The Green Fairy

Don't we all wish for freedom? I did and still do, especially after my imprisonment.

I used to be called Master Branagh and went all over the European continent acting out old pieces of Shakespeare or Molière and selling silly love potions to the crowds. I got up when I wished, roamed in the countries of my dreams and never bothered about the future. I was my own God.

But then I met Arthur.

He was 14 at that time and had just run away from a home with a father who abused him. He had the most delicious childish lip, a deaf anxiety in his eyes and he was beautiful enough to make a stone sob.

I took him under my wing of course. I couldn't prevent it more than I could stop breathing or my heart beating.

Arthur was a brilliant element. He could do anything if he only set his mind to do so. Within a couple of hours of study, he could rant off any long monologue with verve and talent. He was incredible to look at, what with his charisma and this sort of soulful state he seemed to slip into when he dreamt.

Oh, the delicious child! Each day brought more lust.

- Do you have some thread? I tore a button off my shirt.

- Give it to me, I'll do it, I replied.

- Don't fuss, I can sew a damn button.

- Give it!

My voice strung out loud. I hadn't meant to shout at him but I couldn't control my impatience. Why did he always push me away?

Arthur shot a quick look at me with a mocking smile lingering over his lips then quietly took off his shirt.

- Weird fuck.

I felt as hurt as a woman.

- What did I do?

He didn't respond and got up from the bed. He began to pace around the caravan with his usual listless expression.

Arthur's naked skin made me pant as I tried to conceal my greedy eyes behind my work. Such smooth, muscled flesh: the colour of peaches, what a truthful cliché.

As I watched the light play on his torso with a maniacal care, I saw him sigh and turn to the door.

- I'm gonna take a piss.

The door banged and I was left alone with his shadow.

How I wanted to lay my hands on his body and slowly stroke him to paradise.

How I wished after his mouth and his breath on my neck.

How mad I was to love him! Mad! Mad and full of lust!

I was staring at the door with a hallucinated air when Arthur came back in. He treated me to one of his rare smiles.

- What's up? You're looking stupid, Branagh.

I stood up, brushing lightly against his leg to get my bottle of absinthe. Arthur looked at it with an air of disgust.

- What the hell? Drinking again?

- Yes, I happen to enjoy doing so.

- Pour me a glass then.

I was surprised: he had always been hostile to alcohol but, on the contrary, had a tendency to smoke too much.

When I had given him a glass, he amused himself with a spoon and a block of sugar.

- The Green Fairy.. he murmured and fell into sudden thought.

I lunged down some sweet mouthfuls of absinthe. Sweet because my love was finally falling into my vice, my known territory where I had full power.

I saw his face flush as he drank the strong alcohol and his beautiful eyes lit up with an extraordinary fire. He looked estranged, staring at something that seemed to be before him and which was exquisitely attractive.

I felt jealous of the imaginary thing and quickly mentioned my presence back to Arthur.

- Branagh.. Wow..

He took out a cigarette and fumbled to light it. He laughed a little, a sound so unusual for him.

- I see stuff.. Pretty neat..

- Now then, Arthur, I murmured as I sat down next to him.

He didn't seem to notice me and started rubbing his hands with his face. I gently took them in mine and, as he let his dark blue eyes slide towards me, I couldn't help myself anymore and caught him in my arms, hugging the dear head to me. He didn't struggle so I lifted his chin with my impatient fingers and I finally touched those perfect lips.

- Fuck off!

Arthur slid out of my embrace, confused by anger. I was feeling too numb and deliciously aroused to actually care at the moment. But the tone of his voice brought me back to earth.

- Why the fuck did you do that?! I mean.. come on.. he flustered.

- But I love you Arthur. I really do..

- You really sound pathetic, he spat. I mean, you're fucking fifty or so.

- Implying you're not even sixteen, I know.

- You were like a father to me. It's like fucking incest..

- But dear, I do love you.. And I can protect you as any father would.

- Oh no, that's too gross. I mean.. once but not twice..

Arthur let some hot tears fall down his rosy cheeks. He was the picture of helplessness and courage. I felt my love pulsate even more in my veins. I stretched out my hands.

- If only you would take me. I gave you everything. Don't push me away because of some childish fear.

- No, he shook his head in disbelief. Don't try to guilt ride me. It won't work. Don't.

- Look what I have made of you. An intelligent young actor who has a promising future. All I want is your presence.. Not even your love, nor even your beauty.. Just the knowledge you're there with me for always.

- I can't promise you that Branagh.

There I was: offering all I had, my freedom and that cruel boy was turning me down. I couldn't let that happen, no, I couldn't.

Before I understood, I was pining Arthur down to the bed and kissing him passionately. He fought but, under the influence of the absinthe, his force seemed to be lessened and I had the time to caress him as in my wildest dreams.

- No! He cried out in disgust. Don't!

Those were the last things I remembered safe the door opening to the wind and a fragile boy silhouette running away from me. My love was running away from me.

Tears, rain? I can't remember.