on leaving you, you know. Not ever~" His eyes don't meet mine. But I don't mind. "I-idiot...don't make promises you can't keep..." "...Who said anything about not keeping it?" That night, he came home with me. He was tired of cooking, so I attempted to make dinner for the two of us. He criticized me about it as always, tearing through the meal with every critique and complaint he could think of. I laughed them off and reminding him that this was why I wasn't the chef. Sex that night was amazing as it always was with him, and in the morning, we slept in for as long as we pleased. He's usually on dinner duty and preparing things for breakfast in the mornings, and I often have the late afternoon shifts. Around noon, I get up, wash, and shaving my non-existent stubble. And despite us only dating for so long, my mind wanders off to marriage. We're not ready for it, no. I shouldn't think so, at least. But wouldn't it be nice? Always going home together, always waking up together...we'd have to get different jobs, though, if we wanted kids. I know he's interested in the prospect, and I wouldn't mind having a son at some point...but that future was far away right now. I wasn't fully happy with my current job...but I was content with it. So I don't plan on moving to a new one anytime soon. But if my boyfriend wanted me to...I would. Without a second thought, I would follow wherever he wanted to take me. While I'm dressing, I end up waking him up, and he groggily asks for the time. I give it to him, and kiss him good morning, and seriously consider calling in sick for both of us for today. But if I don't want to worry about jobs and the future, I can't shirk on my duties. Maybe tonight we can fool around a little in the halls. A fun, clandestine rendezvous... I resist the urge to kiss him deeper and instead pull away, smiling softly. "See you at work." |
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6:41 PM Jul 11