Gohen: Redemption

Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel

chapter one

He walked through the club. It was not like an ordinary nightclub. This was a respectable establishment. Tables and chairs were strategically placed around the intimate space, consisting of a small dancing area, a well-stocked bar, and live, classy entertainment. The lights were low, and there were dozens of people watching the figure up on the stage. Erestor's eyes were drawn to the singer whose low, musical voice crooned about lost love.

Maglor's tall, pale form was huddled around the microphone, his eyes heavy-lidded and his body moving in a sensual sway. The music accompanying him was deep, slow, throbbing. It called to Erestor's blood and set him on edge; it called to the hunger within him. His dark eyes raked down Maglor's body. He was clad in crimson silk; the poet shirt was tucked into skin-tight black jeans and black boots poked out from under the pant legs. The dark sable tresses hung free about Maglor's slender, aristocratic features, and glittering grey eyes held the audience captive.

The last son of Fëanor to walk Middle-Earth was a sight of gothic beauty.

As Erestor came closer to the stage, the glances cast his way were not lost on him. If Maglor was gothic beauty personified, Erestor was living darkness. He was fluid, graceful, tall and fell. His black eyes took in all activity around him, unblinking and hard. His black tresses were tied neatly back from his face, though he hid the pointed tips of his ears with carefully placed locks. A simple, thin black dress shirt covered his torso, the silk hanging perfectly from his body. Just like Maglor, his lower body was hugged in tight black jeans, though his feet were covered with fine leather loafers, not heavy black boots.

Erestor slid into a chair by a table in the corner. He scanned the surrounding mortals, sensing from each what had brought them to the club this night. The progression of time and necessity had worked to hone their particular talents and gifts, and now Erestor could skim a mortal's thoughts with a lingering glance, while Maglor's ability to influence emotion through song and music became eerily acute. Such nights as this were now part of an intricate dance between Maglor and Erestor. As Maglor sang, distracting his audience with his spell of sound, Erestor would seek a partner for them for the evening.

Partner, of course, was a contrivance to hide the true meaning. It meant that they had to feed. Mortal blood, sadly, was a pale and bland thing compared to the richness of Eldarin blood. As the world that had borne them slipped from history into myth into fiction, Maglor and Erestor had been forced to feed more often to sustain themselves. By now, it had become a nightly occurrence. Finding victims from which to feed naturally became more difficult as well. To that end, Maglor had purchased a failing nightclub and converted it into this haven for "alternative lifestyles" that they called 'Melindor' as a private joke between them. The ancient Quenya word for "male lovers" seemed an appropriate title, even if no one else remembered it.

It amused Erestor in a sad sort of way to witness how societies through the ages attempted to deal with those with preferences contrary to the majority. In varying measures, so-called "civilized" society tried to ignore them, shun them, destroy them, and "cure" them. Yet for all of that, there was never a shortage of that particular type of Man whose loves ran to those of the same gender. For instance, the gentle-faced youngster sitting at the bar nursing the same drink for the last fifteen minutes. Erestor brushed across the preoccupied mind. It seemed that David had been rejected by his lover of the past year. That lover had bristled at the suggestion of a long-term commitment, and left David in order to return to his estranged wife, who David had known nothing about.

Erestor subtly attracted Maglor's attention and indicated the young man with his eyes. The elder Noldo nodded almost imperceptibly, and turned slightly, focusing his power on the single target. Erestor, meanwhile, stood from his chair and wove through the crowd with catlike grace, easing gently onto the barstool beside David. The tawny-haired mortal had turned to stare at Maglor on the stage, drawn by the power infused into that silky voice, and had not noticed Erestor at all. Only when the song ended and Maglor stepped off the stage to enthusiastic applause did David blink and realize that the empty stool beside him was now occupied.

"I apologize for startling you," Erestor began coolly, "but you seemed so engrossed that I didn't want to disturb you."

"What? Oh, the music. Yes, I guess I was," David stammered. He moved to hold out his hand, and seemed surprised to find that it still held his drink. He tossed the double back in a sudden, jerky motion and set the glass back on the bar, and then offered his hand again. "I'm David," he continued. "Can I buy you a drink? Least I can do for not noticing you there."

Erestor shook David's hand, favoring the youngster with a sly smile. "No, no, I insist. My stake in this club should be worth something." He signaled the bartender for two drinks identical to the one David had just finished. "I am Vincent Laurel. Pleased to meet you, David." Erestor wrapped his lips around the name as though he could make love to the word itself.

David's eyes widened. "You're Vincent Laurel? The Vincent Laurel? Half-owner of this place? Wow! You're virtually a legend at the Pride Foundation. I've volunteered there a few times, and there was hardly an hour that went by that someone didn't mention your name or the hundred thousand dollars you donated to help them get started."

"And to think, Vincent, you wanted to donate it to Greenpeace," Maglor teased as he approached Erestor from behind. He placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and smiled at David. "Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?"

David's jaw fell open. "Oh, my God. You're Marcus D'amras! I'm David, David Selman." He clasped Maglor's free hand in both of his own and shook it vigorously. Maglor shot Erestor an arrogant smirk; Erestor simply rolled his eyes.

Maglor retrieved his hand from David's overeager grasp and reached for one of the shot glasses -- now numbering three, thanks to the attentive bartender -- and raised it as a toast. David quickly picked up his own glass, and Erestor followed suit a moment later. "To the Power of Pride," Maglor said simply. He started to bring the glass to his lips, and then playfully added, "And money."

The three shots were drained and the empty glasses disappeared from the bar soon thereafter. Maglor leaned down to Erestor and said, deliberately loud enough for David to hear, "Vincent, love, I'm half dead. What do you say we get out of here and grab a coffee somewhere?"

It took only the subtlest nudge of preternatural influence for David's mind to fill in the rest. He cleared his throat just as Erestor was opening his mouth to reply. "Umm... look, if you two don't really have any plans, you want to drop by my apartment? I mean, it's not much to look at, but it's only three blocks from here, and my lover -- well, my ex-lover -- always said I made a hell of a cup of coffee."

Maglor shot David another of those killer smiles, and Erestor was certain the Man was going to burst into flames right there. "What do you say, Vincent?" he asked needlessly. "Fancy going for a stroll?"

Erestor forced a smile. Now that the moment was so close, the hunger began to gnaw at him. His control was never as finely honed as Maglor's, and he struggled with it even into this modern Age. "By all means. Lead the way, David."

They followed the Man to his apartment, a small, modest loft. It was sparsely furnished, and David continued to apologize for how shabby he thought it was. Erestor smiled at the nervous youth. "Don't worry about it, David. Really. It's lovely in its simplicity. Too many in this day and age believe material possessions equal class." Erestor leaned in close, inhaling the musk of his soon-to-be bed partner. "And that is by no means true," he finished, his lips inches from the flushing Man.

"D-d-do you want decaf?" David managed, still rooted to the spot, staring at Erestor's full lips.

Maglor moved around behind David, whispering into his ear. "No, we are not interested in coffee, dear David. We are interested in... other delicacies we hope you don't mind indulging us with."

David's eyes seemed to glaze over as Maglor spoke, and Erestor's hunger burned. "Other... delicacies?" the boy asked quietly, his pink lips parted and moist. Erestor could no longer resist and closed what little distance there was between them, kissing David slowly. He slipped his tongue into the hot, eager mouth that tasted of vodka, and sensually stroked and caressed David's mouth. Through half-lidded eyes, Erestor watched Maglor bend his head to David's throat, kissing and sucking his way up the slender neck.

It was a seduction they were well acquainted with.

Erestor left David's mouth, stroking the dazed Man's cheek with his fingers. "Where is the bedroom?" he asked, lapping at the swelling lips before him.

David blinked twice, surfacing from the fog of desire the two Elves had submerged him into, and led them back behind the kitchen. The bed was large, and made, which actually surprised Erestor. He had thought the boy would have still been too depressed to bother with such cleanliness. David stood between the dark beings again, moaning quietly as his clothing was slowly stripped from him and his skin was teased by lips and hands. Before long, the three had moved onto the bed, David still between them, their hard and nude bodies pressing together.

Maglor pulled a condom from his jeans and handed it to Erestor, smiling darkly at his partner who continued to coax the Man into a sexual frenzy. Erestor nipped at David's ear, looking into the hazel eyes, pupils wide and his gaze glassy. "I am going to fuck you now, David," he informed him simply. David whimpered and nodded, the youth's cock twitching with the words.

Erestor scooted back to rest himself against the headboard, rolling the thin piece of latex down his shaft. As he stroked himself through the condom, he watched Maglor prepare David. The Man was exquisite, and Erestor thought the lover who left him was missing so much. David mewled as he was stretched and lubricated, his eyes focused entirely on Erestor's dark gaze. Erestor could feel David's need, his desire to please and be pleased. This one was special. Maglor moved away, wiping his hand on the bedspread. "We want to pleasure you, lover," the elder Noldo said, his deep voice like liquid fire. Erestor pulled David back against him, allowing the Man to face Maglor while Erestor impaled him from behind. He sunk easily into the young, tight body, and a low moan slipped from his lips while David cried out in pained-pleasure.

They set a languid pace; David rode Erestor's length with skill. Maglor crawled between their spread legs, taking David's neglected arousal into his mouth. As he undulated his throat around the firm flesh, wringing sharp cried and whimpered pleas from David, Erestor brought his lips to David's shoulder. He nipped and kissed up the soft skin until his lips rested over the tender meat of where David's throat met his shoulder. Erestor's blazing eyes met Maglor's for a moment before his fangs sank into David, the pain of the puncture almost immediately swept away by the lust in Erestor's mind invading David's.

David continued to grind against Erestor, his eyes closed as he brought himself closer and closer to climax. Maglor let David's shaft fall from his lips, though he continued to stroke him with his hand. He sought instead a spot on the Man's thigh where there was no danger of puncturing an artery. When he located a safe area, he bit into the flesh, his mouth flooding with the rich, coppery fluid and his mind reeling with the sexual potency of David's blood.

As they fed, David was unaware of their activities. He moved relentlessly on Erestor's length while Maglor stroked his own. Finally, Erestor pulled away from the boy, swiping his tongue over the seeping wounds until the pinprick marks stopped bleeding. As David stiffened in Erestor's arms, his seed coating Maglor's hand, the elder Noldo released David's thigh.

The sandy-haired Man fell back against Erestor's chest, already in a deep, sated sleep. Maglor helped David off of Erestor, and they carefully put him to bed. They dressed and removed all trace of their presence from the loft. Still high and aroused from the feeding, the two Elves quickly and silently returned to their little home above the bookstore. Though Erestor could have reached his own completion with David, he had held back.

Tonight, he was Maglor's.

Smelling of sex and blood, Maglor pulled Erestor along, entering the small bathroom. Steam filled the room as they stripped, tossing their clothes carelessly to the floor. Hot water pulsed down their pale bodies, and their mouths met in a fierce kiss. Maglor forcefully turned Erestor around, running his hands along the slick back.

"You enjoy the game, don't you?" he asked, his fingers resting against the entrance to Erestor's body. "Teasing them, working them up into a frenzy so we can take what we need." Maglor suckled on Erestor's neck as he pressed into the eager body.

Erestor moaned loudly. "It is a game you taught me," he panted, his cock still achingly hard. "Why should I not take pleasure in it?"

Maglor breached Erestor's channel with his length, burying himself easily into the body he had loved for centuries uncounted. He reached around Erestor's body, taking the heated flesh in his hand, and stroked in time to his furious thrusts. "You tease me," he whispered harshly into Erestor's ear. "Do you not think I can sense it, Erestor? Hmm? Your thoughts rolling through their mind, enflaming my passion through their blood?"

"You know you love what I do," Erestor replied, crying out sharply as Maglor squeezed his hand.

"You are a dark one, melethen," Maglor said, his voice hitching as his orgasm approached. "You always were."

Erestor pushed his slick length through Maglor's fist once more, his hand reaching out to steady himself as he spilled himself over the talented hand. As his body convulsed around the thick shaft filling him, Maglor hugged him close, his essence flooding the younger Noldo. They remained in the position, locked together, their hearts beating as one; the Man's blood still was coursing through their bodies.

The water began to cool, and Maglor withdrew from Erestor's body. They washed quickly and in silence. Once dry, they fell into the soft, large bed they shared. The sunrise was still a few hours off, and Maglor held Erestor close in the quiet of their room. Soon, reverie found them, though Erestor's sleep was troubled.

It was always troubled.

Blue eyes, full of warmth and laughter, haunted his rest.

Eyes he simply wanted to forget.


	Navigation multi-story arcs previous next Translations melethen - my love		Gohen: Redemption Beta: Ilye, Fimbrethiel chapter one He walked through the club. It was not like an ordinary nightclub. This was a respectable establishment. Tables and chairs were strategically placed around the intimate space, consisting of a small dancing area, a well-stocked bar, and live, classy entertainment. The lights were low, and there were dozens of people watching the figure up on the stage. Erestor's eyes were drawn to the singer whose low, musical voice crooned about lost love. Maglor's tall, pale form was huddled around the microphone, his eyes heavy-lidded and his body moving in a sensual sway. The music accompanying him was deep, slow, throbbing. It called to Erestor's blood and set him on edge; it called to the hunger within him. His dark eyes raked down Maglor's body. He was clad in crimson silk; the poet shirt was tucked into skin-tight black jeans and black boots poked out from under the pant legs. The dark sable tresses hung free about Maglor's slender, aristocratic features, and glittering grey eyes held the audience captive. The last son of Fëanor to walk Middle-Earth was a sight of gothic beauty. As Erestor came closer to the stage, the glances cast his way were not lost on him. If Maglor was gothic beauty personified, Erestor was living darkness. He was fluid, graceful, tall and fell. His black eyes took in all activity around him, unblinking and hard. His black tresses were tied neatly back from his face, though he hid the pointed tips of his ears with carefully placed locks. A simple, thin black dress shirt covered his torso, the silk hanging perfectly from his body. Just like Maglor, his lower body was hugged in tight black jeans, though his feet were covered with fine leather loafers, not heavy black boots. Erestor slid into a chair by a table in the corner. He scanned the surrounding mortals, sensing from each what had brought them to the club this night. The progression of time and necessity had worked to hone their particular talents and gifts, and now Erestor could skim a mortal's thoughts with a lingering glance, while Maglor's ability to influence emotion through song and music became eerily acute. Such nights as this were now part of an intricate dance between Maglor and Erestor. As Maglor sang, distracting his audience with his spell of sound, Erestor would seek a partner for them for the evening. Partner, of course, was a contrivance to hide the true meaning. It meant that they had to feed. Mortal blood, sadly, was a pale and bland thing compared to the richness of Eldarin blood. As the world that had borne them slipped from history into myth into fiction, Maglor and Erestor had been forced to feed more often to sustain themselves. By now, it had become a nightly occurrence. Finding victims from which to feed naturally became more difficult as well. To that end, Maglor had purchased a failing nightclub and converted it into this haven for "alternative lifestyles" that they called 'Melindor' as a private joke between them. The ancient Quenya word for "male lovers" seemed an appropriate title, even if no one else remembered it. It amused Erestor in a sad sort of way to witness how societies through the ages attempted to deal with those with preferences contrary to the majority. In varying measures, so-called "civilized" society tried to ignore them, shun them, destroy them, and "cure" them. Yet for all of that, there was never a shortage of that particular type of Man whose loves ran to those of the same gender. For instance, the gentle-faced youngster sitting at the bar nursing the same drink for the last fifteen minutes. Erestor brushed across the preoccupied mind. It seemed that David had been rejected by his lover of the past year. That lover had bristled at the suggestion of a long-term commitment, and left David in order to return to his estranged wife, who David had known nothing about. Erestor subtly attracted Maglor's attention and indicated the young man with his eyes. The elder Noldo nodded almost imperceptibly, and turned slightly, focusing his power on the single target. Erestor, meanwhile, stood from his chair and wove through the crowd with catlike grace, easing gently onto the barstool beside David. The tawny-haired mortal had turned to stare at Maglor on the stage, drawn by the power infused into that silky voice, and had not noticed Erestor at all. Only when the song ended and Maglor stepped off the stage to enthusiastic applause did David blink and realize that the empty stool beside him was now occupied. "I apologize for startling you," Erestor began coolly, "but you seemed so engrossed that I didn't want to disturb you." "What? Oh, the music. Yes, I guess I was," David stammered. He moved to hold out his hand, and seemed surprised to find that it still held his drink. He tossed the double back in a sudden, jerky motion and set the glass back on the bar, and then offered his hand again. "I'm David," he continued. "Can I buy you a drink? Least I can do for not noticing you there." Erestor shook David's hand, favoring the youngster with a sly smile. "No, no, I insist. My stake in this club should be worth something." He signaled the bartender for two drinks identical to the one David had just finished. "I am Vincent Laurel. Pleased to meet you, David." Erestor wrapped his lips around the name as though he could make love to the word itself. David's eyes widened. "You're Vincent Laurel? The Vincent Laurel? Half-owner of this place? Wow! You're virtually a legend at the Pride Foundation. I've volunteered there a few times, and there was hardly an hour that went by that someone didn't mention your name or the hundred thousand dollars you donated to help them get started." "And to think, Vincent, you wanted to donate it to Greenpeace," Maglor teased as he approached Erestor from behind. He placed his hand on his partner's shoulder and smiled at David. "Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?" David's jaw fell open. "Oh, my God. You're Marcus D'amras! I'm David, David Selman." He clasped Maglor's free hand in both of his own and shook it vigorously. Maglor shot Erestor an arrogant smirk; Erestor simply rolled his eyes. Maglor retrieved his hand from David's overeager grasp and reached for one of the shot glasses -- now numbering three, thanks to the attentive bartender -- and raised it as a toast. David quickly picked up his own glass, and Erestor followed suit a moment later. "To the Power of Pride," Maglor said simply. He started to bring the glass to his lips, and then playfully added, "And money." The three shots were drained and the empty glasses disappeared from the bar soon thereafter. Maglor leaned down to Erestor and said, deliberately loud enough for David to hear, "Vincent, love, I'm half dead. What do you say we get out of here and grab a coffee somewhere?" It took only the subtlest nudge of preternatural influence for David's mind to fill in the rest. He cleared his throat just as Erestor was opening his mouth to reply. "Umm... look, if you two don't really have any plans, you want to drop by my apartment? I mean, it's not much to look at, but it's only three blocks from here, and my lover -- well, my ex-lover -- always said I made a hell of a cup of coffee." Maglor shot David another of those killer smiles, and Erestor was certain the Man was going to burst into flames right there. "What do you say, Vincent?" he asked needlessly. "Fancy going for a stroll?" Erestor forced a smile. Now that the moment was so close, the hunger began to gnaw at him. His control was never as finely honed as Maglor's, and he struggled with it even into this modern Age. "By all means. Lead the way, David." They followed the Man to his apartment, a small, modest loft. It was sparsely furnished, and David continued to apologize for how shabby he thought it was. Erestor smiled at the nervous youth. "Don't worry about it, David. Really. It's lovely in its simplicity. Too many in this day and age believe material possessions equal class." Erestor leaned in close, inhaling the musk of his soon-to-be bed partner. "And that is by no means true," he finished, his lips inches from the flushing Man. "D-d-do you want decaf?" David managed, still rooted to the spot, staring at Erestor's full lips. Maglor moved around behind David, whispering into his ear. "No, we are not interested in coffee, dear David. We are interested in... other delicacies we hope you don't mind indulging us with." David's eyes seemed to glaze over as Maglor spoke, and Erestor's hunger burned. "Other... delicacies?" the boy asked quietly, his pink lips parted and moist. Erestor could no longer resist and closed what little distance there was between them, kissing David slowly. He slipped his tongue into the hot, eager mouth that tasted of vodka, and sensually stroked and caressed David's mouth. Through half-lidded eyes, Erestor watched Maglor bend his head to David's throat, kissing and sucking his way up the slender neck. It was a seduction they were well acquainted with. Erestor left David's mouth, stroking the dazed Man's cheek with his fingers. "Where is the bedroom?" he asked, lapping at the swelling lips before him. David blinked twice, surfacing from the fog of desire the two Elves had submerged him into, and led them back behind the kitchen. The bed was large, and made, which actually surprised Erestor. He had thought the boy would have still been too depressed to bother with such cleanliness. David stood between the dark beings again, moaning quietly as his clothing was slowly stripped from him and his skin was teased by lips and hands. Before long, the three had moved onto the bed, David still between them, their hard and nude bodies pressing together. Maglor pulled a condom from his jeans and handed it to Erestor, smiling darkly at his partner who continued to coax the Man into a sexual frenzy. Erestor nipped at David's ear, looking into the hazel eyes, pupils wide and his gaze glassy. "I am going to fuck you now, David," he informed him simply. David whimpered and nodded, the youth's cock twitching with the words. Erestor scooted back to rest himself against the headboard, rolling the thin piece of latex down his shaft. As he stroked himself through the condom, he watched Maglor prepare David. The Man was exquisite, and Erestor thought the lover who left him was missing so much. David mewled as he was stretched and lubricated, his eyes focused entirely on Erestor's dark gaze. Erestor could feel David's need, his desire to please and be pleased. This one was special. Maglor moved away, wiping his hand on the bedspread. "We want to pleasure you, lover," the elder Noldo said, his deep voice like liquid fire. Erestor pulled David back against him, allowing the Man to face Maglor while Erestor impaled him from behind. He sunk easily into the young, tight body, and a low moan slipped from his lips while David cried out in pained-pleasure. They set a languid pace; David rode Erestor's length with skill. Maglor crawled between their spread legs, taking David's neglected arousal into his mouth. As he undulated his throat around the firm flesh, wringing sharp cried and whimpered pleas from David, Erestor brought his lips to David's shoulder. He nipped and kissed up the soft skin until his lips rested over the tender meat of where David's throat met his shoulder. Erestor's blazing eyes met Maglor's for a moment before his fangs sank into David, the pain of the puncture almost immediately swept away by the lust in Erestor's mind invading David's. David continued to grind against Erestor, his eyes closed as he brought himself closer and closer to climax. Maglor let David's shaft fall from his lips, though he continued to stroke him with his hand. He sought instead a spot on the Man's thigh where there was no danger of puncturing an artery. When he located a safe area, he bit into the flesh, his mouth flooding with the rich, coppery fluid and his mind reeling with the sexual potency of David's blood. As they fed, David was unaware of their activities. He moved relentlessly on Erestor's length while Maglor stroked his own. Finally, Erestor pulled away from the boy, swiping his tongue over the seeping wounds until the pinprick marks stopped bleeding. As David stiffened in Erestor's arms, his seed coating Maglor's hand, the elder Noldo released David's thigh. The sandy-haired Man fell back against Erestor's chest, already in a deep, sated sleep. Maglor helped David off of Erestor, and they carefully put him to bed. They dressed and removed all trace of their presence from the loft. Still high and aroused from the feeding, the two Elves quickly and silently returned to their little home above the bookstore. Though Erestor could have reached his own completion with David, he had held back. Tonight, he was Maglor's. Smelling of sex and blood, Maglor pulled Erestor along, entering the small bathroom. Steam filled the room as they stripped, tossing their clothes carelessly to the floor. Hot water pulsed down their pale bodies, and their mouths met in a fierce kiss. Maglor forcefully turned Erestor around, running his hands along the slick back. "You enjoy the game, don't you?" he asked, his fingers resting against the entrance to Erestor's body. "Teasing them, working them up into a frenzy so we can take what we need." Maglor suckled on Erestor's neck as he pressed into the eager body. Erestor moaned loudly. "It is a game you taught me," he panted, his cock still achingly hard. "Why should I not take pleasure in it?" Maglor breached Erestor's channel with his length, burying himself easily into the body he had loved for centuries uncounted. He reached around Erestor's body, taking the heated flesh in his hand, and stroked in time to his furious thrusts. "You tease me," he whispered harshly into Erestor's ear. "Do you not think I can sense it, Erestor? Hmm? Your thoughts rolling through their mind, enflaming my passion through their blood?" "You know you love what I do," Erestor replied, crying out sharply as Maglor squeezed his hand. "You are a dark one, melethen," Maglor said, his voice hitching as his orgasm approached. "You always were." Erestor pushed his slick length through Maglor's fist once more, his hand reaching out to steady himself as he spilled himself over the talented hand. As his body convulsed around the thick shaft filling him, Maglor hugged him close, his essence flooding the younger Noldo. They remained in the position, locked together, their hearts beating as one; the Man's blood still was coursing through their bodies. The water began to cool, and Maglor withdrew from Erestor's body. They washed quickly and in silence. Once dry, they fell into the soft, large bed they shared. The sunrise was still a few hours off, and Maglor held Erestor close in the quiet of their room. Soon, reverie found them, though Erestor's sleep was troubled. It was always troubled. Blue eyes, full of warmth and laughter, haunted his rest. Eyes he simply wanted to forget.