Chapter 8: In the Home of a Vampire

How could Maria be so stupid?!

She flung off the luxurious comforter as her mind raced. Three days at this new job, and she had already f*cked things up.

Maria tore open the dark curtains allowing the daylight to spill in. Her mind still raced, screaming at her to do something— run to work, call and tell them a near-death illness had kept her from coming in (after all, stupidity was an illness, right)?

But her body gave up. It felt hopeless.

Maria plopped into a plush red velvet chair by the window. Often, this feeling was what happened in moments of stress. Her fight-flight-freeze mode didn't seem to have an "or" button, and instead, all three kicked in simultaneously.

"I've got breakf—" Alessandro's voice started, but at the sight of the open window, the silver tray holding toast, omelets, and strawberries all came clattering to the ground.

"Gods, I'm so sorry!" Maria was on her feet in half a second, pulling the curtains shut, ensuring that all signs of sunlight were sealed away.

"It's safe, I promise," Maria said timidly.

Alessandro approached the bedroom doorway again, only this time, instead of his smooth, polished skin greeting her, his cheeks and exposed forearms were now covered in red splotches.

"Oh gods, Alessandro!" Maria's voice carried across the room, stricken with concern. "Is that all from just now?"

He brushed back his long hair, already combed and put together as if he were eternally frozen in time. If not for the hint of dark circles beneath his eyes and the new outfit he wore, Maria would have doubted he was actually real.

"Yeah," he sheepishly pulled down the sleeves of his hoodie. "The garlic thing may be a myth, but the sun thing sure isn't. It was only a few seconds of exposure, though; it will fade here in a few minutes.”

His cheeks blared bright red, and Maria suspected that the deep coloring wasn't all from the sun exposure. It seemed hard to believe that a vampire would have anything to be embarrassed about when just the mere mention of the word ‘vampire’ struck fear in the hearts of millions (or, in Savannah's case, awe). But there he was now kneeling before her, fumbling to pick up the dishes and averting his gaze.

"Here, let me," Maria hurriedly moved to what looked like a crime scene with the omelets smeared across the floor combined with the spilled coffee — the real tragedy of it all.

"I've got it," Alessandro insisted. His hand skimmed over hers as he plucked a fork from her fingers. "How about you just start another pot of coffee."

He smiled at her, and Maria looked him in the eyes for the first time. The gray seemed to sparkle from them as specks of white danced around the edges.

Alessandro reached across, picking up one of the mugs beside her foot. He then extended the empty cup out to her, expressing in his best Oliver Twist impression, "Please, sir, may I have some more."

Maria fell out in laughter, hardly able to keep herself from rocking backward to his horrible attempt at a British accent. When she could finally compose herself, she grabbed the empty cup from his hand.

"On it," she said, striding out of the room to find his kitchen and living room floorplan set up in an exact deja vu replica of her place. However, instead of meager furnishings and a plant daycare Maria was greeted by long draped curtains at nearly every window made of heavy clothes of bright reds and purples that continued the gothic theme from his room.

The kitchen appeared to have been redone with a double oven and 80s style refrigerator replacing the originals. A Spanish-inspired backsplash of pastel tiles somehow complemented the curtains' coloring.

Maria stood by an elegant-looking Victorian couch in the living room and claw-foot coffee table. The walls were covered in art from all eras. A goddess lounging in a garden, a Mona Lisa replicant, and a large painting of The Last Supper all drew her eye. To add to its beauty, none of the portraits appeared to be anything purchasable in a Walmart or Target; instead, seeming to have an old quality that made it all the more beautiful.

"This definitely looks like the home of a former Vampire King estranged from his home," Maria called over her shoulder.

Alessandro stepped out of the bedroom, the tray now neatly stacked with all the items back on it.

"I took a little souvenir from each lifetime I've lived. The curtains, though, those are from my childhood." His voice held a softness to it as he scanned the room, nostalgic towards his collection.

Maria ran her hand gently down the longest pair of curtains that covered the sliding glass doors.

"Please don't open those," Alessandro teased. Maria stuck her tongue out at him then, at that moment, remembered what had caused her to do that exact thing this morning.

"F*ck!" she exclaimed, the fight-flight-freeze once again hitting her body. "I have to find my phone; I never showed up for work last night!"

"Oh," Alessandro frowned, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, or I would have woken you."

"No, it's not your fault; I was the one who was trying to low-key poison you to see if you were a vampire or not."

Alessandro raised a finger, "Ah, yes, I put those to good use."

He walked into the kitchen, where he lifted the lid of a pan, and the delicious scent of roasted garlic, tomatoes, and peppers filled the air.

"Hurry back," he said proudly, displaying his dish, "I'll whip us up some more eggs to go with these."

Maria looked between Alessandro and the door, torn between staying in this bubble with him or rushing out to real life.

He misread her hesitation, however, stepping back towards the pantry.

"You can open it. I've got a good hiding place." Alessandro opened the door, somehow managing to fit his tall body inside. "See, all good," his muffled voice said from behind the door.

Maria smiled, wholly taken by this man who seemed both sullen and quirky.

"Okay, B-R-B!" Maria still took no chances and opened the front door just enough so that she could squeeze herself through the sliver of a crack.

***

ALESSANDRO'S POV

The door clicked shut, and Alessandro slid out from the pantry, feeling both slightly foolish and yet more alive at the same time.

Human connection wasn't something he'd ever sought, but there was a pull within him towards this woman that he couldn't explain.

Alessandro went back to the oven, humming a bit as he stirred the vegetables around.

"We need to talk." A soft voice came through Alessandro's head.

His hand froze. He wouldn't respond to her. He wouldn't acknowledge her. She would go away.

"Alessandro!" the voice came forcefully through his mind.

He reached for another egg, carefully cracking it so that his shaking hand did not drop shells into the bowl.

"ALESSANDRO!" the voice yelled, no longer in his head but directly behind him.