~Mature themes~

Svane spent the next two weeks steering clear of Mr. Nicolau and following his laid out schedule to a T. Even so, there were a few nights the vampire still appeared in his dreams. However, rather than doling out pain, he teased Svane endlessly, leaving him in a permanent state of frustration.

The day before the day, Svane woke to a dead silent house. For once he didn’t hear Mrs. Smith cooking away in the kitchen but on the nightstand table next to him were car keys and a note. I can… leave? 

Svane expected to hear a thunderous reply but was met with only silence. With some extra pep in his step, he headed to his bathroom for the morning shower. This time, he took a long look in the mirror and blinked in surprise at the man staring back at him. 

His silver hair glittered under the warm lighting, his ends now reaching his hips. Svane had always been well built, but now his muscles seemed more prominent and he flexed his chest and arms in wonder. He’d never looked so healthy in his twenty-seven years and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that flitted across his lips; even his skin was glowing!

It hasn’t been all bad I guess… He washed his body thoughtlessly as he dwelled on the previous “dream” and how Mr. Nicolau seemed to be gentler than on previous nights. It was by far the most intense of the nightly dream visits, and Svane felt his neck heat up. 

His watch beeped at him and he hurriedly finished rinsing off before hopping out the shower. After his second time being late from his morning shower and the resulting punishment, he’d invested in one of those fancy watches with a clock and used it for most of his activities. He gave himself a buffer of five minutes for times like these where his thoughts wandered. 

He opened his now full closet, wondering if dressing up in the $500 suit he bought for the fun of it would be too much on a Tuesday morning. Eh, why not? 

Once fully dressed, Svane decided to spray some cologne as well. Might as well go all out. 

The note had said he could eat out as long as he stayed within the parameters of his specified diet, but Svane didn’t want to chance it and headed to the kitchen for leftovers. 

I wonder if he’ll come to see me tonight? He’s been looking… older lately. 

The wrinkles that lined his face when they first met had returned over time and even in his dreams the vampire seemed slower as if weighed by his age. Does not eating enough really age him like that or…? 

Svane shook his head as he finished eating the porridge and bowl of mixed fruit from dinner the night before. It wasn’t his place to question what was going on with Mr. Nicolau’s appearance. He had the day to himself it seemed and he would enjoy it, dang it. 

The keys turned out to belong to a midnight black Porsche sitting in the five-car garage next to the large, renovated antebellum-style home. Even as excitement coursed through his veins, his mind lingered on the last sentence of Mr. Nicolau’s note. Take care of my body, please. 

So rather than peeling out of the driveway like what he’d planned when he originally read of the car privileges in the contract, he carefully pulled out onto the road. Apparently, the car had voice recognition and Svane cleared his throat before saying, “Directions to Sutherland’s.”

The screen next to the dashboard flashed and a voice began to parrot directions. He is beyond loaded. Despite himself, he began to wonder what Mr. Nicolau did for a living. And if he’s a vampire, isn’t he unable to go out in the daylight? 

Svane had never thought to ask, but again felt it wasn’t his place to know that information. At least not now. He knew Mr. Nicolau still didn’t trust him all the way, just as Svane felt hesitant to give himself completely to the vampire. But he had less than 24 hours to find some peace in his decisions. 

Who are you kidding? The darker, more pathetic side of him grouched. You’ve done more for less!

Though he agreed, the truth of it was exactly as the darker part of him said; he liked being taken care of, not worrying about his next meal or where he would sleep. And sure, it could be more than just feeding the vampire, but he had the distinct impression that Mr. Nicolau wouldn’t do more to him without his permission. 

The rest of the drive Svane could only think about the next day. He was supposed to wake an hour earlier than usual and eat whatever spread Mrs. Smith prepared before heading to Mr. Nicolau’s chambers at the opposite end of the property. 

Stop thinking about it! 

He was ruining his “vampire-free” day but it was like his brain was a dog with a bone. Even as he pulled into the rundown music hall parking lot, all he could see was the vampire’s beautiful, young face crumpling into the wrinkled and lined one he’d first seen almost a month ago. I guess feeding really is that important…

The chaotic thumping of drums underscored by someone plucking at the bass finally snapped him out of thoughts of his mysterious “benefactor.” He’d chosen Sutherland’s because he’d missed the dive bar and live music. The day gigs weren’t known for being the best, but the vampire had only given him until five p.m. While he had endless funds at his fingertips, he knew he didn’t have the freedom yet to buy tickets to concerts. 

Not freedom, but trust… He thought about Mr. Nicolau’s aging face again and for the first time, he realized the implications of an immortal being suddenly aging. 

Svane hit something hard, stumbling slightly before righting himself and tossing a glare at the body he’d run into. The other man, clearly a college kid, flipped him the bird before stumbling past him to the parking lot. 

The physical jolt did the trick though and now all Svane could focus on was the upbeat tune coming from the darkened entrance. He nodded along to the beat subconsciously as he headed up the steps in the entryway toward the main floor. 

The early afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows behind the wooden stage at the back of the main room, though it appeared darker due to the smoke clouding the air and the boarded-up windows on the sides of the room. 

Svane normally liked to sit at the bar and drink a few drinks with assorted liquor in them, and then find a body to go home with. This time though, he walked toward one of the few tables that withstood the roughhousing of Sutherland’s rowdy guests and sat in one of the creaky chairs. 

He felt eyes on him and did his best to focus on the band of 3 playing on the stage. Svane was a regular and some of the others were a little nosy. His absence had probably been discussed daily and now with his sudden appearance in fancy clothes sparked the rumor mill. 

Let them talk, I’m here to enjoy the music like everybody else. 

Their eyes bored into him the rest of the afternoon but Svane was able to block out most of them by focusing more on the vibrant music coming from the stage. Every group that had played was a breath of fresh air to him, and he found himself wanting to stay longer. 

“On the house.”

Svane jumped at the sudden bell-like voice at his ear. A large pitcher with pink liquid was placed in front of him with a bendy straw. Normally he’d jump to drink, but felt the weight of the setting sun and his growling stomach prevent him from accepting it. 

“Thanks, Lolly, but gotta go!” 

He had brought cash with him and left large tips in both the band and bar jar before making a hurried exit. Svane had luckily set an alarm for the last possible second he could leave Sutherland’s and make it back home on time. However, he sped a bit once he hit the back roads to make up the time he’d gotten stuck in unexpected traffic. 

Ring! Ring! Ring!

The final alarm rang as Svane pulled into the garage crookedly. 

Damn it! He had planned to sneak in through the side door of his bedroom, but seeing Mr. Nicolau’s BMW parked neatly when it’d been missing earlier that day told him sneaking around would be useless. 

Still, Svane couldn’t help but open the door leading into the house. He shut the light off behind him before slowly turning the knob so when he pushed closed it wouldn’t click. He could faintly hear Mrs. Smith in the kitchen and he remembered that tonight’s meal was meat, something Mr. Nicolau’s prescribed a diet rarely had. It was another reminder that tomorrow he’d be drained of most of his blood. 

“I think you should return him.”