6

I tap his sweaty face once, then pause. That day, when I saw those soldiers cornering him, I heard sideways remarks. Things like: He’s so girly. A weakling. I bet he takes it in the ass. A sodomite. Usually, I would’ve walked away from such a scene, and in view of how persistent this shit has become since I saved him, I probably should’ve let him be. But I didn’t. I wonder why. It probably had to do with the desperation on his face, and the way he intended to take the beating, no matter how brutal it got. Now, I’m thinking about those soldiers’ words again. More specifically, the girly part. His skin is so soft, it’s almost like butter beneath my fingers, and that’s…fucked up. Not because of the feminine part, but the fact that someone as delicate as he is, is hell-bent on joining the army. It’s a place for brutes and outcasts like myself. People who only know how to kill and need a license to do it freely and with a justified cause. This is a nest for the orphans, the poor, and men wh