The glittering sky of the late evening was looking after its children with its big, round eye; they were beginning to stir, bathing in its grace. They weren't even bothered by the thrumming rhythm that floated amongst the trees. As the speakers of the nightclub started spreading a new beat for the dancing crowd, a young, twenty-five-year-old man slumped into a chair at the bar. He swept his sticky, sweaty tresses from his face then ordered a drink from the nearby barman. His T-shirt stuck to his back, his jeans slid down from his hips, revealing his boxers' waistband, but he was having too much of a blast to care about that.
Samuel Morgan was partying free from care with his friends, reveling in his holiday. The men's clothing shop, which he owned, went under a renovation, so he got two months of paid vacation that was given to him by the manager of the American business without any trouble: the young man has given his heart and soul into his work. Today was Sam's last day before the renovation, so he started celebrating. He had been enjoying the music on the dance floor blithely for hours now. His friends were shocked to see his dance moves that were catching someone else's attention, too.
As his drink arrived, Sam felt that gaze again, which followed him on the dance floor, too. He didn't see anyone in that direction, though, just the crowd of partiers, but he couldn't stop a shiver that ran icily down his spine. Finally he turned back to the bar and slowly sipped his cool drink.
Suddenly a man stood beside him, as a new hit came from the DJ. The man wore a T-shirt and dark, tight jeans, too, as he ordered a shot of Jack Daniel's. Sam couldn't help but check out the guy. He started 'playing for the other team' not too long ago, but he hadn't met with a man, who was this… hot! And he was sure the guy knew that about himself, too.
At that moment he noticed that emerald eyes have been gazing at him for a long time, causing him to blush and avert his hazel irises. As he looked back out of the corner of his eyes, he caught the guy's cocky grin, still staring at him. Sam all of a sudden made up his mind and turned back to the man and attentively checked out the revealed sight.
Short, sandy-blond hair framed the oval-shaped face, but in front of the gelled spikes the bangs caressed the forehead. The emerald eyes were tailored into almond-shape by the genetics, just as Sam's, but the man's were more rounded. High cheekbones gave the curve of the oval shape, while Sam's face – who noticing this started pouting inside – became rounder, giving him boyish features. What made his throat dry though, were the full, pink lips under the straight nose. Sam would most likely attack the man, because those lips were made just to kiss and bite them so hard, they would become fuller. Sam – though, a little ashamed – admitted to himself, that he would gladly volunteer for that task.
All of a sudden the most shocking thing happened: as the new song reached the chorus, the first line being a little rudely: "Tonight I'm fucking you!" the man's emerald gaze flickered in amber, accompanied by a terrifying glint of a predator that finally found its prey.
Sam broke out in sweat seeing this. Surely he was just imagining that! He was imagining it, wasn't he? That couldn't have happened, just his imagination!… Right? He involuntarily swallowed and the man's gaze followed the bobbing of his Adam's apple. Sam downed the remains of his drink then stood up to leave the guy behind without a look. However, he made the worst decision of his life: at his other side the escape route was blocked by a couple, so he stepped out onto the dance floor next to the guy.
He noticed fearfully that during the movement the guy shifted closer to him then with a deep breath he took in Sam's scent: he heard the rush of air into the straight nose cutting out the loud beat of the music.
The whole thing was only a moment; not stopping he stepped away from the man, continuing his move. He tried to walk away normally, though his heart beating staccatos urged him to escape, just run. He searched for his friends then getting his jacket on he said goodbye. Knowing that a crowd of people was between him and the strange guy, he practically ran out of the club into the dark, silent night. He shivered a little from the sudden cold, as he hurried away from the building and pulled his jacket tighter. He nervously smoothed his sweaty chestnut brown locks, their cooled ends tickling his shoulders and the back of his neck.
He quickly turned into an alleyway leading to his home, but didn't reach too far, when he shivered again. He halted terrified: this wasn't a shiver from the cold. He felt it in the club. He didn't turn back, but setting off again he picked up speed. Long, nerve-wrecking minutes ticked by, till he left the dark alleyway. Now his steps were frantic, but he paid attention not to make them look like running. He was holding his gaze on the small house, which he lived in.
After like an eternity he reached the front door. Hurriedly, with shaking hands he fished his keys out of his pocket and tried to open the lock. As he succeeded, he burst in and shutting the door, he locked it then leaned his back on it. As his nervous system caught up with his body, a sob broke out of him. Shakily he slid down to the floor and getting his phone out he dialed.
"Hello?" a deep, sleepy voice spoke up. Sam pulled himself together, but he could only stutter out this:
"Dad…" then he started sobbing so hard, he couldn't utter out a word.
"Sam?" the other side woke up. "Son, what happened?"
Sam tried to answer, but as soon as he opened his mouth, more sobs broke out to the surface. It seemed his father found out that he can't get a response from his son like this.
"Sam, are you at home?" the man asked quickly.
"Ye…" Sam attempted a reply, but he failed the same way. However, it was enough for his father.
"I'll be there soon, kiddo" the man answered. "Just hold on for a little while!"
Sam heard his father put down the phone. All of a sudden the cell slipped out of his hand and he took out his gun from the nearby chest of drawers, a smaller revolver. He checked the bullets: the gun was full. Although his finger stayed away from the trigger, he held it to his chest tightly. Now that he was armed properly, it occurred to him, that with a 6'5" frame, blessed with muscles, how much he was terrified. Strangely, he wasn't ashamed by his behavior. The whole night turned into a horribly creepy event. Leaning back on the door he shakily waited for his father to finally arrive.
Sam was rocking himself to calm down, his gun held to his chest tightly. He didn't know how long ago he called his father in despair. Now he was just silently crying, but his fear hadn't decreased.
Suddenly he froze: he heard something from outside. As he listened, he heard it again: a strange sound, sort of… like a dog panting forcefully. And that sound was directly at the door! Sam forgot to breathe in his fright; he prayed with his eyes tightly shut to a higher power to make this animal go away – he was sure that it wasn't a dog: that rattling, slightly snarling panting was more fitting to a predator that ventured straight from the dark forest behind the house.
In that moment the sound was chased away by a deeper growl: the engine of a car. Sam took a breath then sighed in relief when the car stopped near the house; maybe that animal ran back to the forest for good. He was shaken from his thoughts by a loud knock, causing him to whimper and clutch the revolver tighter. The knock rapped again on the door then the visitor called inside:
The boy immediately jumped up at the voice, but for caution he just cracked the door open and peeked out. Recognizing his father he stumbled back from relief.
Sam's shorter father stepped in right away and closed the door then getting closer to his son he took away the gun with slow movements and put it away.
Seeing his son's condition, Robert Morgan discovered instantly the reasons behind his new grey hairs. He carefully lead Sam into the living room and sat him down on the couch, taking a seat next to him he grasped the boy's shoulder.
Sam hid into his father's side and started sobbing again. Bobby took in the shaking body and the arms holding onto him like vines; he knew the boy got a huge scare. Soon he asked his son to tell him about the happenings, who obeyed with stuttering breaths.
"And you think he followed you home?" Bobby asked quietly, caressing the brown locks soothingly. Sam gave a minute nod.
"I'm so scared…" the boy whispered but his father just tightened his arms around him.
"Tonight I'll stay here with you, okay?" Bobby stroked Sam's back, who whispered relieved:
"Thank you, Daddy, thank you…"
"Go take a nice hot bath!" the man suggested, pushing his son way. "I'm gonna check out the house then settle into the guest room."
Sam hid back into his father's arms fearfully.
"Don't leave me alone, let me sleep with you, please, please…" he whimpered. Bobby was shocked; something horrible could have terrified the usually independent boy, if he's asking his father to let him sleep with him.
"Alright" he agreed quietly then they stood up. Soon Sam fell asleep, after they got in bed, on the nearest possible spot to his father.