And We Walk After - Trevor Kowalski Youtube

Vicrul’s house was not what you exactly expected when you saw him for the first time. It was a surprise for you when you realized that just a few houses away lived your beloved math teacher, Mr. Hux. Now it all made sense when you recalled about his other five brothers.

You stopped at a large house with a dirty grey color where people lived who were vampires, super-rich, or just into the old construction of Gothic style. There were probably five floors, to which every floor had two rectangular dark windows.

At the front, there was a spiral staircase that took you immediately to the first floor. Comparing his house to the other ones in the neighborhood was like comparing the daylight with the night.

“Nervous?” Vicrul asked, plastering a smile on his face.

“I don’t know, should I be? I’m really not planning on becoming a vampire,” you ironically commented with a grin as soon as you stepped into the hallway.

Black paint coated the walls and at the top dangled a giant candle lamp with spider webs. A staircase on the left in the shape of a snake brought you upstairs and a large red knitted carpet on the hallway floor guided you to the kitchen, to which at the top hung the horns of a deer. The right side led you to the dining room.

You weren’t sure how to feel about the decoration in the room, but it was indeed unusual. It was still better than seeing a loaded rifle or the head of a beer hanging there.

While Vicrul took off his shoes, he mentioned, “Don’t worry, the horns aren’t real.”

He picked up his motor helmet with his backpack and walked into the kitchen.

“Where are your brothers?”

Living in such a big house with six boys all at once was definitely not a quiet place. You imagined how the loud music blasted every evening that even the house jumped. Every night was probably like a party to them. The neighbors were afraid of them or stood every evening ringing at the door until the police would arrive.

“I dunno. I always see them late at night,” you heard Vicrul shout from the kitchen.

He came up to the doorway with one arm propped up against the door frame, in the other holding a bottle of beer, observing you sinking into the style of the house.

“You know, I always thought our school seemed intimidating, but your house is on another level,” you commented, eyes staring at the ceiling.

“I hope in a good way,” he smirked. “Make yourself comfortable. It will serve the dish any minute.”

You entered the dining room and plopped yourself on the chair on the corner of the table, where the sun shined through the window. To get to the living room, you would have to go through the dining room, where there was no door in between. A dark aquarium that stood next to a bookshelf came to your notice, in which you watched small, colorful fishes swimming from one side to another. No pictures were hanging on the walls.

And as if by magic, the chef cook Vicrul came with two plates full of chili con carne.

“There you go,” he grinned, placing your plate next to the cutlery. He took the water bottle and poured it into your glass.

This probably could be the sexiest thing a man could ever do. Serving the food he cooked. And the way it smelled.

There was probably a reason your stomach wasn’t that hungry, as if the body itself knew it would expect something better in the afternoon.

“That’s my oldest brother’s seat,” he noted with a slight smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to sit somewhere else?”

“No, no!” he insisted for you to stay. “I’m not used to bringing people to home and seeing someone else sitting in Ushar’s place.”

“Oh yeah, I remember. You told me about the names in your family would sound weirder than yours,” you beamed, picking up the glass.

The water touched your lips; the refreshment hit your mouth, and you only focused your eyes and mind on Vicrul, who copied you, adding an eye wink to it.

You hid your smirk while putting your glass on the table and shoved the first bite in your mouth. The corn with the beans and the red tomato sauce that awakened the spiciness in the mouth were delicious.

“That might be one of the best meals I’ve eaten so far!”

“May I?” he demanded, moving with his chair closer to you.

With his thumb, he wiped the red sauce off your chin that you hadn’t noticed and licked it off his finger, with his eyes fixed on you, so you wouldn’t miss the show.

You broke the eye contact in embarrassment and quickly took the napkin to run over the spot again. Your mouth tightened.

“Thanks.”

“You want dessert?” he offered while cleaning up the plates.

“No, thank you. I’m stuffed.”

Vicrul disappeared into the kitchen, starting the washing up.

“Do you need my help?” you shouted from the other room.

“No, thanks! An injured hand will definitely not help me out.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the room at the same time as Vicrul did. The tensions between you twinkled, and your eyes met each other like magnets.

He nodded with his head towards the stairs. “Come with me. I’ll show you my room.”

And just like a blind dog, you followed him, not thinking about the time, your phone, any notifications, nothing at all.

“Since I’m the youngest, I live on the highest floor, so it may take us a while to get to the top,” he said with a grin between his teeth.

“No problem, I’m used to the stairs from school,” you sighed heavily. Maybe it really wouldn’t be a bad idea to work out more with Finn again to avoid running out of breath.

Climbing stairs to heaven was for Vicrul a habit. The way he smiled at you as you tried to act tough in front of him only brought him more joy, while you just imagined how scary it would be to walk through his house at night.

You stopped for a second on the fourth floor and looked down out of pure curiosity. In the instant moment, a familiar tightness twisted in your chest, and a feeling of dizziness overtook your mind. You forcefully gripped the stair railing out of fear you would fall.

“You’re okay down there? It’s one more floor to go,” Vicrul reminded you from upstairs.

Your breath became steadfast again. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and climbed the last staircase.

You stood in front of two white doors on the last floor, one of which was closed, where you assumed the bathroom was. When you entered Vicrul’s room, it almost struck you.

“I thought your room was—”

“Messy?” he ended your sentence with a brief chuckle.

You pressed your lips in a shameful line and turned your head over to observe the room. Of course, it was blue, but nothing like his eyes. It reminded you of the Pepsi can, only much darker. His posters of various artists with different instruments hung framed on the wall. It looked like a normal boy’s room, only much cleaner and much more classical.

“You’re a cellist?” you asked him in wonder, pointing at the large cello next to the mirror across from his bed, on which he sat on the side.

Vicrul only nodded in response. Next to the cello was his desk with a small framed black-and-white picture on it.

You took it in your hand and looked at it more closely. Six handsome grown men were standing outside by a tree. Two of them looked proudly into the camera, puffing up their chest with a bride grin, while the other three were just staring at it with a frozen look. Vicrul, on the other hand, only formed a small smile, standing at the front of the middle because next to being the youngest, he was also one of the smallest.

“It’s quite hard to believe that you’re related with your brothers. You all look so different,” you remarked.

Vicrul stood up from his bed, approaching you so close you could smell his cologne. He narrowed his glare above your shoulder, looking at the picture, and lifted his chin.

“We’re not brothers by blood, but… we care for each other the way all people should.”

And although his words should have been sinking in your brain much faster, it was nothing but slow. The only ones to blame for this were his eyes that were so magical, so magnificent, so…

“Now that I’m thinking about it, I might actually want some dessert,” you said in a seductive tone. You wrapped your arm around Vicrul’s neck and placed your injured hand on his chest.

He approved your intended message with a smirk, claiming gently your mouth all over again. His hunger for you started increasing, making you all excited in your belly. You could tell he was a good kisser, whose lips tasted like spearmint.

Vicrul was trying to find a rhythm that could satisfy both of you, and to his luck, he did. Your eagerness for him was itching all over your body. He stopped for a second, breathing laboriously, and, with his bare fingers, he pulled you in by the waistband of your skirt and led you towards his bed.

He fell on the smooth mattress and immediately prompted himself up so that you were squatting on his lap, consuming each of his kisses that were getting electrified. He tossed down your blazer, pulled your blouse out of your skirt, and started undoing the first buttons while setting lazy kisses down to your cleavage.

You cupped his cheeks, and you knew that one wrong trace with your finger, and you could cut yourself on his cheekbones. But the bleeding wouldn’t stop you. You clashed your mouth against his puffy lips, stroking with your hand through his beautiful dark brown hair that smelled like fresh shampoo.

“He was engaged in a secret bet about who could have sex with the most girls for real money…”

“Drop them afterward like a banana peel!”

“Keep your hands away from him!”

“How can you defend a guy whose only goal is to fuck us for money?”

“Stop!” you screamed, full of rage, placing your palms on your ears. You moved away from Vicrul as fast as possible, almost crashing into the cello.

You weren’t sure to whom you referred to it, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. Not only that, but you never wished for the voice to come between you, but it did at the moment you least expected it.

“What is it? What’s going on with you?”

Vicrul’s confused and worried tone said it all. You believed that maybe the startled silence that followed by you putting on your blazer and button up your blouse would be understandable enough to him than any reply. But you were wrong. In the end, it didn’t look like silence was for him an answer.

“Has it something to do with me?”

There was no way you dared to look him in the eyes, which could prevent you from staying here.

“Talk to me!” he yelled, his voice sounding louder and more strident.

This brought you to stop what you were doing and to look up at him. No matter how hard you tried, your brain couldn’t produce any words. And although you had told yourself several times that men who shouted at you, when being furious, wouldn’t scare you, you kept believing this lie repeatedly.

“I — I can’t do this. I’m sorry…” you replied faintly.

“Then get lost!” he stormed and violently stretched his arm towards the door.

His voice tore painfully out of him. Part of his hair hung in his eye, and the magic… gone. Extinguished. Forever.

You had no other wish than to run out of the room down the thin staircase that felt like it had no end. The stairs almost made you go lightheaded. The moment you had the end in sight, you opened the entrance door, only to step into the darkness.

With a furrowed forehead, you glimpsed at your phone.

How on earth was it already 07:30pm?

The thing that probably shocked you the most was that neither your mother nor Qi’ra called you or left you a message. What a joke.

It would take a while for the bus to pass by, so you walked the entire way to your house. It’s not like it was a long road, either. You didn’t need any music. It was loud enough where all your thoughts, all your questions, and all your pictures were all scrambled together.

The image of you kissing Vicrul so full of fireworks and him, later, yelling at you, was now a new collection to your brain. And you hated it. You hated how you felt. Like you couldn’t even walk correctly. Tired from something that you couldn’t explain.

Nothing made sense. You liked how Vicrul touched you. How he was craving for your mouth. For your neckline. How the smell of spearmint sparkled on your lips. His angelic smirk. Damn, even his self-made chili con carne. And yet, you felt like you never wanted to see the fallen angel again.