2 - Naked Intruder

EROS

"I already cleaned his wounds and covered them with dressings. When he wakes up, make sure he takes antibiotics," said Perth. Perth was in his med school, and he was knowledgeable about treating wounds and stuff. The naked guy was sleeping in one of my guest rooms; his cuts were already dressed and cleaned.

"Sure," I nodded.

"You know, what's weird… I remembered how bad the wounds were when I first saw them. But then, after I cleaned his wounds, it's like they virtually disappeared. I mean, he still has wounds, but they're no longer that deep."

"Are you sure? If my memory is not mistaken, I saw exposed flesh too,"

"Well, it's good that his wounds are not deep or else, we have to call professionals to do the job. Maybe we were just confused when we first saw him, right?" Perth turned to me, left brow raised.

"That could be," I agreed. However, if there's one person who never forgets, it's Perth. He had a vivid memory, and there are only a few instances when he missed a detail. If he were asked the exact date we first met, he would get it correctly. He even remembered the color of my shirt that day or what we ate after. He remembered all of the complete names of his classmates since elementary, even their birthdays. He is close to getting a photographic memory, but he said there are some details he missed.

His memory was impressive, but in this case, I think both of us got it wrong. Maybe we were too immersed with the whole intruder thing; instead, we met a rather young-looking helpless lad that clouded our memory. 

"Where do you think this guy came from?" I asked as we moved toward the living room. "Do you think he caused that impact?" I added.

"It's impossible. If he caused the impact yesterday with that small body of his, I'm afraid he will die immediately. I doubt he can move an inch of that wall." Perth theorizes.

Agreed. When this property was built, I made sure that the walls were extra thick and massive to avoid intruders. Besides, the engineering firm that worked on that wall was one of the most trusted firms in the country. 

"I think he entered the property after the impact, but where did he get those wounds?"

"The question is not WHERE, but WHY?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did he get those wounds? Is he an ex-convict? Is he a male prostitute thrown by gangsters? You know, questions like that?"

I pouted, then sucked the air. "I don't think those questions make sense. Firstly, does Port look like an ex-convict? Secondly--well, he could be, but he doesn't...seemed...he doesn't seem like a male prostitute." I said, staggering. He looked like an innocent lad to me, but some prostitutes looked innocent too, so I wasn't sure. But I would stick to the idea that he wasn't.

"There's also a part of me that thinks he is a spy," said Perth as he sat on the couch.

"What? That's ridiculous," I laughed at the idea.

"Imagine that loud impact yesterday. It could be from someone who hates you, then, planted a spy—in disguise of a young, helpless lad." Perth motioned theatrically. "It could be between this two: first, if you will report it to the authorities, you and I will be the suspects of a heinous assault or worst--attempted murder,"

My jaw dropped hearing his sputtered nonsense. "A what?"

"Second," he continued, "If you keep him, he will act like a Trojan Horse,"

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "That's what you get from watching too many investigative documentaries,"

"But Eros, we can't deny any possibilities. You are in the heat of controversy and adding this on your plate is not a good PR,"

"I might be affected by what the media paints of me. What matters the most is how my loved ones view me," I almost puked saying those.

"Awwww…" Perth gestured dramatically; he suddenly rolled his eyes. He knew that wasn't me saying it. "Not you--calling me one of your "loved ones" when you're my first heartbreak," he said, then crossed his arms.

"We're better off best friends. Your feelings for me were pure puppy love, not even an infatuation." I chuckled.

"But seriously, Eros, when will you introduce me to your 'the one'?"

I heaved a sigh. I don't really like hearing questions like that. I hated how everyone thinks you need someone to be happy--that you needed someone to complete your life. You could be both happy and single at the same time.

"You know my answer," I answered shortly, then slouched on the couch. 

"Eros Cuevas, your family name sounds like a cave, doesn't mean you have to stay in a cave. I know you are satisfied with what you have right now and genuinely happy with few people in your life, but how will you know the difference if you have never tried?"

"Remember when I asked you how it feels when you love someone?" I asked. Perth's brows furrowed.

"I said, your body is uncontrollable; you shiver even if the night is hot and humid. Your heart pumps abnormally even if you're only lying in bed, your mouth can't stop talking about that person even if it's off-topic, and your mind is blank. That person is living there rent-free," Perth answered, the exact same words he said to me years ago.

"Exactly," I said, pointing my index up. "However, my body is beyond my control," 

"Eros, you can't compare my experiences to yours. We have different bodies. How I felt it might not be the same with how you will feel it," Perth argued.

 "I am open to love, but it seems like love is not open for me," I just shrugged, "Thank you, Perth, I think I need to rest for now," I stood and left Pert in my living room.

"Hey!" Perth called, but I continued to walk away.

I had to end the topic because it might backfire on me. Also, I haven't had a good sleep since what happened last night and the whole intruder fiasco. Last night was a rollercoaster ride for me; I have never encountered such a terrifying night since I was nine years old.

Seeing that myriad of blood reminded me of my miserable childhood at the hands of my abusive adoptive parents. Around my back was a vivid, diagonal, keloidal mark that extends to my ribcage I got from a whip when I broke a glass. Tiny scratches fainted with time and ragged flaws around my arms and legs from multiple beatings from small mistakes. All these deformities shined in my dark skin, living proof of that ugly past.

Thanks to the hands who embraced me, that suffering had ended. Looking back, I saw myself from this young lad.

My room was the exact opposite to Port—the naked intruder. I softly knocked, then opened the door of his room. There, I saw him lying on the bed; I observed the sleeping stranger, and his facial features were delicate. If I hadn't seen him naked, I would have mistaken him for being a female.

Small bruised face framed with coal-black hair, plump lips, and fair pearl skin. Though sleeping, I also remembered his wide stunning dark brown eyes under the formed brows--somewhat looked familiar to me.

Port. What a weird name.

How could he remember his name and not his backstory? And why was it Port? It sounds like a name of a pet or a dock. Whoever gave him that name might be joking or just running out of unique names?

All of a sudden, Port moved and let out a small groan. I could only imagine the pain he was dealing with presently. With all those deep wounds in his body, I wondered how he could lay flat on his back like that? 

When I was lashed with a whip, I could only sleep lying sidewards or on my stomach. Or when I knelt on the shards of glass I accidentally broke, I couldn't wear pants or bend my knees for weeks.

I immediately vacated the room and entered mine. When Port awakes, I have readied tons of questions to ask.