Chasing Pavements

eleven

eleven
-
𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊

I had no idea why I had been following him; it was beyond me that I had even approached him and decided to take his hand. Perhaps I did. Who wouldn't want to appease a man like that?

That's probably a stupid thing to do. I'm a blithering idiot.

"Guten Morgen, Chef. Schön dich zurück zu haben." From where I was looking in the mirror, the driver tipped his hat. Stavros gave him a nod. Good morning, boss. Good to have you back.

Strom sat at the front seat with a stoic expression on his face. He looked different. Back in high school, he was all sun shines and rainbows; but now, he's like a cold wall of iron. Perhaps it was just because we were with other people, because when he spoke to me alone, he was warm and smiled a lot.

Stavros, as well. He was mellower with me, but he was not the same with the men. I'm not sure if it's a leadership thing or not. He was cold, quiet, and had menacing eyes. He's both familiar and strange at the same time.

"Please excuse me," Before answering his phone, he turned to face me. "Was willst du?" He greets the person on the phone with furrowed brows and piercing eyes. What do you want?

I turn away from the tinted windows. Germany was stunning. I had never traveled before, but I realized how much I had been missing out on. The world was so bright and beautiful that it's a shame I'd only seen it in greyscale. Tall historical buildings, lush green trees and grass, it was all breathtaking.

I caught Stavros looking at me with adoring eyes out of the corner of my eye. I grin. He appeared to have calmed down after his heated conversation. I'm curious if it had anything to do with Mercy, whoever they were.

"Have you ever traveled before?" I winced. I shook my head and turned to face the source of the question.

"No," I said, looking down at my lap. "I'd never been anywhere other than Greece."

"Hmm. So far, how do you like the scenery?"

The corners of my mouth twitched. "It's stunning. Truly and entirely beautiful."

"Indeed." I peered through my lashes at him, expecting him to be staring out the window like I was, but instead he was staring right at me with his piercing red eyes.

Heat crept up my cheeks.

I take a gander in the rearview mirror. Strom had obviously bitten the inside of his cheek, preventing a smile from forming. He's a peculiar man.

We were enshrouded in a serene silence. We had passed several historic-looking houses and were now surrounded by tall trees. The driver had only spoken twice: once to greet Stavros and once to tell us that we were getting pretty close to the mansion. He'd spoken in English, but with a thick, rusty accent.

A large red gate approached us and slowly opened. A fountain stood in the center of the entrance area, alongside a small koi fish pond with a tiny bridge; various flowers and plants adorned the seamless grass, and a massive mansion stood before us. I was awestruck. I didn't think I'd ever seen anything more beautiful than this. I half expected Stavros to live in a more modern home, but instead I was confronted with a castle. It was smaller than most castles, but it was large enough to house an army.

The car came to a stop in front of the large wooden doors. Strom exited the vehicle shortly after the driver. I was about to open the door to my left when I felt a hand on my arm stop me. I let go of the lever. How chivalrous of him to want to open the door for me. He appeared on my side with the door open and a hand extended to me.

I took the hand, both by force of habit and by instinct. Mother had always told me that even if you didn't want to, whenever a firm hand is offered to you, take it. It would be impolite of you not to.

Despite the fact that she wasn't present, my body acted before I could think.

"Welcome to Nuremberg." Stavros spoke in a low, monotonous tone. If this was how he greeted most visitors to his home, I doubt they would stay long.

"I'll take her," Strom said as soon as we entered the mansion, where a large staircase awaited us. "Lasse is looking for you." I'm guessing it was intended for Stavros.

I observed as his jaw clenched and a scowl formed on his face. They were probably not in his favor, whoever this Lasse was. Strom extended his arm to me. I turn to look at Stavros for confirmation. He cocks his brow, but eventually nods.

Force of habit, once again. Damn it.

"See you later," Stavros says as he walks out the door.

Strom bows his head as he drifts away. He casts a glance down at me before returning his gaze to the front. "Well, I suppose I should show you around."

We passed through various doors, open windows, and vintage paintings before arriving at the west wing, as it was referred to. According to him, this is where they kept the majority of their visitors. It was far more opulent than I was used to. My room was larger than the one I had previously. I didn't sleep in an attic, as most books have you believe. My mother was gracious enough to provide me with a decent room. Though I shouldn't have to be grateful for it, she was abusive, manipulative, and lacked accountability.

"This is where you'll stay," he said as I walked around the spacious room. At the very least, this could fit an entire classroom.

Large windows let in light; a four-poster bed fit for a duchess; a walk-in closet that could have put my room to shame; a luxurious bathroom; it had it all.

"It's so..." I faltered.

"So?" he asks, his face expectant.

"Beautiful." As I fingered the soft comforter, I complimented it. "It looks like it was made for royalty."

"Of course, this was made for Svenja Schröpfer," he said, pausing to face me. "Stavros' mother. On his eighteenth birthday, she gave him this."

I didn't have any complaints about the room, but I couldn't help but wonder why he was here. The words slipped from my mouth before I could even consider whether it was appropriate for me to question him.

"Strom," I said as I exhaled. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

His eyes widen slightly, as if he wasn't expecting such a question. When he chuckled, I was about to apologize. "Vernamina, the question should be directed to you. What exactly are you doing here?" Though his tone was lighthearted, I could hear an undertone in his voice.

"I-I asked you first." I raised my chin, exuding confidence. "I had no idea you were one of us." I slapped myself internally for that.

Of course, I wouldn't have known because we were acquaintances, not old friends. It was impolite of me to even imply that I needed to know.

"I'm sorry, don't answer that-"

"I did pretty well at hiding, didn't I?" he smirked. "But you were far greater; if you hadn't been related to Damocles Dimitrious, I'd never guessed or even wondered if you were of this world; pure things, nice and sweet things, they don't belong here; everything would ruin them."

My nails pierced the skin of my hands.

"I don't even know... why I led to this," I admit. "How did you meet Stavros?" I asked, changing the subject. I knew if I kept questioning him, he'd try his hardest to get it out of me: why I was here.

"Hmm," he thought as he looked up at the intricately painted ceiling. "He, Damocles, and I were in the same class. I'm surprised you didn't know him; he was quite popular."

"He was from the academy?"

"Yes, he passed you several times. You were probably so engrossed in your own little world that you didn't notice the great king, huh?"

"How come I've never met him?" More of a statement, I inquired. He ignored my question and went on blabbering. "Was he an exchange student or something else?"

"Perhaps that's why the great king never failed to notice you," he said quietly.