11

The day Maria Gomez had a child, she had been glad, but she hadn't expected it to be a boy, considering how the doctor did an ultrasound and told her it was a girl.

Nevertheless, Luciano, her husband, had been happy about it. He had lost a brother once so having a boy felt like he could make up for all the time that he didn't have with him.

Still, they had prepared for a girl so all the clothes and belongings were marked for one but Maria didn't mind.

So Mariposa Gomez became Marcos Gomez.

As a baby, he was lovely. Always so happy, and excited. Plus, he was the prettiest baby anyone ever laid their eyes on, but as time grew, it became more and more evident to the couple that their son... Wasn't exact what they thought he'd be.

Luciano tried to get him interested in the art of soccer, or football, or any sort of ball but the only thing Marcos seemed interested in that seemed boyish enough, were games.

Video games, which Luciano could never beat him at, no matter what.

Still, they loved him regardless of what he was, and as he grew, that was all he knew for a while, till he got into high school.

That, was a different case scenario. For someone who had only known love all of his life, the hate was new to him. Plus, it was the same time Luciano had gotten so deep into his gambling, leaving them in debt and died from a heart attack two months later.

There he was, a freak, with a Mother who he couldn't tell he was hurting because she was too busy trying to make sure he could go to school and pay the hanging debt over their heads.

Marcos wasn't even sure how he managed to alive after everything but the day he lost it, was some days after Julian's death and the bullying had gone worse.

Yes, the boy had made him miserable. Hurt him in ways he could never have the courage to tell anyone, but he hadn't expected him to go that far.

To... To do that to himself.

One second, he was being slammed and pushed around in the hall and the next, Marcos found himself in the hall that was closed down for heart purposes, crying his eyeballs out and having his panic attack.

But when he was so sure he would pass out from it, he could hear someone talking to me. A small voice, like an angel.

"Breathe for me, princess. I know you can do it."

Whether it was because of how she sounded, like she genuinely cared, or that no one had spoken to him so kindly before in a very long time, Marcos didn't know, but he did as she asked.

It took a while before he was calm, his surroundings now getting clearer. He was in a classroom, a classroom that he had never noticed before, and just a feet away from him was a dark skinned girl crouched to the floor, dressed in the biggest clothes he had ever seen with her full hair all over her body and face.

No one needed to tell him who she was.

Marcos knew Alexandra Parker but he didn't think anyone did justice with how beautiful she was. There was barely any light in the room but there was something about her.

Something that demanded his full attention, which was confusing, considering the fact she had no single emotion in his eyes.

She looked... Blank.

When he finally got to his senses, he realized she was the same girl that took the blame for what he did, and wanted to be far away as soon as possible. "O-Oh, I'm so sorry. I have to go. I h-have class —"

"It's fine, I told them you got a little bit sick so you'd be with me till I know you're alright."

And they agreed?

Marcos could tell from the look in her eyes that she meant what she said and it scared him. Why would the school listen to anyone? Especially a student?

"I'm not dangerous," She said it in a low tone, as if she could smell the fear coming off in waves from him. "We both know I've never hurt anyone before."

We both know...

Marcos' eyes widened.

She knew.

At that moment, he fought to stand and run away but she held me down. His hands pushed at her chest and he screamed for someone to help him but no one did, as always, and eventually he broke into sobs in defeat.

Yet, when that happened, she pulled him to her chest and said in a soothing voice, "It's okay, little one. I won't hurt you."

Marcos held her in return, his hands now wrapped around her body as he cried more. In minutes, he was settled again, now resting on the wall as he dried his tears with his hands. "I'm sorry, today isn't — A good day for me."

"I understand,"

"You're not — You're not upset?" He asked.

"Should I be?"

"I don't — I don't know," He sniffed. "I didn't mean to. I was just trying to get him away from me. To make me stop remembering —"

Alex tilted her head. "Remembering what?"

He froze.

"Marcos?"

He was shaking his head now.  "Nothing. Nothing, I don't—"

Her dull eyes suddenly sparked with something similar to rage in them. "Tell me."

He swallowed now, looking down. "You won't believe me,"

The rage died to something more of sparks. "Try me."

When he spoke, he sounded like a child that was scared that whatever he said, would put in deeper trouble than he already was. "He— He hurt me."

"In what way?"

"I don't know," He was shaking his head, trying to push the memories floating up. "Please, stop asking —"

"I need to know."

"It's not important,"

Alex didn't seem to like that one bit. "Of course, it is. Tell me, or I swear to God I'd —"

"He raped me!" He suddenly blurted out and then continued in one breath, "And it hurt, it hurt so bad I wanted to kill him! That I wanted to make him pay! But now— But now he's dead and it's all my fault."

There was silence between them for a while and when she did speak, her hand was on his face. "Good,"

He looked at her. "What?"

"That gets rid of the problem for me." She stated in a very cool tone.

"Didn't you hear me? I killed him."

"Did you hold a gun to his head?"

"No, but —"

"It's like people blaming the devil for the choices they made. They keep saying it's his existence that makes them sin, but in all truth, they make themselves do what they do. Plus, you did nothing, you're too good for that. Those other fools did. Don't beat yourself over it."

Marcos found himself staring at her like she was from another universe. She didn't know him, and yet, she seemed to defend him like she did.

"But everyone does see me as the bad person anyway,"

Marcos' stomach lurched. "I'm sorry, I didn't —"

"It's fine," She cut in. "But I'd need a favour from you, if you'd want me to keep taking the blame for you."

Of course, she'd want something.

"I need a Sub."

He stared wide eyed in absolute confusion and innocence. "A... What?"

"It is a short term for the word Submissive," Then she stared at him for a few seconds. "Have you never heard of bdsm before?"

He shook his head.

"Shit," She facepalmed and then raked a hand in her hair. "Well, this is all pointless, then. I can't exactly tell you all about it right now."

At those words, Marcos panicked. He didn't know why, but he didn't want her to send him away. Whatever they were having now, seemed to make him forget about what was happening outside.

He didn't want to go back.

So he repeated the same thing she told him. "Try me."

At those words, she looked at him for a few minutes then sighed. "It's Bondage, Discipline or Dominant, Sadomasochism or Submissive and Masochism. In my own case, I'd be your Dominant and you'd be my submissive. I, or this situation rather, is usually called femdom."

"Female dominant."

She nodded. "Yes,"

"What do Subs do?"

"They're different, for every Dom, but with you, my rules wouldn't be too much. My stepfather wants me having a sub for our training and he keeps bringing people I don't like. If I present you, I'm sure he'd be pleased."

"Just that?"

"Well, you'd have to undergo the training for a while, but I won't do anything too forward. I promise."

"How are you sure I'm even submissive?"

There was amusement in her eyes at those words before she said, "Stand,"

He did so.

"Kneel, and come closer."

He obeyed. This time, their faces were just inches away and there was a gentle smile on her face as she reached out and brushed his face. "Good boy,"

It was the first time he felt that, whatever that was, and the urge to lean into her hand and let her do whatever she wanted him had him jolting away and staring at her in fear. "What— What did you to me?"

"I was showing you how submissive you already are," She replied. "It'd make the training faster so I can set you free earlier. You don't have to do it, though."

"How am I sure you won't —" Take advantage of me. "Hurt me?"

Her eyes narrowed as she said in a low growl. "As your Dominant, my priority is to make sure you're protected and well pleased to be the best of my abilities. I'd never hurt you or let any other person do so."

It sounded so true, but yet so hard to believe, and just as if she had seen the uncertainty in his eyes, the pissed one in hers simmered down as she said softly, "I'd give you time to think about it, but I'd need an answer soon, okay?"

He nodded.

She gave him a small smile in return. "Goodbye, Eros."

As he stood to leave, he paused and looked at her. "Eros?"

"He's the Greek god of desire," She replied. "You probably don't know it yet, but you're the most desirable person I've ever met. Still, if the name upsets you —"

"No," He breathed out. Desire? Did she just call him, world's number one loser, a god of desire? "No, it doesn't."

"Alright,"

"What should I call you then?"

"Alex, for now."

The next day after Marcos had slept and woken, he had felt everything had been a dream, probably all made in his jumbled head, but when he got to school and heard what Ace said, he got to that same class.

And there she was. "Did you— Did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make them stop— Hurting me,"

She stared at him like he was extremely retarded. "I promised no one would hurt you. Even if you refused to be mine, and I meant it. I'm not a liar, Eros. Lying is the one thing I can't do."

That name again...

Of course, he agreed eventually, and he met Alexander 'Xander' Gomez, who was ecstatic to see him.

Their trainings were... Both a mixture of pain and pleasure and though she promised never to hurt him, there were times during it that she had to, for his own good, but she always asked for his consent regardless.

And there were other times that she hurt him, without meaning to. For example, when he couldn't be with her when she wanted, or demanded for him. When he refused to take her gifts. When he tried knowing more about her, but he forgave her for all that.

Alex wasn't a happy person, but in time, he knew that he made her happy. He wasn't stupid to how she acted during aftercare, like she feared releasing him, and though they didn't even have sex, she still acted like he was fragile.

In some months, Marcos had learnt more about bdsm and wanted something else.

Which Alex blatantly refused. "No."

"But —"

"I'm not pegging you," She cut in, an adamant look in her eyes. "Get that thought out of your head."

"I want it. We always do what you want, what about I want?"

Her eyes narrowed and fear spiked through Marcos' heart at the gesture. "Are you saying that I've never taken into consideration what you want?"

"No. I'm saying that I'm not as fragile as tot make me look, Mistress." He replied, with a pleading look in his eyes. "I can take it. I can handle it. I know you wouldn't hurt me unless I deserve it."

"You don't deserve it, but I won't."

It took a while, but she did.

And she worshipped him. As if she was trying to wipe out any trace of Julian from his body, soul, and mind, and he let her. He let her do all she wanted, because she made him feel whole.

She made him feel like he was actually a god.

After that day, the gifts increased. First, they were just clothes, clothes he wanted but would never dare get, then lingerie, then a make-up set, but nothing she did compared to the clips.

He had once told her that before he was born, his parents settled on calling him Mariposa but since he was a boy and all his clothes were already marked with a MAR, they called him Marcos instead.

One day, she was seated in his bed, him beside her when she said, "I have a gift for you, love."

He poured. "You keep spoiling me,"

"You deserve it." She said with a note of finality before she showed him the things in her hand. "Here."

A pink and white butterfly clip. "Butterflies have always meant transformation. Change. Hope. And I look at you, and I know you've come a long way from the boy I met in the past. So I want you to have them, for you to keep being proud of yourself and what you've become."

It was the least expensive thing she had ever gotten him, and yet —.

"And oh, please date me."

He looked at her in shock now as she continued, "I know that I'm not the best at emotionally expressing myself but I do care about you, a lot. And— And this is crappy, I've never been put in a position like this..."

"I love you."

She stared at him like she just got a heart attack. "What?"

"It's what—" He tried to calm his beating heart. "Y-You're supposed to say."

"Would it make you date me?" She whispered. "Not that it's not true, but would it?"

He nodded and repeated his earlier words. "Say it,"

"I love you."

His heart seemed to freeze for a few seconds but it continued, beating faster as he leaned closer to her. "Again,"

"I love you," Then she laughed, pining him down and kissing him all over his face. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."

And she did. He saw it, felt it.

She didn't deserve this betrayal from him.

As Marcos looked at her from his desk, her face in a book of hers, he wanted to tell her. They had faced many things together but this was different.

He knew, she might never forgive him. For lying, for agreeing in the first place, and perhaps... For keeping it from her.

But he couldn't lose her. She had showed him what love was, how powerful it could be.

What was he to do if she stopped loving him?

He heard her sigh and set the book down, rubbing her face and reaching out for her pills next to his bed before he practically rushed to the bed and jumped on her.

She cursed for a second but when he tried to move away, she kept him still. "Its fine," Her eyes scanned him. "Are you done with your game?"

Marcos could see the tiredness in her eyes. Reading continuously took a toll on her body but he had seen what could happen if she didn't so he had to accept it. "Yeah, I am."

She nodded. "Get me a glass of water? My head's killing me."

He did as she asked, watching as she took the pills in her mouth and then the water before settling the cup on his bedstand and pulling him back to her. "This feels nice."

"A... There's something I have to tell you."

She looked at him, worry lighting the features on her face. "Are you alright?"

"It's about... " Tell her. For fuck's sake, you're digging a hole for yourself if you don't. "Paris."

Fuck.

He could feel that she didn't believe him but she continued anyway. "Did he say something to you?"

"No. I just wanted to know why you made me take him to the hospital."

She sighed and rested on the bed's headstand and said, "For one, he was badly injured and needed medical attention but couldn't for some reason, and two, I sent you to assess him yourself."

"Assess him?"

Alex looked at him now. "How do you see him?"

"He's cool, in a way, and he helped me once, I think." He looked at her. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know, but I'd like him for a while." Then she reached out for his face. "It doesn't mean I'd love you less —"

"I know." He did know, but he truly didn't mind. For two reasons, because he knew Paris liked her, to some extent, and two, he needed her occupied when he couldn't be there for her.

Which was a... Devious reason but it was still valid.

"Talking on that, did you get yourself anything with the card?"

"No, I— I forgot." He answered.

"Figured."

Alex pulled the bad on the ground to the bed and brought out a rectangular box. "Now, I know you go on yammering about gifts but I couldn't let this one slide. All things considered."

He stared at it for a while before taking the box in his hand then opening it.

On it, were five butterfly rings, made of glass.

"Happy second year anniversary, Eros."

The first day they were together were two butterfly hair clips.

The day they celebrated a year together, she got him a choker with butterflies on it.

And now, this.

He looked at her with a crestfallen expression. "It was —It was today?"

She nodded. "I was surprised you'd forgotten but you've been acting pretty distant lately. I thought it was because of Paris —"

He shook his head. "It's not."

"You know how I feel about lying. If there's something wrong, tell me. I want him but it's you I love. Your opinion matters more than anything."

"It is fine. I actually want you to want him? In a way?" He shook his head again. "I don't know. He seems genuinely interested in you and I know you like multiple partners. We did that a lot during training, remember?"

"Yes, but we're not just Dom and Sub, now." She said with a light frown. "We're lovers. That's different."

Marcos didn't say it but the fact she had used the word 'lovers' made his stomach do flips. "You'd always be my Dom," He said, placing a kiss on her lips. "And I'm sorry I forgot. I don't know. Work's kind of getting to me."

"If it's the debt —"

"It's not," There he was. Lying again. Only this time he prayed she didn't realize it.

Alex sighed. "Fine, but that's not all I got you."

He stared at her with a warning look in his eyes. "Alex,"

"There's nothing extra about this one, I swear." She said, "It's more of a personal gift, for me. I've dreamt of you wearing it for a long time now, to be honest."

In her hand was a ring.

A silver crescent ring that had a star on the side as well.

"You already know what the tattoo on my chest signifies," She said, "But this ring. It bonds us together. Connects us. I want you wearing it no matter what. Do you understand? Can you do that for me? Baby, are you crying?"

There it was. The need to confess. To let bare his sin, but he couldn't disappoint her.

Not now.

Maybe when things weren't so good, but he'd tell her. He swore on it. "I love you, A."

Her face became softer. "I love you too, Eros. More than you'd ever know."

And Marcos never did know, because if he did, he would have told her the truth, but he didn't.

~

For those who didn't know, Mariposa means Butterfly, in Spanish.