The Apocalypse

7

Maurits gently placed Maeve on his bed, tenderly kissing her forehead. "You're my darling. I promised to protect you, and I will," he whispered, his words working like a soothing lullaby as Maeve's eyes fluttered closed.
Just then, Johnny's voice echoed through Maurits' home. "Maurits!" he called out, his tone carrying a mix of shock and disbelief. "You killed Kay?"
Maurits, without a hint of remorse, responded, "He tried to touch what was mine."
Johnny sighed, trying to process the situation. "That's not how the rules work."
Maurits leaned back on the couch, nonchalant and defiant. Tilting his head up to look at Johnny, he replied, "Johnny, do I look like I care about your rules? I made it perfectly clear. Maeve is mine. Mine to love, to protect, to touch, to kiss. Anyone who disrespects this will face the consequences, easily."
Johnny took a deep breath, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Alright, I'll make it a new rule, but if you kill someone, at least try not to make such a mess. As the leader, I have to clean up after you," he said, a smile appearing on his face. He extended his hand, his eyes twinkling with pride. Maurits rolled his eyes but ultimately reached out to shake Johnny's hand in a brotherly manner.
"You did an impressive job, though. Now no one will dare go against you!" Johnny declared with a smirk, letting out a laugh as he plopped down on a nearby chair.
"So how does Catherine know her?"
"I don't know, Maeve doesn't know either, but if Catherine starts pushing I will burn her alive!" He said warningly pouring to glass with wodka.
"I'll talk to Catherine, find out what she knows, and warn her for you," he offered, acknowledging Maurits' need for information and protection.
Maurits' attention was briefly diverted as he heard the soft sound of little feet patting on the wooden floor upstairs. His protective instincts immediately kicked in. "Go to the kitchen, Johnny. Maeve is coming down, and I don't want her to get scared of you," he instructed, his voice filled with concern.
Johnny nodded in understanding, taking the glass of vodka that Maurits handed him. "I'll go to the kitchen."
Maurits nodded appreciatively at Johnny's words, his attention fully focused on the approaching footsteps. As Maeve descended the stairs, he felt a surge of love and protectiveness, determined to shield her from any harm that may come their way.
"Darling," Maurits spoke softly as Maeve's footsteps ceased beside the living room door. She hesitantly entered the room, feeling a tinge of shame for being caught.
"Can't you sleep?" he asked, his eyes shifting to his lap, silently conveying his expectations. Her heart raced as she cautiously approached him, almost as if defying his command by her reluctance.
"Get over here," he warned, his voice tinged with anger at her defiance. She quickly obeyed, standing before him as he grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap.
"I'll ask once more," he said, his voice filled with irritation. "Can't you sleep?"
"No," she whispered after a few seconds of silence. Nestling her head against his chest, she felt his arms tighten around her body, providing a sense of security.
"Why?" Maurits inquired, his curiosity evident in his tone.
It took Maeve a while to find the right words, her tiredness weighing heavily on her as she rested in his embrace. "I never slept in a bed alone," she muttered, struggling to articulate her thoughts. The act of speaking had become foreign to her after a prolonged period of silence.
"Explain, darling," he demanded, his words carrying an underlying harshness. She understood that she would have to explain, one way or another.
Minutes passed as Maeve attempted to string together coherent sentences. "I-I only slept in the same b-bed as m-my sister w-when I was w-with Misses Chumson. A-After that, I never slept in a b-bed again," she finally managed to convey, her voice trembling. Maurits's hand stroked her back, a soothing gesture meant to calm her nerves as she spoke. He pressed a slow kiss to her jaw.
"Very good," he praised, his voice filled with approval.
. Maurits looked down and noticed her eyes closing slowly.
Maeve's eyes lazily drifted towards the second glass as she asked, "Who is here?" Maurits glanced down at her and noticed her eyelids slowly closing.
"Do you want me to sleep with you?" he asked, disregarding her question and focusing on her immediate needs. She didn't respond immediately, taking a moment to consider his words before giving a slow nod.
"Words," he sternly ordered, seeking a clear confirmation from her.
"Yes, please," she whispered, her face snuggling closer to his chest, seeking comfort and security.
"Alright, darling," he replied, acknowledging her response with a nod. Sensing her curiosity, she softly asked again, "Who is here?"
"A friend," he answered, his tone quiet and evasive. "Go upstairs, I will join you in a few minutes." He dismissed her question with those words, suggesting that it was not something she needed to concern herself with.
"Can I meet—" Maeve began, but he abruptly cut her off with an icy glare, his anger evident.
"No! Get upstairs!" he ordered, his tone laced with frustration. His abruptness startled her, and she quickly realized that pushing further on the matter was not wise. Reluctantly, she obeyed his command and made her way upstairs, a flicker of curiosity lingering in her mind.
"Leave, I am going to bed," Maurits ordered Johnny, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"You? To bed? At—" Johnny glanced at the clock, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Seven pm?"
"Yes! Now get the fuck out," Maurits snapped angrily at his friend, his exhaustion evident in his voice.
"Alright, have a good fuck—" Johnny's words were abruptly cut off when Maurits reached over and smacked the back of his head.
"Sorry, have a goodnight," Johnny quickly corrected himself, unable to contain a mischievous giggle before stepping outside the door. He knew better than to test Maurits' patience further.
Maurits sighed heavily as he closed the door behind Johnny, the weight of the day finally catching up with him. He made his way through the dimly lit hallway towards his bedroom, his mind already anticipating the embrace of his girl. He couldn't wait to hold her close to him.
Slipping off his clothes, he climbed into bed. Maeve was half a sleep half awake when he pulled her into his chest.