The Beast and Me by D. S. Wrights Page A

need to calm down or I will puke. And I need to focus. They will take me today. I’m pretty sure they will. I have to focus on that. I don’t... no... strangely, it’s not the sex I look forward to, it’s really him. I just want to touch him, in fact, and have him close, holding me. He’s the only one actually giving me warmth, like he’s the only one really caring. Peter doesn’t, it’s his job, and I’m pretty sure they have told him to be nice.
    Maybe he thinks I’m cute, ha-ha. No.
     
    Dinner. I can barely swallow. I’m not even hungry.
    Yes, Peter brought it again and I asked him why.
    “Because it’s polite and at least someone has to treat you like a human”, he answered smiling lightly.
    I think he really meant what he said. Well, thanks.
    Still, I doubt that it’s not White being behind this.
     
    They didn’t take me. I didn’t do anything wrong, right? They would have told me. White would have come with his smug smirk and disabuse me, right?
    But I forgot. I’m the reward, right? What if he did something wrong and doesn’t get to see me because of it?
    I mean, that would be an explanation why I get to see Peter but he – my Beast – doesn’t get to see me.
    What if he suffers even more than me?
    I feel so bad, so bad for him.
     
    I almost knocked to ask Peter if my beast was okay.
    I can’t do that. I can’t show them how much I need him. And I cannot trust him – Peter – he’s one of them.
     

Day 42
    I was impolite, so this time when Peter brought me my Breakfast, I said “thank you”. Fate rewarded me with realizing that he doesn’t close the door when he enters.
    First, I thought that was because he might be guarding my door alone, and that no one would be there to answer his knocking. And I told myself that I shouldn’t have a bad conscience because of thinking that, right?
    Until I realized that he has a wristband which he can scan against the display next to the switch. Still, I wonder why he keeps the door open.
    The only explanation I came up with was for the same reason my Mom always wanted me to keep the door open when I had male visits: so that she felt sure nothing inside my room happened.
    It’s a strange thought. Maybe he wants me to feel safe?
     
    It’s him and another guy who brings me to the gym and back to my room. His partner is older and always has this moody expression on his face, like he either is chewing a lemon or hasn’t slept well. He doesn’t look at me, or talk to me and Peter doesn’t as well when that man is with him.
    I’ll call him Gray, because his hair is getting gray.
     
    Peter asked me again if I needed anything when bringing me Lunch, again the door staying open, and I had the feeling that Gray was waiting outside, but to be sure I would have to look and that would have appeared to be odd and definitely suspicious. They surely do not want me to act suspiciously.
    “Are you even allowed to talk to me?” I responded instead and he chuckled – this damned chuckle.
    “Yes, I am, I was even told to, so that you’d like me”, he answered surprisingly honest and of course I couldn’t hold back my expression of rising one eyebrow and dropping my mouth open.
    I didn’t anticipate that he would admit it and he seemingly didn’t expect his own reaction, because he quickly dropped his glance.
    “Who, White?” I asked and naturally confused him, because obviously ‘White’ was a name that I had chosen. “The scientist”, I tried to explain, “the guy who seems to be in charge here and comes to talk to me now and then.”
    “Oh, yeah” – again this freaking sweet chuckle. “Yes. It was him, and you’re right about him”, he responded, and I noticed with another crooked brow that Peter avoided naming him. “However, he thought you would deserve at least one normal person around you from time to time. Someone, who isn’t him, because you obviously don’t trust the guy, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t if I were