A story of HIM.

Mr steemit saw the note first thing in the morning, It was tucked between the louvers directly above the bed, He had seen this coming in his dream marx walking away in the rain and disappearing in the mist, but had thought it impossible that marx would leave him.
Just like that.
Last night, marx continued to stare at the ceiling and inhale breath noisily after they had sex, Mr steemit had turned on the light and asked what the matter was.
'Nothing, Let's sleep.
Then, out of nowhere, marx said, 'My dad is an imam. You know what that means? It means I'm killing myself doing this with you.
'But we love each other. Isn't that what should matter? How many times should we discuss this?'
'Yeah.' He found mr steemit face, pulled his beard slowly and lovingly. 'I love you very much. But I'm scared. I just can't continue like this. You know, we can't, He let it drift away, the voice, quivering and unsure of its sound and replaced his hand to his chest.

'Darling, we'll find a way, I promise

'You don't understand this, do you? You don't understand that they've already found me a wife and they expect me to be paying homage to her family until I get married to her--'

'Just shut up, marx!'mr steemita sat up, ran his fingers over the square patterns on the blanket, groping for something he didn't know. 'You're selfish! What about me? You think my mum hasn't called me a eunuch? You think all's well with me?'

To be continue...........