Maeve was stunned by how casual the man who gave her a sunny smile was being about this whole situation.
Oddly, something even stranger than the presence of the two men smacked Maeve in the face.
Why in the world was her room so clean?!
Maeve wasn't a very organized person, but she did make sure that her room was at least in a somewhat habitable condition when visitors came around. She never left her delicates sprawled everywhere for all to see, nor did she fail to clean her room at least once a week.
However, in the past month, she had felt less and less of an obligation to clean her room of the remains of takeout she had bought, beer bottles, and cigarette cases. She hadn't even opened the window in three days.
Yet now, as she looked at her room, it was as though someone had hired some kind of sci-fi movie clean-up crew.
The junk Maeve had left on the floor was gone.
Her scant collection of furniture was organized and also… varnished?
Her clothes had either been thrown into the laundry basket or arranged neatly in her wardrobe.
Her bed was spread immaculately and the air in the whole apartment was pristine.
"What the fuck..." Maeve said, stunned. Her eyes suddenly bulged and without warning, she dived towards a small dresser beside her bed, directly opposite the door. She opened the second from the last drawer and…
"What's wrong with you?!" she cried and glared at the two men.
The two men reeled. One of them gave a mirthless laugh and said to the other:
"Great. I told you this would look weird no matter how you spun it, Aaron. Now we look like some crazy douchebags who go around breaking into people's homes and cleaning them."
The man who spoke had a larger build than his partner. He wore a long-sleeved navy-blue shirt that accentuated the swollen contours of his muscles; they looked as though they would spill from the fabric. He had long, dark brown that teased his shoulders, and his long, gaunt face housed sharp brown eyes and a rather charming stubble.
Maeve heard what this man had just said and was taken aback.
The panic she felt moments ago seemed to progressively wither the more she considered this odd situation.
"What are you doing here? Who are you? Start talking!" Maeve shouted and inched a few steps back towards the door.
The man with the bright smile seemed to take a deep breath and look deep into her eyes.
"First, please calm down. We would have visited you under better circumstances and frankly, in a better fashion than this, but we're on a bit of a time crunch, you see. May we speak to you?" he said calmly.
This man had light ash blonde hair and satin grey eyes that had a strange, mysterious gleam under the artificial light overhead. His square-shaped face made him look a lot older than he actually was, and his lean build made him appear frail, especially when compared to his partner's.
Maeve remained vigilant.
All she could see was two perverts who had broken into her apartment and cleaned it up, getting rid of her cigarettes in the process – a truly formidable crime.
"Calm down?" she said, slowly nodding her head as though agreeing to cooperate. Then she rushed towards the door.
Maeve wasn't going to stand for this.
She pulled out her phone right when she stepped into the hallway, and was about to make a call when a large hand grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back. In the time it took Maeve to blink twice, she found herself standing between her bed and the man in the polo shirt. He was blocking the door.
…
Maeve was shaken.
What had just happened? How was she back inside the apartment?
She could have sworn she had already flung herself out the door just now, so how…?
She felt a slight pang of pain around her wrist and massaged it tenderly while glaring at the tall, broad boulder of a man. He was staring her down menacingly.
Maeve felt fury rising from the pit of her stomach along with vicious strength, but a moment later, both were doused. She melted and beads of sweat appeared on her temples.
'His.... his eyes!' Maeve thought, cold fear running along her spine.
The broad man's eyes, which she could have sworn were a shade of brown moments ago, were now gleaming with a bright golden hue as he stared her down!
Maeve was frozen stiff. She felt strength leave her body little by little, and then she plopped on the bed.
She wouldn't have hesitated to throw her fists at anyone who treated her like this – looking down at her and manhandling her – but this felt different.
The man before her felt different.
Who was he?
The man in front of Maeve raised a brow in amusement.
"That's enough, Ryan. Don't overdo it," said the shorter, smaller man behind Maeve.
Maeve turned to him with a cautious, fearful gaze.
"What do you people want?" she asked. "What are you?"
"Please, don't be too anxious, Maeve. Like I said before, we just want to talk."
"Excuse you, how can I not be anxious? This fucker just harassed me and his eyes just turned gold!" Maeve cried while pointing a finger accusingly at Ryan, as he was called.
The man with the square face seemed to fail to find the words to say. He wore a funny smile.
"I'm sorry. We don't really have time to be too civil. Frankly, our kind don't mind roughhousing, so please forgive us for anything you might find inappropriate," he said and suddenly looked at the clean floor guiltily.
Maeve did the same and her accusing gaze only got sharper on him.
"What are you talking about?" she said. She would have asked what the man meant by 'our kind', but she was afraid to find out the meaning Her greatest fear right now was that she had come into contact with some freaky stalker occult weirdos. It wouldn't be the first time, actually.
"My name is Aaron," the square-faced man said, "and that's Ryan." He gestured towards the man by the door. "There's no easy way for me to say this, but you are one of us. We're here to make you understand what you are."
Aaron's stern expression, and the cold, mysterious shine of his grey eyes made Maeve even more nervous.
"What do you mean, what I am?" she asked. Her brows were furrowed and her heart raced.
Aaron wore a kind smile.
"I'm sure your life has been fairly simple till now. Hard, but simple. The thing is though, you were never a simple person. Only now did your body start to manifest that truth, accepting the grace of the moon. You're a little late – and I was starting to get worried – but, you're no less a werewolf than any of us," he said.
A crippling silence took over. Aaron knew this was to be expected. He saw Maeve's face twist and contort into several variations of 'what the actual fuck', and sure enough...
"...what...?" she asked, and blinked furiously.
A what?
Aaron didn't repeat himself. He merely gave her a nod.
"A werewolf?" Maeve said.
"I imagine it sounds stupid from your point of view..." Aaron said.
His eyes slowly changed from their usual satin grey hue to a bright gold.
Maeve backed away.
'This again?' she thought and swallowed hard.
It didn't seem to be some trick. She didn't know any contact lenses that could do that.
Even discounting this, Maeve thought back to when Ryan had, with means she could only describe as mysterious, snatched her back into the apartment. Was this real?
Her breathing quickened. All of a sudden, everything that had been happening to her since last month was contrasted and compared against what she had just witnessed and heard.
But no! It couldn't be!
"The hell?" she mumbled to herself.
"It's weird, I know," Aaron said patiently. "But, you're like me, Ryan, and several packs that call Glendale their home."
Maeve reeled. Packs? As in packs of wolves?
She was lost for words. She was teetering on the brink of belief and disbelief. A part of her, desperate to know what had been happening to her since last month, was ready to believe, but common sense rejected vehemently.
No way.
Aaron saw her struggle. It pained him. He tried to draw close to Maeve but stopped himself. He'd only scare her.
But there was little time to be considerate and ease her into all of this. Thus, he played his trump card.
"You never really knew about your parents, did you? Your real parents," he said.
---
[Author's Note]
Thank you very much for reading. Now, read more.