CHAPTER THREE

Emilio's POV

I take Lucas's hand, leading him to my house in silence. Inside, the familiar surroundings seem to shrink with his presence.

"Where have you been?" I demand, turning to face him.

Lucas's gaze wanders around my living room, lingering on scattered design books and art supplies.

"Busy," he replies, his voice cryptic.

I fold my arms, eyes narrowing. "Busy isn't an answer, Lucas."

His smile resurfaces, but I sense a hint of unease.

"I had matters to attend to," he elaborates.

"Matters?" I press my tone firm.

Lucas's eyes lock onto mine, their intensity making my heart skip a beat.

"Emilio, I—" he begins.

The doorbell interrupts, shattering the moment.

"I'll get it," I mutter.

I saw a box and instantly knew the delivery man dropped the items I ordered for last week.

"Who?" He asked.

"A dispatch rider." I replied. I don't care what I said.

Lucas's eyes linger on the door, his expression unreadable.

"I should go," he says. But I'm not ready to let him disappear again. Not yet, not when I don't know if he'll leave again.

"No," I protested.

Lucas's gaze snaps back, surprise flickering across his face.

"Why?" he asks.

I take a deep breath, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I need answers, Lucas. And I need you."

Lucas's gaze lingers on mine, searching for something. Then, he exhales, and his expression softens.

"I traveled," he admits. "I need time to clear my head."

Relieved he's opening up, I nod encouragingly.

"Where did you go?" I stared at him intently, he didn't seem like he was going to say but I asked anyway.

Lucas smiles mischievously. "Everywhere. Nowhere. Does it matter?"

I chuckled at his nonchalance. "I guess not." I like him. I love him. A lot.

We settle into a comfortable silence, the tension dissipating.

"Your place is... eclectic," Lucas observes, eyeing my art supplies.

I grin. "That's one word for it. Others might say chaotic."

Lucas teases, "And I thought graphic designers were organized."

"Hey, creativity is messy," I defended as I threw my hands in the air trying to capture the whole room in a bid to show my arts.

Our banter flows effortlessly, filling the room with laughter.

As we talk, I realize how much I've missed him. Our connection strengthens with each shared story.

We discover common ground in music, movies, and books. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the same man acting tough a few minutes ago.

"Favorite author?" Lucas asked.

"Gabriel García Márquez," I replied as I smiled, remembering some of the other authors that I love. Authors like Chinua Achebe who is from Nigeria. An African country.

Lucas's eyes light up. "Love One Hundred Years of Solitude."

Lucas stands, stretching. "Want to grab some fresh air?"

I nod, and we step outside into the crisp night. Our hands brush, rekindling the spark.

"Lucas?" I ask.

"Yes?" He replied curtly.

"Stay tonight." His eyes lock onto mine, searching.

Then, a soft smile spreads.

"Okay."

The air thickens as our eyes meet, the tension between us palpable.

"Lucas?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

His gaze intensifies, burning with desire. I take a step closer, my heart pounding in anticipation.

Lucas mirrors my move, our lips almost touching. The tension explodes, and we crash into each other. Our lips collide, passion ignites like wildfire.

Hands roam, exploring each other's skin. Clothes disappear, shed without hesitation.

We both gave in to the burning desire. Desire of the flesh, call it whatever you want.

While kissing, we both went back inside the house, I don't know how that was possible but yeah, we did. The room spins, a blur of colors. Pleasure overwhelms, my every nerve alive.

****

We lie entwined, basking in the afterglow, when I gently ask, "Lucas, tell me about your family." Maybe this was quite a sensitive topic but I couldn't help but ask.

His expression darkens, and his voice cracks as he whispers, "My family was taken from me. They were murdered."

I sit up, shocked, and take his hand. "Oh, Lucas, I'm so sorry."

He nods, pain etched on his face. "It happened when I was a teenager. The case was never solved."

I pull him close, offering comfort. "I'm here for you now. I know I can never relate since I have a complete family but rest assured that I'm here." I was encouraged.

Lucas's eyes turn cold, a hint of vulnerability beneath. "No one knows. I've kept it hidden all these years."

His eyes got moist but he masked it off with a painful smile. "You're the first person I've told."

My heart aches, he saw me as a person with confidence in me. "I'm honored, Lucas. Thank you for trusting me."

He looks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "Emilio?"

"Yes?"

"I'm scared," he admits, his eyes haunted.

"Of what?" I ask, my voice soft.

"Never mind." He muttered and looked away.

As I hop out of bed, Lucas's eyes follow me, his gaze lingering.

"Making coffee?" he asks, his voice husky.

I nod, heading to the kitchen.

Reaching for a knife to slice a lemon, my grip slips.

The blade slices through my finger, and I cussed in pain.

"What the fuck!"

Blood oozes from the cut, and Lucas rushes in, his face pale.

"Emilio, dammit!" he exclaims.

But instead of concern, his eyes spark with something primal.

His pupils dilate, and his breathing quickens.

"Lucas?" I ask, uneasy.

He's transfixed by the blood, his eyes fixed on the crimson flow.

"Lucas, snap out of it!" I shouted. I was a man too but seeing him looking at me like a prey pricks the freaking hell out of me.

For an instant, I see a stranger – someone unfamiliar, someone unnerving.

A shiver runs down my spine.

"Lucas, what the fuck is wrong with you right now?" I asked as I stood upright. This wasn't funny anymore.

He shakes his head, his expression was unreadable.

"I... I don't know," he stammers. "Sorry, never mind." He added.

What's with this 'Nevermind' every now and then?

"Don't tell me never mind because I mind, alot." I started and it sounded harsh with a deep baritone voice.

Lucas's eyes lock onto mine, burning with an otherworldly intensity.

His face contorts, revealing razor-sharp fangs that gleam in the dim light. I try to pull back, but he's too fast, his movements blur.

Lucas pinned me on the wall, sinking his fangs into my neck with deadly precision. Pain explodes, followed by a rush of euphoria that clouds my mind. As his hot breath caresses my skin, reality shatters.

This isn't love; this isn't passion.

This is hunger.

The terrifying truth hits me like a tidal wave.

Lucas is a vampire.

I try to push him away, but Lucas holds tight, his grip unyielding.

Feasting on my blood, drinking my life. I'm paralyzed, frozen in horror.

I fell for a monster.

And now.

I'm his prey.