Connections

II ~ Changes

"Alright, that's good enough for now." I placed my brush gently on the my easel. It was old, and had a lot of paint stuck in it from countless, previous paintings I'd done in the past. This one here was just like them.

I wanted something new to paint.

I, once again, pushed the door to my kitchen open to find everything how it usually is. "Maybe yesterday really was a dream," I wondered for a moment.

That didn't last long.

It started with a thumping sound coming from the stairs, followed by a light humming. I balled up my fists, still uncomfortable with another person in my home - in my family's home. However, the mystery man from the previous night was a guest. Even I knew that you can't just turn people away, especially if they're injured.

Although, he didn't look injured. Not in the slightest.

The man walked into the room with only the slightest limp. His bandages were fresh - must've gotten himself new ones - and his aura was still so... fascinating. His curly, matted ginger locks had been tousled slightly to rest on his head in a playful fashion, and his glittering cerulean eyes reflected the same mood. His skin had a dark tan, and was decorated with muscle all throughout his body. A small iron crucifix adorned his chest, one with a comparatively large and dark ruby which confused me by reminding me of something that I couldn't put my finger on, nor the feeling it incurred.

Aaand he was only covered with a couple towels.

"Hey!!" I gasped, averting my gaze. "Uhm, w-what do you think you're doing, uh, coming in here like... that? Don't you have any clothes?"

"Nah."

I waited for more.

"Just... Nah?"

"Well, yeah. I don't got anything else, so instead of coming in here el solo lupo, I thought I'd be gracious enough to grab a little something. See, my other shtuff is kinda drenched," He finished, casually sitting next to me and wincing from his wound. I gasped lightly.

"You should, uh, be more careful with that. It-it could get worse." 

He grinned at me with the most intoxicating smile I've ever seen, and replied with a tone to match: "It's fine, I've had worse."

We stayed there for awhile, staring, until I realized how creepy I was being.

"Oh," I said, hurtling up from my seat. "Do you want breakfast? I forgot that - nevermind. Do you want anything?"

The man leaned in towards me. I gulped. Then he said, in a low whisper:

"Got any mac?"

"What?"

"You know, the good shtuff," He replied, resettling into his seat and resting his elbow on the counter. "The mac! The Big Mac! Mac Attack! M.A.C.! Not the McDonald's one, though. The good kind... Did you grow up in America?"

I stared at him, completely perplexed at his enthusiasm.

Wait...

Does he mean drugs?!

I stood up. "No, and I won't hesitate to call the police if that's what you're looking for."

The man sat for a second, now equally perplexed as me.

We both stared for a moment in silence.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Then the man whispered

"I just wanted some mac n' cheese..."