Nikki Harrington


Bunny has always surprised Raffles, but no more so than now.

A pre-slash story.

Written: April 2007. Word count: 600.



Throughout our long association, which began at school, my rabbit has always surprised me.

At school, he was willing to risk everything just to help me. He lied for me, not necessarily in the literal sense, at least not then, but in the figurative sense. He helped me. He never once asked questions. He never once let me down. He was always there for me whenever I needed him.

Since the fateful night when, in my rooms, he lost more money than he could afford, he has again continued to surprise me. I know he ventured into crime simply in order to save his good name, but even that one outing surprised me. Despite everything he did for me at school when he was my fag, I did not really believe he had it in him to become a criminal.

I know that he had intended it to be a one-time event. And yet somehow, without me really knowing how, I dragged him more deeply into my world; further into my life. Until he became such an intricate part of it, I cannot imagine my days without him by my side.

Day-by-day, month-by-month, my Bunny never ceases to surprise me. He does not always, indeed if ever, go into our excursions happily, sometimes not even willingly. However, as with our schooldays, he never lets me down.

I know him so well. I trust him, not just with my life but also with my liberty. And even when things have been dark, when we have only just managed to escape, even when he has come home shaking and white, he is always there for me when I need him. Even when I really believe that he'll tell me 'I cannot do this again, Raffles,' he surprises me by being silent.

Tonight, however, he did not surprise me by his silence. Tonight he surprised me with his words. Tonight he told me that he loved me, and made it clear that it was more than the love of two close friends. And if that wasn't enough, he also told me that he knew that I loved him in return.

And that was when I did something that I both regret doing, and yet know I was right to do. I lied to him. I told him he was incorrect. That whilst I cared for him, was fond of him, that I did not, could not, care for him in any way other than in the way of friendship.

It was, like any other lie I tell my Bunny, for his own sake; for his own protection. For myself I would be more than willing to risk being damned in the eyes of God and society; imprisonment, or worse. I do most of those things each time I go, uninvited into someone's house. However, I am not prepared to put my rabbit into that kind of danger. It would not be right.

Thus, I told him to go, that we'd talk of it no more. That his feelings for me were not as he imagined. That he was tired, overwrought. That by tomorrow he would see things differently.

I let him go; made him go. I assured him that I was not angry with him, nor was I upset, that we were still friends, that nothing had changed. That his words were now forgotten.

But that is not true. That is just another lie. His words are not, and will not be, forgotten. How can they be when he said the one thing I have, for months now, longed for him to say?



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