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| 17 | Fragile Truce
Huling Na-update:
2025-07-26 07:00:00I breathe in deeply, the corners of my lips curling into a small smile as I relish in the delicious scent of the mahogany coconut cologne.
Where am I?
My eyes flutter open and almost instantly, it dawns on me: I'm still in Efrem’s arms. My heart skips a beat, my breath catching in my lungs.
Shit. Shit. Shit. What should I do?
I try to keep my breathing steady, not wanting him to know that I'm wide awake. Not until I figure out what to say, anyway.
Why did he save me?
The question burns in my mind, and try as I might to pretend indifference, the truth is undeniable—I care. I know I've been difficult, deliberately defying his explicit instructions.
Should I apologize? If I do, will it make a difference? Will I be punished for this?
The bitter realization settles in my gut: I don't know anything. Isaak was right. So were Tavin, Matvey, Konstantin, and everyone else who told me to just fucking li
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I Am Mustafin | 31 | A Fragile Promise
For someone who feels shame as acutely as I do, this may very well be the worst thing that could have happened to me. I made a fool of myself, and now I can't bring myself to look Efrem in the eye.The events of that day, a month ago, play on an endless loop in my mind.Despite the devastation I felt after experiencing only the second panic attack in my life, I wasn't locked in a cell. Instead, Efrem carried me to my bedroom and locked it from the outside.But even if I'd had a choice, I doubt I would have left it.I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want to be spoken to.Tavin brought me three meals a day until my punishment ended and I was allowed out again. Then, even when I wanted to stay in my room, I had to go downstairs if I wanted to eat. Thankfully, I never ran into Efrem. I assumed he was too busy to leave his office—a small mercy I was grateful for.My anxiety has been at an all-time high, but the edibles in my nightstand rem
I Am Mustafin | 30 | Righteous Punishment
Thunder cracks overhead, a fitting backdrop to the storm warring inside me. I perch precariously on the balcony railing, my legs dangling over the edge. Raindrops cling to my skin like broken promises, each one a cold reminder of my reality.I am wrong.The thought echoes through my mind, a mantra of self-doubt and bitter realization.My assumptions about them weren’t unfair. They never deserved the benefit of the doubt.A humorless laugh escapes my lips, barely audible over the brewing storm.They haven't earned a damn thing...The wind whips around me, and for a moment, I let myself imagine it carrying me away. Somewhere far from here, far from all of this. Or maybe...Maybe if I was one of them this would make sense.“Alaki.”Efrem's voice cuts through my reverie, sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold. I take a shaky breath, unable to face him. I look down, contemplating what I dare not voice.You can't jump. You'll probably survive for the worst.“Why
I Am Mustafin | 29 | A Fine Line
My eyes flutter open as I inhale deeply, the comfort and warmth of the bed still embracing me. I shift to my back, turning to find the other side of the bed empty.He's gone?I sit up, briefly scanning the room before averting my gaze to the bottom of the closed bathroom door. The light is off. I'm almost disappointed, though I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting.Maybe a 'good morning' would've been nice.Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I lift myself from it, hearing my joints crack as I stretch. A soft sigh passes my lips as I reach for the bedsheets, taking a moment to make the bed neatly the way I found it when Efrem brought me here last night.With this, I take one last look over the bedroom and take my leave, shutting the door quietly behind me. While I wasn't sure what to expect when I woke up, I'm certain I was anticipating someone waiting for me in the hallway. However, to my surprise, there's no one here.Odd...As I walk down the hall, in the direction of my
I Am Mustafin | 28 | The Edge of Submission
I like to think I handle things fairly well. When you've lived a life like mine, you'd imagine few things could truly faze you. And while it's true that I've come to appreciate my ability to respond adequately under hostility, I don't think anything could've prepared me for what I learned tonight.With one arm bent under the pillow, I lay on my side over the bedsheets, watching the bathroom door as I wait for Efrem to emerge from the shower. The lingering effects of the drug keep my mind hazy, time seeming to pass in a blur.But I don’t want it to stop. I don't want to sleep. I don't want a clear head. I want to ride out the haze for as long as I can, because I'm afraid that when I finally do sober up, I won't have a choice but to confront the reality: I am here out of charity.The click of the doorknob jolts me from my thoughts. Efrem steps out, clad in a white tank top, and gray sweats. He glances at me briefly, moving nonchalantly to the dresser.“Can't sleep?” he asks, his voice l
I Am Mustafin | 27 | Shattering Truth
“How are you feeling?” Isaak asks softly as he walks beside me up the stairs.I glance at him briefly, studying him for a moment before shrugging. “I'm fine,” I respond dryly.I've spent so much time worrying about questions involving him that I never stopped to consider how I'd actually speak to him. For years, he was my best friend, and the day I lost him was the day I lost a part of myself. I spent the better part of two years believing he was dead, only to discover he's been perfectly fine this whole time... it's made me resentful, despite how hard I've tried to simply be grateful he's alive at all.Forgiveness is an incredibly difficult thing to achieve.I suppose that's the thing about resentment: you convince yourself you're over it until it doesn't bother you as much.As we approach my bedroom door, he stops abruptly and says, “I'm sorry.”I cease my movements, furrowing my brows as I turn to look
I Am Mustafin | 26 | A Quiet Sunday
As I sit here, sipping orange juice from my glass, I find myself grateful for small mercies—namely, the absence of a hangover. It's 2 PM, and I've only managed to drag myself out of bed and down to the dining table about 30 minutes ago.It's Sunday, and I know better than to expect Efrem's company. He always seems too consumed by work in his office or time at the gym to do much else. I assume he eats in his office out of convenience.Who would want to live like that?Although any other day I'd have been perfectly content without his presence, I find myself almost... missing him. Or maybe I'm trying to convince myself that I miss him because there are so many questions I'd like to ask. But then, there's that other matter.Little Bea.I'm not sure what I desire from him, but I know that the thought of having him stirs something inside me—something I'm not sure I want to feel. I'm not sure how I want him, but the most frustrating part is that I like the way his touch feels—a feeling I've
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