Mine! (m x b)

Chapter two:Waking Up In An Unfamiliar Home ((Updated 2022))

☆☆☆ What do you like to do when you can't sleep? I just play with my cat since he's always with me ☆☆☆

Camden woke with a start, sweat drenching his face, his hands clutching his comforter tightly. 

It was another one of his nightly nightmares. Glimpses of his father holding a syringe, his mother bruised and bloody, a man with dagger-like fangs, fangs like an animal's. And, the climax and epilogue of the dream--a car crash. 

  It was a stormy afternoon when his father decided to take a spin, with the whole family of course, in his prized Bentley. A tragic hit-and-run involved his family, him, and an unknown driver. Camden barely made it out alive, the metal of the car caused his leg to be amputated, leaving him with an ugly, short, stump, and a mechanical prosthetic. He was young at the time, only about seven or so when he was taken in by his Godparents, Clyde and Lyra Demandante. After ten years with the Demandantes, Camden moved back into his parents' mansion, and become the official CEO of the Silver company, a company that produces silverware, weapons, and other metal works. He lives completely alone in his huge, old mansion, completely lonely. 

 Camden wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced at his alarm clock. The neon red numbers reading three fourty-five A.M. He rolled over in his over-sized, California King mattress, and pulled his prosthetic on, attaching it to what was left of his left leg, before dragging himself out of his bed, and pulled on his bedroom robe. 

He stumbled down the stairs and through the hallway. "Alexa, turn on the lights and start the coffee." He commanded, then sighed in relief as all the chandeliers lit, helping him through his huge house. He grabbed his now filled mug, and dumped caramel coffee creamer in it, before heading to his porch. 

   He sat on one of his comfy chairs on his shaded porch, sipping his hot coffee under the darkened roof, surveying his large acres of lush forests, before choking on his coffee as he noticed a strange lump on his stairs.

Camden sat the cup down on the outdoor table before he grabbed the baseball bat from it's hiding place, behind one of the bushes next to the porch, stepping down each stair stealthily. 

Before him lay an unconscious, disheveled man. "Hello?" Camden whispered, toeing the body gently with his bunny slipper. 

He could be a drug dealer or a rapist... his brain muttered.

But he could also be injured or in need!  his heart cried. 

With a clatter, Camden threw the bat back to it's hiding spot, then grabbed the man from under the legs. His legs wobbled beneath him as Camden struggled to hold up his own weight and the strangers and drag him into the foyer. With a loud grunt, Camden slammed the stranger's body on the chaise, and stretched out his now sore muscles. 

  Now, we wait. Camden thought, relaxing on the loveseat across from the chaise.