Obscurity: Against All Fae Odds

Nineteen.
Nineteen was the first time I felt him watching me; the first time in my short years that I have ever truly felt safe.
He made me feel like I mattered, even as I was I lost in the world, drunk, and trying to find my place in all the wrong places. It was exciting, euphoric, and real.

Twenty-One.
Twenty-One is the first time I cried out for the person behind that secretive, inviting, caring, and fearsome gaze — the feeling of enraptured safety.

For so long, something so private was a source of calm, but now, it's nothing but voyeurism. A set of eyes that invaded my space, that hurt me, breaking an unmade promise, listening, but not hearing.

How is it at the same time they’re too, a sense of comfort, a calm in the storm?

I scream my unheard dreams to them, my secret passions and my woeful cries of pain as I feel them watching my every move from afar. When will they save me, when will they hear my pleas, can they?

Save me, release me from the torment you’ve bonded me to, make me yours, let me see you.

Let me live.