Pretty Boy: Paul Lahote Love Story

Let Go

Edited 7/5/22.

A/N: This chapter contains mild swearing, themes of child neglect, and mentions of prior sexual assault. Viewer discretion is advised.

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"I've always wondered if I was a bad person for not loving my mother."

Marshall's gaze is on the starry night sky. With the house acting as the only establishment for at least a mile, there isn't any light pollution; a feature also enhanced by surrounding porch lamps being left off.

It's a bit of a colder evening. Even though he can't really feel the change, he's half draped in a thin blanket. Thick grass is prickly beneath him. Pine trees sway to their own melodies around the property.

He's leaning into Paul's frame as the man is in his wolf form.

A large furry body is lying in a half crescent shape on its side. Marshall is nestled in the space where Paul's soft underbelly is. The vampire's head is lying against pronounced ribs and muscles that move with every slow breath.

With the two having recently come back from their weekend getaway, things feel a little less hectic. Life feels... calmer.

The change in atmosphere gives Marshall an opportunity to just think out loud instead of keeping some of his more random thoughts to himself.

"It always felt like she treated Rose and I differently." He clasps his hands together and rests them atop his abdomen. "With Rose, mom was a much more open person. Mom was more forgiving if Rose did something wrong. Mom was more involved when it came to Rose's studies. Mom was more involved when it came to caring for Rose's appearance. It felt like my mom took care of me because it was her obligation. Because she didn't want it to seem like she had a favorite child- even though we all could tell that she did.

"It was why my dad was as involved with me as he was. He didn't want me to miss out on having a loving parent-child relationship- even if I could only get that type of connection from one of them. I can say with confidence and honesty that I loved my dad- still do. My mom though... It's complicated. I cared for her because she was family. At the end of the day, she was still my mom, and that meant... something to me. But I don't think I ever really loved her."

Marshall fiddles with a small blade of grass absentmindedly. "I started questioning my sexuality at twenty, but that doesn't mean I didn't realize there was something different about me in terms of my family. We weren't super religious, so I never got the spiel about homosexuality being seen as something bad. And that's why I didn't initially question myself. Because as I was growing up, I only liked men- it was the main populace that surrounded me. I became confused as I grew older because when I started spending more time with women, I was suddenly given more options. I found myself being attracted to people regardless of sex. But- I'm getting off track.

"My mom knew I liked men, and she was very open about her distaste for it. I don't think she hated it- I just think she didn't get it. She didn't make comments, but I could see it on her face.

"She didn't like that I baked or read so fluently. She didn't like that I was more in tune with music than most people. She really didn't like when I started getting tattoos. I don't know. There was just a lot about me that my mom didn't like. I feel like she resented me because I wasn't the picture perfect son that she wanted. I guess, in a way, I resented her too- for not being the mother I wanted. The mother I needed."

He feels the sensation of fur nuzzling against the side of his head. He also feels a soft lick against his clothed bicep. It's a gesture of comfort, as well as Paul showing that he's listening.