Bernis got back from the party. His clothes reeked of cheap alcohol. Not that he drank any of it, anyway. Apparently, the bullies couldn't handle their liquor and one of them ended up staggering and pouring their drink onto his shirt.
On his way home, he'd staggered out of fatigue. He could have sworn he'd heard an elderly couple whisper about how the youth get wasted in alcohol. To them, he was one of the wasted ones. Not that he cared. He would occasionally drink in the presence of whomever he felt comfortable with; his loved ones. They were far from him at the moment, and he dared not be careless.
He sighed heavily at the relief his apartment gave him. The day's activities and the rush of adrenaline that had wrecked his body for the few minutes of circulation overwhelmed him.
He entered his baby blue bathroom with a translucent door separating the tiny cage of a bathroom from the shower and sink area. A quick shower was all he could afford. He couldn't wait to get to bed.
As he lotioned up his body, he saw a purple mark on his right wrist. Where could I have gotten this from, he wondered. Flashbacks of the afternoon incident ruptured in his mind, and he saw blurry for a while. He remembered the shadow, the voice, warning him against running. "Get out, but do not run… I said do not run." He shuddered at the memory.
After a few seconds, he managed to turn off his brain from recalling the incident vividly. Cold sweat covered his body - his forehead, his chest, and limbs. He was wet, as if rained on. Clothes stuck to his skin, making the thin shirt turn translucent. His hair, which was yet to dry, made him look like he was just leaving some vigorous night activity. He rubbed the purple mark with lotion.
"It cannot be true," he whispered to himself as he reached to remove the T-shirt he had just put on. He felt hot. He slowly reached down to unfasten his pants. When he had created enough room to slip in his hand, he reached for his member. It was already hard, engorged with blood that the adrenaline had sent rushing all over his body. His lotioned hand was slick, and one rub sent him moaning. He seldom relieved his need, but when the need ached to torture, he would give in to his desire. A second rub and he was rock hard. He hurried to lower his pants further to get good access to his member and to reap the maximum pleasure from the act.
"Having fun, are we." A familiar voice reached Bernis' ear. He quickly grabbed his blankets to cover up his waist. His eyes went flying around the corners of the room to find the voice's source.
"Poor baby. Now you are all shriveled up down there." The voice startled Bernis. He sent his covers flying over his head. He knelt on the bed, face down on the mattress, underneath the cover, praying for the voice to go away.
Once he was in that position, he heard footsteps approaching closer and closer. Suddenly they stopped, and Bernis could tell that whoever it was, they were right next to his bed.
"Are you the man from the cave," he asked in a shaky voice. He heard the voice exhale. As if something had disappointed it.
"I fulfilled my promise to meet again. How about you stop hiding from your guest now." It said, as if Bernis' response had greatly offended him to his trespassing. "I do not feel welcome at all."
Bernis attempted to lower the bedding to expose his face, but he changed his mind. "That is because you are not welcome here." His voice shuddered despite his efforts to sound confident from beneath the blankets.
The man exhaled and then smirked before lightly patting the shape of Bernis' back from underneath the cover. The touch was all it took for Bernis to get out of the sheets and run to stand in a corner. That's when he saw him - the man to whom the voice belonged to. Despite his croaky voice from the cave, he didn't look terrifying at all, but Bernis kept his distance. Even though the figure had a fit, fleshy body like a human, and a sharp-looking jaw like a Greek god, he could be the devil.
"Why were you in the cave," Bernis asked, hoping to get a normal and acceptable answer so that his heart rate would at least go down.
"Why were you in the cave," the man asked as he narrowed his eyes at Bernis, diverting the question.
Bernis rolled his eyes. "You are arrogant. I asked a question, and you answered with a question." He said to the man, annoyed. "Please, leave my house."
The man walked back a few steps from the bed and sat on the jungle green couch on the opposite side of the room. "Not even curious?" he asked, lifting his index finger above his head.
Bernis laughed at the current joke in his space. "I was curious, but you gave me a question instead of an answer."
"It is courteous to ask for a name first." The man stated the obvious, which Bernis had ignored. "Since you asked, I am Maverick Zervas. Call me Maverick," he winked at the young man.
Bernis rubbed his shoulders. A chilly breeze blew by with the fresh, sweet smell of herbal trees. But it was the wrong time to enjoy it. He scanned his apartment and noticed that the window was open. He slowly shut it as he tried to recall whether he had opened the window that day.
"How did you get in," Bernis asked, controlling his tone to keep from sounding freaked out.
Maverick crossed one leg over the other. "Through the window, of course," he said, lifting his finger sideways and above his temple for a quick second before putting it down.
"I swear I have not opened this window all day," Bernis whispered to himself.
Maverick caught it but kept mum; not wanting to alter a word that would cause the boy to freak out any more than he already was. Bernis cleared his throat. "Okay then, why are you here."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You have asked too many questions in a row. This isn't an interview. How about I ask you a question?" Maverick smirked.
"I did not agree to this," Bernis said with fury as he reached for his T-shirt on the bed. He put it on, followed by a warm green sweater his mother had given him for Christmas.
"At least tell me your name?" the man asked, lowering his tone to the angry male.
"Bernis," he said, impatiently tapping his foot against the carpet.
"Baaanis." Maverick tried the name out.
"With an 'e' and an 'r'", Bernis added impatiently.
Maverick smiled, and Bernis cringed at the wave of discomfort. He wondered if there was an acceptable way to behave toward an intruder who came in via a window that was locked from the inside.
A murderer! His brain alerted, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "I'm uncomfortable having you here. How did you even know where I lived? Why did you come after me? And the cave… in the cave…" His ears reddened. His hands went flying, landing against his temples, as if in need to protect his mind from his own thoughts.
"Please leave. I would be more comfortable if you were gone." Bernis paused. "We can talk some other day," he finished.
"Alright. I will leave for now," Maverick said, causing Bernis to question his choice of words. For now? Does it mean he intends to come again?
"We can meet outside the Palace in the evening of your choosing. I work there and clock out at 5pm every weekday." Bernis hoped to get some security from the palace guards outside the gate as he spoke with the mysterious man.
"You work at the palace? Why were you up the hill in the afternoon," Maverick asked.
"I get an afternoon off in between the weekdays. The boys went on an adventure and I tagged along." Bernis averted his right foot as he wondered about his small lie. Tagged along. He laughed to himself. He had unwillingly gone to prove his manhood.
"Well then, I hope to see you soon," Maverick said, rising from the couch.
Bernis took a step back, and he knocked into his shampoo bottles and lotions on a small table. The man seemed bigger, scarier when standing.
"Be careful not to hurt yourself," Maverick growled. He had just woken after years of sleeping. He wasn't sure how well he would resist the urge for human blood. His resilience so far made him happy. The sleep had done him some good in meditating and improving his discipline with his cravings.
The growl. "What is it with you and 'do not hurt yourself,'" Bernis mocked Maverick's way of speaking with a high-pitched feminine voice.
"Because you do not want to end up hurt and bleeding. Bloooood," he paused after prolonging the word in a deep voice. "Blood is precious," Maverick said, licking his lips.
"Huh!?" Bernis exclaimed.
Maverick returned from his small fantasy to find Bernis staring at him. "I mean to say, you need to be careful not to hurt yourself," he said as he awkwardly ran his hand through his hair.
"Oh, I see," Bernis said, hoping to not introduce another topic. He wanted the man out of his house. "I will open the door for you," he said as he finished putting the bottles back on the table.
"Thank you. I was thinking of going back through the window," Maverick said, wearing a mischievous smile. He was such a baby for his warrior size.
Bernis rolled his eyes as he walked past him and opened the door. Just leave. The man thought to himself. He was about to slam the door shut and pass along a message of, 'you are not welcome here,' when Maverick turned to him. "Have fun," he said, lifting his eyebrows with a grin on his face. He then lowered his eyes to Bernis' crotch.
Bernis sent a kick, targeting Maverick's thigh, which he ended up missing. So instead, he sent the door flying towards Maverick's face. He locked it, and ensured he locked the window well from inside too.
"There is something off about him," Bernis said to himself as he nodded, agreeing with his own suspicions. His instinct could not be wrong. His danger alarm rarely rang. But when it did, it was always right.