He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, perfectly positioned just as he’d been told.
Standing in the corner of the living room, hands clasped behind his back, as life moves on around him.
Miss had tried to trick him, before. Patting the sofa seat next to her, an offer to sit down. Holding out a cup of tea, saying it was still warm. All these little temptations hadn’t worked. He knew better, he was better.
He was safer, there in the corner of the room. His joints ached and his muscles burned but his mind could go blissfully blank. Most of the time.
Miss had a friend over. They were talking quietly in the front room, he couldn’t hear what might be said but that wasn’t his business anyway.
When they both walked into the room, he stiffened further, casting his eyes to the floor.
“Do you really think…?” Miss whispered to her friend, and he hoped it wasn’t anything to do with him, but when they both looked up, directly at him… that hope was gone.
“Um- I want you to come sit in the chair there. Go sit in that chair.”
She pointed to a big, squashy, luxuriously comfortable looking chair, diagonal from the couch.
His heart dropped, but he nodded. This was an order, no mistake about it. If he was punished for following an order, then- then it wasn’t really about obedience then was it? And there’d be nothing he could have done anyway.
He crossed the room, and carefully, carefully, sat down. It was harder, to be poised and keep his posture correct, if anything, it was more painful than standing, but he would do it.
Miss looked to her friend, mouth open slightly, as if shocked that he had obeyed. He felt faintly embarrassed, like he needed to prove now that he was obedient, this was just the first real order he’d been given.
“Okay,” she turned back to him, “Now, um… I want you to relax. Lean back, whatever is comfortable, please. Relax, that’s an order.”
He had to hold back a wry smile at that. Authority didn’t seem to come naturally to her, but…
He tried, he really did, to relax. His back popped audibly as he leaned back, and both Miss and her friend raised their eyebrows, looking… worried?
It felt…unnatural. Vulnerable. To be sitting, “relaxed”, with them standing only a few yards away. He hoped they would sit down.
“Good. Good job, you’re doing great, thank you.”
Her voice was gentle, genuine, and now… oh.
Suddenly he was holding back tears. It had been… it had been so long since he’d been good…
Miss and her friend sat down, exchanging a look he didn’t understand, and switched on the TV.
He was glad for that. He needed a moment, before he fell apart, a moment to fight back tears before they could fall and give him away.
A few minutes passed, and he had almost gotten it under control when…
Miss turned, face falling as they accidentally locked eyes.
“Oh- Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-” her voice dropped with concern, and despite years of practice, he couldn’t find the threat in it.
It felt real, and his logic couldn’t fight that, or the tears that overcame all his restraint.
“Sorry-“ was all he could manage, before Miss was up and too close-
All his training was falling apart, even as he kept his hands at his sides, tense as a bowstring.
“No, no don’t be sorry, I-“ she dropped to her knees beside his feet, looking back at her friend as if for help before looking back at him, “I was just trying to figure out what to do, how to help you… If you don’t want to sit, you don’t have to, you can stand, anything you want-“
Tears were forming in her own eyes, which confused him further.
From behind Miss, her friend stood up, coming over a few steps but still keeping a few feet between them.
That seemed to have a kind of effect on her, she looked over, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, then looked towards the ceiling for a moment.
She let out a breath, looking back at him. “If there’s something wrong, or uncomfortable, I want you to tell me.”
He swallowed hard, and answered truthfully. “There is nothing wrong, Miss.”
“Then why- Please, tell me why you’re crying.”
That one was harder, it wouldn’t be something she would understand, which would mean more questions, more opportunities for error…
“I am-” he choked for only a moment, “I am glad to be good.”
