The Peacock 1516

He eases himself into the wicker chair which is a survivor from my earliest years. It seems to me that wicker chair has always been in my father's room. My room. he appears to be set to make himself comfortable. I haven't undressed yet for bed, but I am occupying the centre, with my phone and laptop sprawled on my right and a couple of books on my left, leaving no room or question of doubt. This is my space, and I am the one occupying it. Jesus is wearing a white teeshirt and white shorts with bare feet. Clearly ready to turn in. In the room on the other side of the bathroom, of course. He seems a bit sad and pensive.. "How are you." "I feel very sad about what just happened here." "As do I." He seems quite focussed on me right now. "What particularly is making you sad right now, Jesús." "George. Him being drunk like that. He was very rude. To everyone." "That was the alcohol talking through him, I'm afraid." "He, what is the word, propositioned me. Right in front of everyone. Right in front of his husband." "Oh my god!" "I do not want to live here in the same house with him." "Did anything like that occur before you guys came here, at the mansion?" "No." "And it isn't going to happen here." "I am afraid of going to sleep in this house when he is here. Can I sleep in your room tonight?" So that's what he wants. I find myself smiling, because he is nice looking and sweet and of course I am going to feel flattered. But..."The answer is no." "Okay", he says rather heavily. "but should anything happen, or if you are feeling uncomfortble or unsafe and want to talk, plese knock on my door." He is smiling now. Perhaps relieved? "Thank you Christopher. Thank you so much." He gets up and goes to the door. "Good night."