"I never cheated!" My dad's voice reverberated across the brunch table in the lush garden. The table was a vibrant display of fruits, scrambled eggs, avocado slices, and three different juices: apple, melon, and grapefruit. My mother had even prepared pancakes adorned with blueberries and strawberries. But the mood was all but celebratory.
"You're never home before 10. What's with all these late nights? You think I don't notice? You think I'm that naive not to see you're having an affair with her?" My mother's voice quivered with anger.
Amidst their heated argument, they completely overlooked me, as they often did. Today was meant to be my birthday, and the brilliant weather had compelled my parents to set up a birthday brunch on the outside terrace. We rarely had Saturday morning brunches, but birthdays were an exception. The last time I genuinely felt celebrated was when I turned twelve. After that, my parents had become consumed by their own problems and the chaos of the outside world.
As the argument continued, my interest waned.I had heard it all before. Instead, my eyes were gliding over the beautiful garden with it's roses and tulips and tall trees. But then, something peculiar caught my eye behind the nearest bushes. It was a substantial figure, concealed and lurking. My curiosity piqued, and my eyes widened. Could it be...?
"There's something behind the bush! It looks like a very big animal," I exclaimed, but my words fell on deaf ears.
"She's working with me. I have a lot of work, and she's just a colleague, okay? What do you want me to do? Fire her?" My dad stood up, stormed back into the house, with my mother in pursuit, bickering all the way.
The "animal" was no animal at all; it was a human, a young man. As I slowly approached him I noticed he appeared to be injured, and he beckoned me to keep quiet by placing a bloodied finger to his lips."Shhhhhh" he indicated. But my parents were already out of ear sight. His desperate, wide-open eyes told me that he was in dire need of assistance.
"Help me," he whispered, trembling and clutching his bloody stomach. "Please, help me. I'm dying."
Without hesitation, I offered to summon help, but he gripped my arm tightly, preventing me from leaving.
"No, just help me..to lie down. I'm cold. Very cold," he murmured, shivering. His pale skin was clammy, and his fear was palpable.
After a brief hesitation, I took his uninjured arm, supporting his weight and guided him inside the house. A trail of blood marked our path, making it seem as though I had committed a heinous act. Somehow, I managed to get him up the staircase and onto my bed. Only then did I realize he was completely naked.
"Warmth... I am so cold," he moaned. I should have called an ambulance or alerted my parents, but instead, I wrapped him in my green blanket and lay beside him, providing whatever body warmth I could muster. Overwhelmed and exhausted, I drifted into a deep sleep.
**SUNDAY**
I awoke from the strangest dream I'd ever had – the dream of taking a dying, blood-soaked, young man with dark violet hair and hazel brown eyes into my bed. My heart raced at the vivid memory. The morning sun illuminated my room as I searched for any trace of the dream. It all felt incredibly real and surreal at the same time. I reached out to make sure, reassured by feeling only the mattress beneath my outstretched palms.
"Don't panic," a cold, strangely melodic voice broke the silence.
I froze in terror, shivers coursing down my spine. The voice emanated from the window. I turned towards it, only to find a tall, naked young man with dark violet hair, dark brown eyes, and pale skin, standing there, fully healed, his body perfectly toned and muscular. It wasn't a dream.
"If you come any closer, I will scream," I warned.
He rolled his eyes, "I told you not to panic, and the first thing you do is panic."
"Are you going to attack me?" I asked, clutching my pillow as if it were a shield.
"I won't move until you tell me to," he calmly replied.
"Weren't you dying? How are you not dead? Who are you?" I inched away from him.
"That's a long story. You won't like it," he said apologetically. "My name is Prince Bûgwardhamyin, from the Bîrkkrach ruling party and heir to the throne of the Old Empire. But on your planet, I would most likely be identified as .." he hesitated, "a parasite."
"Ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh!" I screamed, as an agonizing wound suddenly appeared on my upper arm. Pain coursed through my body, more intense than anything I'd ever felt before.
"If you don't mind, I will come closer. You should know that we are from now on bonded, which means we can't get away from each other, unless you want to die," he explained.
I couldn't speak; the pain was excruciating. He took a step closer, and the pain eased as the wound began to heal.
"What is this? What the hell have you done to me?" I demanded, my anger replacing the pain.
"Can I come closer? It will make it better," he asked. His voice was filled with regret.
I nodded, allowing him to approach. The pain started vanishing, and the wound became smaller.
"What is this? What the hell have you done to me?" I asked again, my voice shaking.
"I'm sorry. I can't control what happened. You must have created a bond with me when you held me last night. You saved my life," he said with a slight smile.
"And that's how you thank me?" I retorted, feeling a mix of anger and confusion.
He stepped carefully closer.
"What did you do to me?NO!" I shouted, before he could take another step. I tried to stop the bleeding with my hand, but the pain was excruciating.
"Please, I can fix this," he repeated.
Reluctantly, I nodded, and the pain subsided as soon as he was right in front of me. He touched my arm, and the red mark that seconds ago was a an open wound, had completely healed.
"What was this? What the hell have you done to me?" I asked, still shaken.
"I am sorry. But this is not something I can control." he replied, sounding contrite.
My mind raced with questions and suspicions, but one thing was undeniable: he was naked, standing inches away from me, and I couldn't help but notice his incredible physique and handsome face.
"Are you..." He began to say but stopped short.
"Am I what?" I inquired. Oh no! I was feeling …desire. And embarrassment at the idea he had noticed what he had awoken in me.
"...ill?" He blurted out. "Your pulse is very high." He raised an eyebrow. "You seem very stressed. Your heart is beating uncommonly fast, and your pupils are..." he began to say.
"I don't need your analysis!" I interrupted, mortified by his observation.
"Fine, suit yourself," He replied, a flicker of boredom on his face. "But you do look very unwell; maybe you should lie down." His expression was cold, distant even.
"No, I'm not unwell," I protested, trying to regain my composure.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his face said "I know you are lying" but he had the kindness not to say it.
This whole situation had taken an unreal turn. I was sharing my room with a stranger, a naked one at that, who appeared to be incredibly handsome and had a peculiar effect on me. To complicate all things, I had no idea what he was nor what he would do to me.
All I knew was: I was now bonded to this enigmatic stranger. He revealed that he had been sent to our planet as a punishment for refusing the throne, effectively making him an exile. To survive in the human world, he had to form a symbiotic bond with another human, a predicament that I couldn't help but feel sorry for, much to his delight. After an uncomfortable silence, he asked if I had clothes he could wear, citing that the room temperature was less than pleasant.
"Of course," I replied reluctantly, leading him into my parents' bedroom to find some suitable attire. As he changed in front of me, my heart fluttered inexplicably. He looked striking in a blue cashmere pullover, and we settled on a pair of shorts as the jeans were too large.
"What about all the blood?" I suddenly remembered the trail of blood that had marked our path earlier. However, now there was not a single drop to be seen.
"It's not human blood, so it doesn't behave the same way," he casually explained. Then, a glimmer of excitement lit up his eyes, "Does your dad have a motorbike? I really want to try it."
"No chance. I have a math test tomorrow, so we're going back to my room to study," I responded firmly.
He looked at me hopefully, "Do you even feel sorry for me, being sent here in exile, rejected by my own kind, my own father?"
"A little, yes. Sorry this happened. Now, I have to study," I pushed him aside, his touch giving me a faint electric current coursing through my veins. This situation was proving to be more challenging than I could have ever imagined. When I finally looked at him, he had an expression of absolute bliss on his face.
"What IS this?" He exclaimed, his eyes filled with happiness and wonder.
"What is what?" I asked, bewildered.
"This...feeling, when you said 'Sorry this happened.' It's amazing. This is great. Do it again!" He ordered.
I stared at him, taken aback. "You mean, because I felt sorry for you?"
"Do you? Do you really?" He looked at me with anticipation, his muscles tense.
"Are you..." I struggled to make sense of it all, "addicted to empathy?"
"Empathy..." he whispered solemnly as if he had just discovered the secret of humanity. "This is awesome. Give me more!" He pleaded.
"No. You are very weird," I said, thoroughly perplexed. He was a strange, needy being who resembled a human but acted like something entirely different.
I moved past him and ensuring he wasn't too far away. The memory of the excruciating pain I had experienced earlier still lingered in my mind. "I need to study."