Fahrradsattel

"Fahrradsattel" - Pisse

🎵 Du willst eine Jahreskarte / Du willst einen Ring am Finger / Eine Gummihand in deiner / Festgekettet und für immer / Aber ich will dein Fahrradsattel sein🎵

Holy crap, I cannot even attempt to recall the last time I'd had such a wonderful sleep!

I don't have insomnia or anything, but I've always had a rough time falling and staying asleep. I'd chalked it up to the bed being too cold or just being trapped in the eery dark where anything could be lurking. However, sleeping in Dominik's bed was frickin' heaven!

The sheets were warm and soft to the touch with their flannel material; and I was curled up in them just right so that whenever I tried to twist, they would tighten around me. It wasn't in a constricting or uncomfortable manner. Instead, it was like receiving a warm hug from the Snuggle bear. The pillow was probably my favorite. I'm a front sleeper, so I like to shove my face into the pillow and nuzzle into it every so often. Dominik's cuddly pillow seemed to be made just for that; and although there's something soothing about a cool pillow, it was nice to also rest atop a warm one too. In fact, it was really warm like it was a heated blanket-pillow combo. Perfect.

Plus, and I don't know why, but that annoying hole in the center of my chest seemed to not ache as badly in the bed.

Yet, when I stirred awake, the bed felt disgustingly cold and I couldn't help but shiver underneath the thin blanket. What the hell?

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and thanks to the black sheet covering the window, I couldn't see a thing inside Dominik's bedroom. The clattering of dishes coupled with the bitter stench of coffee brewing downstairs let me know that it was most likely morning.

I stretched my limbs and tossed the blanket off of me, swinging my legs over the side of the bed to hop down onto the floor. I took one step forward—

My shins banged against the cold metal of the cot's frame, making me lose my balance. I tumbled over and slammed against something hard and warm.

"Umph!" Dominik grunted loudly as my puny body landed directly on top of his.

I don't think Dominik was using the blanket I'd seen him grab last night, because my fingers immediately landed on top of his bare chest. My trembling digits could feel the firm, large pectorals he possessed— they were pretty big and dare I say, the chest hair covering them made them feel soft too (like a pillow).

As soon as the realization that I'd just accidentally groped my stepbrother dawned on me, my body heated up to sun-like levels and I felt as if I'd spontaneously combust. Even though it was really dark in the bedroom, I could tell that Dominik's body did the same because I could feel the heat rising from his body as I was lying on top of it.

"I— uh...!" I stuttered as my brain struggled to think up an excuse or even profusely apologize for inadvertently creeping on this scary dude. The fact that we were in the darkness made everything hyperbolically worse because I couldn't see the look on his face. Although I'm not a gambling man, I would bet all of my Canadian money (I forgot to exchange it into euro before I left) that Dominik was probably staring daggers into my pale face and imagining a billion different ways he could tear me in half!

However, the giant did something unexpected.

I flinched as I felt Dominik wrap both of his strong arms around me, almost as if he were pulling me in closer to his muscled body. He must still be half-asleep, I can only hope. However, even in my adrenaline-fueled haze, I couldn't help but mentally note that Dominik was rather soft, sort of like a memory foam mattress...

Dominik let out a loud yawn, his broad chest vibrating from the action. "Guten Morgen, mein Hase," Dominik sleepily muttered, tightening his grip on me.

"'Good morning'? What?" I blurted, unable to wrap my head around the fact that the guy didn't want to murder me for falling on top of him.

I could feel Dominik's large muscles tense up under me, and he let out a cough. "Oh, uh, I mean, 'What are you doing?'" he asked, but he didn't sound as mad as I thought he would. He stood up, managing to keep me secured in his kung-fu grip; and thanks to our exaggerated height difference, once Dominik was on his feet, mine dangled far above the floor.

The light flipped on, and I looked up at Dominik's equally red face. Despite keeping me secured to him, his face was cherry red and he tried to look anywhere in room besides my curious face, his yellow eyes darting left and right rapidly. His messy hair was all over the place, and his morning stubble looked thicker, making his strong jaw look all the more masculine.

"Um, you can let me go now," I mumbled, squirming uncomfortably in his embrace.

Dominik's embarrassed face quickly morphed, a scowl forming on his lips. "Oh, right," he huffed, setting me down onto my feet. Again, our height difference was greatly illustrated when I realized that the top of my head didn't even make it to the base of his hairy pectorals that I'd accidentally (emphasis on ACCIDENTALLY!) grabbed.

I didn't want there to be any more awkward interaction, so I quickly scurried past my stepbrother and exited the bedroom. "I'mgonnatakeashower!" I blurted as quickly as I could, stomping my feet all the way to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. Once I was all alone, I ran my shaky hands through my hair, gagging at the recent memory of groping the young man. He probably thinks I'm a perv for grabbing his tiddies. Damn it! I can never show my face around this house ever again!

Sure enough, my own face matched Dominik's in terms of redness once I looked in the mirror. I tried my best to shake the weirdo out of my head, turning on the shower and setting the water to such a hot degree that steam quickly billowed throughout the small bathroom. I hoped that by drenching myself in boiling water that I could wash all of the older man's germs off of my okay body! It made sense in my frazzled mind.

I stripped out of the oversized t-shirt that I'd been dressed in after I apparently hadn't been attacked by a wolf... hmmm. I dropped my boxer briefs to the floor next, pausing to take a look in the mirror that was getting quickly covered in opaque steam. Even with the tiny water droplets on the glass, I could still see the crescent-shaped scar that marred my left shoulder. Frowning, I examined it a little closer, even giving it a few tentative pokes. It didn't hurt at all, acting like it truly had been there for years as opposed to a few hours. Yet, I knew for a fact that I hadn't had this scar before flying in to Germany. Something was up, and Alaric was evidently trying to keep it from me.

So much was going on in such a short amount of time, that my teenage brain took the easy way out and decided to not think about it. Was it the correct answer? Probably not. But worrying causes wrinkles.

Hence, I clenched my jaw tightly and ground my teeth as I stepped underneath the spraying the faucet, trying to will my mind to focus on anything except the wolf outside or the young man inside. Given that I hadn't had a chance to go to the Wasgau, which is like the German version of Walmart, I just used whatever shampoo and body wash that was in the tub. It was some generic brand that smelled like pine and suspiciously like Dominik. Ugh, great. Now I'll walk around Bedburg reeking of the country's most angsty young man.

There goes any shot I had at making friends here.

Swallowing down my irritation, I finished up my shower and immediately frowned when I opened up the glass door. My eyes honed in one the empty towel rack and I groaned loudly. I couldn't just up and walk butt naked though the house! I have too much pride, and I have a really low self-esteem!

Carefully, I got out of the tub and cracked open the bathroom door the smallest bit. "Hey, Dad!" I called out. "Can you grab me a towel, please?"

There was silence, followed by the creaking of the hardwood floor upstairs.

"He already went to work," Dominik answered, his deep voice bellowing out from right behind the door where I hid my naked body.

I blushed, my entire body taking on a pinkish color. "Oh," I frowned. "Well, then can you please grab me a towel? I forgot one."

The other man was quiet for a moment before his heavy footsteps thudded down the hallway towards his bedroom. They quickly returned and Dominik shoved his large hand inside the small entrance I'd created with the bathroom door. He held a blue towel in his grip.

"Here," he grunted.

I snatched the offered towel out of his grip and slammed the door closed so that I could dry myself off. "Thanks!" I muttered, rubbing the soft material all over my body so that I could get dried off. I even took a little longer drying my long hair that now reached to the middle of my thin shoulder blades whenever I let it down. Once I was finished, I wrapped the towel around my waist and tiptoed out of the bathroom and back into Dominik's bedroom.

He wasn't there, so I was safe to rummage through my suitcase that was in there to grab a new change of clothes. Since it was cold outside, I decided to wear some jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I opted for my red Calvin Klein long-sleeve that was made out of a thicker material, so that I could stay both warm and fashionable.

Once I was all dressed, I snatched my toiletries bag and made my way back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do my skin care routine. I hung the towel Dominik had gotten me on the rack, and every so often, I wiped my face or my hands on it as I went through my regular routine.

Dominik stomped by, clad in some jeans and a simple white t-shirt that looked like it was painted on as it clung tightly around his bulk. His yellow eyes zeroed in on the towel and he smirked a little bit. "You father told me to take you to the Wasgau to get you a SIM card, so let me know when you're finished getting ready," he said in his deep voice. "Oh, and sorry that I couldn't find you a clean towel. I hope you didn't mind using mine."

The blood drained from my face and instantly I felt like I needed to take another hot shower. "What?" I breathed, frozen in place over what I'd just heard.

I used Dominik's towel? And based off his words, it wasn't just a towel that he had dibs on, but it was most likely a towel that he'd just used earlier. No! For all I know, I could've dried my face off on the part he rubbed his nuts all over!

Dominik ignored me and pretended like he hadn't just committed such an egregious atrocity! He lumbered past me, stomping his feet on the stairs as he descended them. "Paul asked me to take you to the Wasgau," he stated blankly, his broad back to me. "Are you coming or not?"

This guy's avoiding the question! I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation, wanting nothing more than to bitch him out for being nasty. But at the end of the day, I needed a ride to the Wasgau in order to get my German SIM card. Yes, German towns are very walkable, but I could hear the tapping of the raindrops against the windows as I stood in the hallway.

"...yeah," I frowned, cringing as I followed behind the douchebag. He may be a pain the ass, but I'm not in the position to deny a free ride.

Dominik opened up the front door and looked down at me, cocking his eyebrow. "That's all you're wearing?" he asked, holding the door open for me.

I looked down at my fashionable outfit and then back up at the evidently judgmental man. "What's wrong with it?" I scoffed. "I look good." Seriously, these were designer jeans that I worked my butt off to buy, and they were paired with one of my favorite Calvin Klein shirts! Any man who sees me out in Bedburg might mistake me for one of those hot, sexy European men that are all over social media!

Who knows? Maybe my first date/kiss/boyfriend/lover/fuck/hand-holding experience/make-out session could be with some dude I meet out here in Germany. That'd be awesome.

Dominik huffed as he looked down at my outfit, that oddly familiar pinkish hue forming on his cheeks. "Um, yeah your outfit is... nice," he coughed, looking away from me for a second. "But it's freezing outside. You'll catch a cold."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I scoffed as I stepped outside and immediately wrapped my arms around myself as the blistering wind tore through town. It was painfully cold outside! The rain felt like it was borderline hail because of how stinging cold it was as it pelted against my flawless face. In a snap, I began to shiver and I could feel my teeth chattering.

Dominik made a noise that resembled a rumble as he stormed back inside the house, only to quickly return with a large hoodie in his hands. Without another word, he walked right up to me and quite literally shoved it over my head. The dude yanked the fabric down further until I was wearing his oversized (at least it was oversized on me) black hoodie that completely clashed with my outfit and ruined my hair. But it was warm — really warm.

"Um, thanks?" I muttered as I shoved my arms through the sleeves, having a flashback of when I'd worn Dominik's hoodie back in Nordwestmecklenburg because of how the sleeves were still way too long for my arms.

Dominik slammed the front door and locked it before turning back around to face me. Once his yellow eyes landed on my smaller form, they nearly popped out of his skull. His usually stern face went beet red and he hurriedly pushed by me, scurrying over towards Alaric's van.

Confused, I looked down at my ruined outfit. It wasn't that bad, was it?

I shrugged and made my way over towards the van so that we could get this stupid trip done and over with. It was Sunday, which meant that I'd be starting a brand new school tomorrow; and there was absolutely no way I wanted to do that without a phone! What if I get lost on my way there?!

The blushing young man opened up the passenger side door for me, standing aside and motioning with one stiff swing of his buff arm for me to get in. Still, he refused to look me in the eye because... reasons, I suppose.

"Thanks..." I mumbled as I hopped inside and fastened my seatbelt.

He just gave a wordless grunt, the blush on his stubble-covered face deepening even more. He closed my door for me and virtually sprinted around the van to rapidly get in on the driver's side. As soon as the van roared to life, Dominik turned some of the dials to blast the heat.

The second Dominik pulled out of the driveway and began to drive down the road that cut through the forest to meet with the rest of town, I couldn't help but pick up on the tension in the van.

Both of us were dead silent within the confines of the van, neither of us saying a single thing to one another. I knew that he was probably a little miffed that I'd blocked his number and wouldn't talk to him at all when I'd been back in Canada. But why? It didn't seem to make any sense to me whatsoever. I mean, I thought that the guy didn't like me at all, therefore, why would he feel mad about me not keeping in contact? What was I to him?

Even now, whenever I glanced at him from my peripherals, his yellow eyes stayed glued to the wet road. The tapping of the rain atop the metal roof of the vehicle paired with the hum of the engine was all that filled the space between us. Dominik's left hand was on the steering wheel, his knuckles bleach white as he tightened his grip on the wheel, making the plastic groan out. His right hand was on the gear stick that was in the middle of us since Alaric's van is a manual. Every so often, Dominik would fiddle with the gear, his large bicep flexing with power as he moved his arm the tiniest bit, causing the big muscle to squeeze entirely out of his short sleeve, causing the white fabric to bunch up a little underneath his armpit. How was he not cold in this freezing rain?

I felt like maybe I should offer an empty apology. After all, I really don't feel like I'd done anything wrong. However, if it would ease the tension between us, then maybe it'd be worth just saying "Sorry". Or, I could avoid the problem altogether.

Choosing the second option, I leaned forward and turned on the radio. At first, some hard rock song in German started to play. I turned the knob, shifting through the stations until I settled on one of the pop stations that was playing "Wannabe" by Spice Girls.

As soon as the pop song started to play, Dominik cocked his eyebrow at me, but shrugged his broad shoulders.

We pulled up to a red light, and I lazily sang along to the pop song, staring out at the grey German morning. "If you wanna be my lover / you gotta get with my friends— what?" I asked, my face getting a little warm when I noticed that Dominik was staring at me.

He flinched in his seat and cleared his throat. "N-nothing," he stammered, averting his gaze for a second. "Um, y'know, Paul wanted me to teach you how to drive."

Oh yeah. Obviously I want a car— I don't know a single teenager on earth who wouldn't. That being said, Europe is significantly more walkable than Canada; that, and looking at the way Dominik rhythmically moved the gear stick as if it were instinctual was completely foreign to me. The road was covered in rain water, and I feared that the exact moment I'd get behind the wheel, it would rain and my tires would lose all traction and I'd be sent careening into some tree and die. Or I'll get a really expensive ticket!

I just silently nodded, and I'm positive that my apprehension was written all over my face.

Dominik frowned, but then he straightened his posture. "Here," he grunted, snatching my hand in his. His larger fingers intertwined with my smaller ones; and before I could ask him what was up, he then used our shared grip to rest onto the gear stick. My palm rested on the faux leather knob while Dominik's much larger baseball glove-sized hand covered mine.

The light turned green and Dominik used our shared grip to maneuver the stick to and fro, allowing the large vehicle to roar forward down the road. I have no clue how to drive stick (or automatic), but Dominik managed to move the gear between us with expert precision, as if it were natural to him. His hand was really warm and I could feel the thick callouses on his palms that were kind of rough like rocks. The taller man must've known that his hands would feel rough and tough because, although his grip was firm enough to trap my hand underneath his, it was still gentle. I swear that at the stop sign his thumb rubbed circles on mine, but it was so quick that I doubted it'd happened.

Out of my side view, I could vaguely make out the corners of Dominik's mouth starting to twitch upwards. His big canine-like teeth protruded out over his bottom lip the more we drove on, and he flexed his fingers as if to give my hand a playful squeeze.

When we arrived at the Wasgau parking lot and he pulled into a vacant space, I yanked my hand out of his grip.

Immediately, Dominik's trademark scowl returned to his gruff face. There was an odd rumbling that emanated from his direction, but he turned the van off and got out. Before slamming the door shut, he reached over into the back and snatched something that was hanging on his headrest. He shrugged on the black leather jacket that he opted to leave unzipped.

I got out of the van, automatically shivering again from how cold and rainy it was. Damn it. I knew that Germany was far from being world-renowned for its sunshine weather, but did I have to arrive during the coldest/wettest time of the year?

Since all I needed was a SIM card, I didn't bother grabbing a shopping cart. That, and I didn't have a euro coin to unlock it. Therefore, I scurried as quickly as my legs would allow towards the entrance. The sliding glass doors slid open, and a welcome gush of warm air greeted me the second I stepped foot inside.

Dominik easily kept up with me, not even having to break out into a run as he simply stretched out his long legs. He kept his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, snorting when he saw how quickly I'd hurried inside the warm building.

"I said you'd be cold," he muttered, narrowing his yellow at me. There was that weird growly quality to his deep voice again.

I frowned back. Not wanting to be wrong, I shook my head. "I don't remember that," I huffed, as I stomped over towards the ATM that had both the dollar and euro symbol on it so that I could exchange my money real quick.

The front of the Wasgau was like a little entryway that housed a café and multiple vending machines. The ATM was off in the far corner, just off to the right of the entry through the metal gate that led to the grocery section. As I selected "English" on the screen and inserted my card, I was painfully aware of the intense heat radiating off of the angsty dude behind me. My eyes quickly darted towards the tiny mirror that was above the screen, and I nearly gagged at how close Dominik was standing to me as if he'd never ever heard of personal space!

However, because he's strange, the guy stood with his back to me. His large arms were crossed in front of his equally large chest and I could kinda see the way he clenched his square jaw. Some random man walked by us, and I swear up and down that Dominik puffed out his chest and some creepy rumble emanated from him. Weird.

Rolling my eyes, I went to withdraw my money and selected the option that would automatically convert my Canadian dollars into euro for me so that I could try to open up a German bank account whenever I get time later on. As soon as I pressed the button to convert the currency, a little phrase flashed on the screen:

"CA$1.00 = €0.66. Continue?"

A sad, pathetic squeak slipped out of my mouth as the horrible realization of world economics bitchslapped me across the face! With the conversion rate in mind, my savings of CA$2,396 would be... um, €1,580.94!

At my hurt noise, Dominik tensed up and quickly turned around. "What is it?" he urgently asked, leaning so close that I could feel his front pressing against my back. Given that I was frozen in sheer horror over the pure might of the euro, I hadn't moved away from the conversion screen. "Oh, that."

"...yeah," I frowned. Damn it! Now I'll have to go job hunting as soon as I can. I just hope that I can find a job that doesn't require a lot of talking since German is so not my forte. With a shaky hand, I clicked on the next button and the machine whirred to life as it spit out my euro that was nearly half as much as the Canadian money that I'd worked my ass off to earn!

A low sigh echoed out from the guy behind me, and I felt a warm arm snake its way around my waist to pull my frozen form away from the cursed machine that eats money! "C'mon, mein Hase," Dominik said, leading us into the grocery section of the Wasgau. From what I could sort of remember, the customer service counter was inside the grocery section, and that was where people could pay their phone bills. It made sense that they'd sell SIM cards there too.

My annoyed brain was so concentrated on that fact that I'd been robbed by the government that it took me a while to notice that Dominik still had one arm secured around my waist, keeping my smaller body practically pressed side-by-side with his. I tried to take a step away from him, but his hold on me refused to lessen, keeping me trapped. Even some lady passed us by and saw the way we were walking in tandem, and she had the gall to go, "Aww."

There's nothing to Aww about!

We stopped at the customer service counter, and the employee behind it smiled at us. Her eyes darted to the way Dominik's buff arm was locked around me and she smiled at it and made one of those "Aww" looks one would make if they saw a puppy. I took a large step away from my stepbrother, putting at least half a meter in between us.

Dominik's frown deepened and he took a not-so-subtle step closer to me, but he didn't wrap his arm around me at least.

"Hallo," I smiled at the employee, "I need to buy a German SIM card please."

The employee, a woman with salt-and-pepper hair put into a long braid, blushed a little bit. "Sir, ich spreche kein Englisch," she said, shrugging a little bit.

Damn it! Why didn't I take German classes back in Canada? They offered them, but for some reason, I'd opted not to! Damn it all! If I had a time machine, I'd do a lot of things differently, but I'd especially have signed up for German classes instead of ASL, which I don't even think they use in Europe.

My eyes scanned the row of phone parts behind the employee, spotting what said "SIM-Karte" along with a little picture of the German flag on it. I pointed towards it. "SIM card, bitte," I said.

The employee stared blankly back at me.

Dominik cleared his throat and irritatingly returned his arm around my waist. "Mein Freund braucht bitte eine deutsche SIM-Karte," he told the worker in his deep voice, puffing out his chest for some reason. Also, I may not speak German (at all), but it sounded like he referred to me as his friend. That's a little close, in my opinion.

The employee's eyebrows rose and she nodded, turning around to grab one of the SIM cards off the rack. She scanned it and placed it down onto the counter. On the register, in bright green numbers, flashed: €50,25.

Fifty dollars for a SIM card— no wait, it's euro so it's technically way more than that! Why didn't anyone tell me that Europe was expensive as balls?

Frowning, I took a deep breath and fished my wallet out of my pocket so that I could surrender a big chunk of cash for something that I'd barely even use. I rarely call people and usually I'm left on read, so do I really need a German SIM card? Like, really?

As I was having my inner struggle, Dominik slid his own card through the terminal. An electronic chime rang out and the employee handed him a receipt.

I looked up at him, my eyes wide. "Th-thank you," I breathed, but then I mentally berated myself. He didn't buy me a SIM card. I think I was taking too long and he'd grown inpatient. "What's your CashApp and I'll pay you back?"

Dominik snatched the SIM card off the counter and shoved it into his back pocket. "Don't worry about it," he grunted, his arm resuming its previous position around my waist as he prepared to lead me away from the counter. He froze when he saw something, turning back to look at the flier that was on the desk. There was picture of a cruise ship, but all of the information about it was written in German, preventing me from understanding what it was. In red blocky letters at the very top of the flier was: 3-wöchige Mittelmeerkreuzfahrt!

Maybe Dominik wanted to go on a cruise?

Shoot, I'll help him pack his bags. Then I can have the room all to myself!

With one thick finger pointing to the flier, Dominik looked back up at the employee. "Wann beginnt diese Kreuzfahrt?" he asked, putting on a weird tone that made it seem like he was trying his best to be polite. Yet, it came out all strained and just made everyone in the store uneasy.

The woman behind the counter looked up from her phone and at the flier, scanning it with her dark, brown eyes. "Nächste Woche," she replied, pointing to something written in really small text. "Wir haben noch ein paar Tickets übrig. Wenn Sie und Ihr Freund Interesse haben?"

The wheels turned in Dominik's head as he clenched his jaw in silence. His warm arm was tight around me, and I swear that he flexed his muscle a little bit, pulling me in even closer to him. "Ja, bitte," he finally said.

The woman smiled again and typed away at the register. "Wie heißen die Passagiere?" she asked as she continued to fill out whatever form she was completing.

"Stubbe," Dominik smirked, the right corner of his mouth pulling upwards. His grip tightened even more and I could feel a slight rumble in his chest. "Alaric und Paul."

I have no idea what he's doing, but by the sound of it, Dominik might be buying his and my dad a cruise trip? I have no idea why, but whatever. It's his money, not mine. I began to twiddle my fingers lazily on the glass as I looked around the Wasgau and— oh my God!

Off in the distance was a shelf stocked full of German Fanta! Thanks to the food laws in Europe, the soda tasted like someone just carbonated legit orange juice. It knocks the Fanta back home in Canada way out of the park, and I can only have it whenever I'm in Germany. That's one thing no one ever really talks about whenever they move to a different country. In Canada, I missed German Fanta and black licorice. In Germany, I missed Ketchup Chips and Poutine.

The Fanta called out to me, beckoning to put my lips on it and slug it down.

I immediately pushed myself away from the counter so that I could grab a bottle or two, but the exact millisecond I put a centimeter of space between me and my stepbrother, he yanked me back into him.

"Where are you going?" Dominik asked, his voice taking on that growly quality again. His yellow eyes narrowed down at me and that smirk he'd worn had vanished, his upper lip twitching as it curled over his canines.

Ugh, why is he so obsessed with me? "I'm getting a soda," I scoffed, pointing towards the Fanta. "They don't have that kind back home."

Dominik's lip twitched even more. "You know, technically Canada is not your home anymore."

"Pssh, okay! Regardless, I'm grabbing a Fanta." I spun around on my heels and my hair that was in a ponytail even whipped a little to emphasize my point: That I am an independent young man who don't need no man to boss him around! Especially if said man was, *gag, Dominik.

I actually managed to get out of his grip as I started to head down the aisle.

"Don't get lost," Dominik barked after me, his deep voice oozing with authority, making him sound like one of those drill sergeants in military movies. "Stay where I can see you!"

I cringed at his words and just flashed him a thumb's up. Why on earth would he want me to stay where he can see me? And why did he think he could speak to me like that? I mean, sure, he did save me fifty euro by buying my SIM card— but that didn't mean that I owe him anything (besides fifty euro). I just really do not understand him whatsoever.

I tried to wrap my brain around his general weirdness. I mean, it's been seven years since we've spoken/seen one another. And the first time I saw him, he'd actually expressed some anger at me for that... as if it were all my fault, *scoff. But then, he totally drives me to the Wasgau and actually pays for my SIM card when he didn't have to. That's not it though. He seems really keen on maintaining some sort of physical contact with me. I really thought that Dominik didn't like me; after all, he'd said that I was a nobody all those years ago.

I don't understand his motives behind his actions, is what I'm trying to get at. If he truly didn't like me, then why was he trying to help me out and act like he was personal guard dog? Make it make sense!

I grabbed a bottle of the Fanta and was about to make my way back to the customer service counter when I spotted the Haribo aisle. It's no shock that Germany is very proud of Haribo and it's EVERYWHERE in the country. And for good reason too! I have an ultra sweet tooth— anything with sugar and I totally devour that shit!

Immediately, I sprinted towards the candy aisle as if I were nine instead of almost seventeen.

The candy aisle was a rainbow of different treats and flavors, each one of them calling out to me to taste them... and I fully intended to. Without a second thought, I began to snatch whatever Haribo treats weren't readily available in Canada. One of my favorites were the berry ones where the gummy was covered in crunchy red candies, making it look like a raspberry. I made sure to grab two of those before I ventured further down the line to grab other delectable, sugary snacks.

In my peripheral, I caught sight of the freezer section. The door case closest to me was stacked from bottom to top with frozen pizzas. It might sounds weird, but pizza with tuna on it is pretty popular in Germany— don't knock it until you try it! And I missed it!

With a large smile on my face, I scampered over to the freezer aisle to grab a personal tuna fish pizza.

My arms full of uniquely European food, I figured that maybe life wouldn't be one-hundred percent terrible living in Germany. After all, I get to have all of this wonderful food whenever I want. I turned around, but then my stomach fell to the floor when I whipped my head left and right in search of the customer service desk.

The desk and Dominik were nowhere to be seen; and in my food-induced craze, I hadn't paid attention to the path I'd taken, so I couldn't retrace my steps.

I'd gotten lost.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath. I knew that I should more concerned with being lost in an area where I didn't speak the language and where I didn't know my way back to Alaric's house (I'd been too busy singing along to the Spice Girls on the radio). Unfortunately, I was more so preoccupied with the horrifying fact that this meant that Dominik would have one on me.

He'd told me not to get lost and to stay where he could see me. And I'd failed at both in one magnificent swoop. Not that I cared about disobeying him— in fact, I'll probably keep that up on purpose. I just didn't want him to feel like he was right!

And worse: That I was wrong!

I shuddered at the thought and tightened my arms around my food as I began to wander aimlessly throughout the aisles in search of the angsty man. All I had to do was keep my eye out for some scowling man who towered over everyone else and seemed to radiate pure hatred for the world. That shouldn't be too difficult to point out. I didn't want to shout out his name all over the store just in case he was still talking to the employee behind the customer service desk; that way, I can pretend that I totally hadn't gotten lost whatsoever. I could totally save face by just sauntering up the counter like nothing bad had happened.

As soon as I entered an aisle that had a ton of pickled vegetables in it, I spotted an employee restocking the shelves. Even in his hunched over position, I could tell that this dude had to be pretty tall so he could probably spot my annoying stepbrother from a kilometer away.

I shuffled my feet over towards the man who had his back turned to me. I could see the way his muscles seemed to strain against his tight polo that was his work uniform. I cleared my throat to get his attention. "Um, sprechen Sie Englisch?" I asked him, asking if he spoke English.

The employee straightened his posture, towering over me. He wasn't anywhere near as tall as Dominik, but he still made me seem really tiny. He turned around, giving me a full view of the muscled chest that he possessed. The dude must've worked out a ton because every inch of his bod was blessed with lean, cut muscle. He looked like those swimmers in the Olympics where they're toned but not big. He left the top two buttons of his polo undone, offering a sneak peek of his smooth pec cleft. The man's jet black hair was gelled up and stylized in a spiky manner that made him look all prickly. Affixed to his uniform was a name tag that read: Erik.

"Yes..." the man answered in his deep voice (not as deep as Dominik's), his words trailing off as soon as his yellow eyes landed on my 10/10 face. The yellow orbs widened as his jaw dropped in what looked like shock.

Confused, I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see something amazing. But all there was were some pickled radishes... yuck.

"Um," I mumbled, shuffling my feet awkwardly underneath the stare of this giant dude, "could you please point me in the direction of the customer service desk?"

The employee, Erik, snapped out of whatever daze he was in. His face broke out into a wide smile that showed off all of his eerily sharp teeth— what on earth is up with everyone in Bedburg having yellow eyes and sharp teeth? It must be something in the tap water. "Of course," he breathed. "It'd be my pleasure."

We were about to walk off when he eyed the plethora of delectable snacks in my arms.

"Here, allow me," he said, not waiting for a response before he grabbed the snacks from my straining arms. He looked down at the abundance of Haribo and chuckled. "You like sweets?"

I could feel my cheeks grow warm. I may almost be seventeen, but even I am aware of the fact that unlike most guys my age, I tend to be a bit more "cutesy" to say the least. I am painfully aware of the fact that eating shit tons of candy and obsessing over bunnies is not the norm, but whatever.

I nodded. "I just moved here, so I had to have some," I responded, noting that Erik slowed his pace in order to keep in time with my shorter legs.

Erik hummed in thought, his yellow eyes still superglued to my face. "Oh?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested for some obscure reason. "Where'd you move here from?" As we walked, he stayed within one pace from me, as if he were purposefully trying to stay close to me.

"Canada," I answered. "I used to visit here a lot as a kid, but now I'm living here."

Erik pursed his lips in thought before straightening his posture. "So," he clicked his tongue, his eyes running up and down my form, "are you going to attend Gymnasium here in Bedburg?"

Obviously I've heard loads about Stranger Danger, but this stranger was hot. Therefore, the rules don't apply!

Plus, Gymnasium is the school that German students attend if they have the scores that indicate that they will attend universities or career paths more engaged in STEM. Erik must think I look smart, which totally boosted my confidence by the smallest fraction. "Y-yeah," I stuttered, my heart fluttering in my chest.

A light pinkish hue formed on Erik's handsome face, but unlike Dominik, he didn't turn away from me and instead allowed me full view of his emotion. "I go there too," he grinned. "Maybe we'll have to hang out when we see each other."

Was... was this flirting?

I've never experienced it in real life, and it sure wasn't due to a lack of trying. People just so happened to not be interested in me at all. However, I've diligently studied TV and movies alike, paying extra close attention to the male leads and how they attempted to woo their on-screen counterparts. There seemed to be different levels to it, of which I like to think I'd be able to recognize any man interested in riding the Max Experience© would employ.

First and foremost, the guy would try to be helpful in a sort of manner that is genuinely of use to their future conquest, yet it's also nonchalant so that they don't come off as desperate. It can be a situation in which the dude simply helps to carry something heavy or does a simple task or even offers his sweater to the girl (or guy in my case). Now Erik scored some major points by carrying all of my German snacks for me; and whereas I had had my arms filled to the brim with treats that threatened to fall to the linoleum, he didn't appear to struggle a single bit. 5/5.

Second, the dude would smile in the direction of the object of his affection. But he wouldn't want to come off as creepy or cheesy, so it'd be the Edward Cullen Classic Crooked Grin. This is a sure fire way to melt the subject's heart because it straight up mimics the smiles of the sexy men in People Magazine! I will admit that this level is somewhat optional because there are some guys who act too cool for school, in which they don't want to look like they possess these things called "Emotions", so they don't allow their smile to be easily visible. That can be hot, I'll admit. Still, as I glanced up at Erik now, he was absolutely wearing that crooked smile. 4/5.

And third (there's definitely more, but I usually don't watch the whole movie because I'm far too busy), the dude will often times exhibit a little jealousy. Now, I will one-hundred percent be one of the first to say that if one feels overly mistrustful of their significant other then they shouldn't be together. However, there's something about a hot guy being a tad bit lime green jelly that is kinda hot. Maybe it's a toxic trait of mine, but I love the romance novel trope of the male lead getting all green-eyed monster over their darling. Whatever, I never claimed that I was perfect. That being said, although I like the trope, I would never do anything to purposefully make my man jealous. Although I'd probably like to see it, I'm not that horrible. Rating Pending.

Erik playfully brushed his side up against mine as we walked, making me giggle a little bit. "You can guess my name from my name tag, but what's your name, Sweetie?" he asked.

Aww, he called me Sweetie! It's most likely because of the fact that I was planning wasting all of my euro on sweets, but still!

"My name is Max," I told him, "...and my number is 1-604-555-2967." Smooth.

Erik's smile morphed from a grin to full on cheesing. His mouth was stretched from ear-to-ear, showing off his pearly whites that had oddly sharp canines, sort of like Dominik and Alaric. The blush on his face deepened and there was much noticeable pep to his step now.

"Gr-great!" he beamed. "I'll definitely give you a call sometime."

I could feel my own smile starting to take over my face. Wow, none of this ever happened to me back in Canada. It was only my second day of living in Germany, and already I had a dude express minor interest in me. Shoot, at this point, I would've settled for a second passing glance. But now I had a hot guy who actually asked me my name and who I'll be going to school with! Maybe I can snag a ride with him so that I won't have to take the bus? And then that little spark of friendship will potentially blossom into a full blown relationship! Then I'll have my first date, first kiss, first boyfriend— first everything!

Everything's finally coming up Max!

"Achtung Käufer, wir haben ein verlorenes Kind im Laden. Kann Max bitte zum Kundenservice zurückkehren? Dein Vormund wartet auf dich," a voice announced on the store's PA system.

I may have forgotten all of my German, and I was nowhere near being considered fluent even before that, but I know that I heard my name on the PA. I glanced up at Erik, who seemed to have stiffened a little.

"They said that your guardian is waiting for you at the customer service desk," he translated.

"'My guardian'?" I repeated. What the hell did that even mean? My dad was my guardian, and he was at work. I came here with Dominik... unless the employee mistook him for my guardian seeing as how I look small and youthful, and he looks big and old (hehe). "Oh God..."

"What is it?" Erik pressed, sounding insistent.

We rounded the corner of the aisle we were venturing through, and sure enough, there was the customer service desk well within view. And at said customer service desk was standing none other than Dominik, who had his large arms crossed angrily in front of his beefy chest. His jaw was clenched and when we made eye contact, he narrowed his yellow eyes at me.

But they widened when he spotted Erik walking closely by my side, before narrowing again, this time in the direction of the friendly employee who was just helping me. His upper lip began to twitch as it curled up over his teeth, resembling an animalistic snarl of pure hatred. He puffed out his mighty chest and began to stomp towards us.

Erik froze in his spot and I could see his Adam's apple quiver as he loudly gulped underneath the glare of my stepbrother. "Is he your guardian?" Erik whispered to me.

"What?" I gasped in horror. "No."

"Yes," Dominik answered, somehow able to hear the freaked out employee.

"What?!" I asked again, this time at Dominik and his weird ass answer!

I took a step away from Erik, just in time to witness the scene before me. Dominik and Erik stood chest to chest, having some obscure, silent stare down. Dominik stood about a head taller than Erik, and he was much more buff (Erik's no stick though), so if the two of them were to throw hands, my money would one-hundred percent be on Dominik for the win. Both of the young men had their matching yellow eyes narrowed at one another and they both appeared to be snarling, a faint rumbling echoing throughout the Wasgau as the bro-down occurred.

My brain struggled immensely to piece together what the hell was going on right now. For some unknown reason, Dominik and Erik appeared to have beef. It was as if they had some sort of animosity that resulted in a fight whenever they were within the same vicinity of one another. I half-expected Dominik to knock Erik's head off with one mighty swing of his muscular arm.

Instead, he forced on the fakest smile that I've ever seen anyone wear. Despite grinning, his eyes were still narrowed and full to brim with disdain. "Thank you for returning my boy to me," he sneered at the innocent employee.

"'Your boy'?" I repeated, but was ignored.

Erik forced on his own plastic smile, still maintaining heated eye contact with Dominik. "I am all too happy to help our customers," he spat, "especially those who were left all alone to carry all their groceries by themselves. I suppose you were busy?"

Dominik's fake smile faltered and he went back to clenching his jaw. He leaned in closer to Erik, growling out, "Als dein zukünftiger Leitwolf befehle ich dir, meinen Jungen in Ruhe zu lassen."

There was that word "Leitwolf" that I'd heard over and over again the last time I'd been in Germany. Still, I had no clue what it meant. I'd even tried to Google it in the past, but I hadn't found a single answer, only Google Images of wolves. Whatever.

Erik swallowed but he straightened his posture as best as he could. "Du bist noch nicht der Leitwolf," he growled, his voice nowhere as intimidating as Dominik's. "Und außerdem sagt mir mein Wolf, dass er mir gehört."

Dominik's eyes widened and he took a deep breath. "Was?" he snarled before taking a look at my confused face.

For the millionth time in my life, I was utterly lost. Mentally, this time. All I wanted to do was just buy some German Fanta and candy! Was that so horrible?!

Dominik didn't wait for a response and instead stomped over towards me, snaking a strong arm around my waist and yanking me in close to his body. I was stunned silent, allowing the older guy to lead me out of the store and away from my candy (and Erik). Dominik moved swiftly and I had trouble keeping up with him, but he refused to lessen his stride and only stopped when we were right in front of the van. He unlocked the passenger side door and virtually tossed me in, even going so far as to lean inside and buckle my seatbelt for me before slamming the door shut.

...what is happening to my life right now?

I haven't even been in Germany for a full twenty-four hours yet, and already Dominik was giving me a headache. I knew that he was a weirdo back when I was kid, but I'd foolishly believed that he'd outgrown that persona! Instead he'd evidently leaned into it and allowed himself to be consumed by his creepy personality.

Why did he and Erik seem to dislike one another?

Why was Dominik so bossy when it came to me?

What did Erik say to make Dominik leave the Wasgau?

Why did Dominik refer to himself as my guardian?

Why didn't Dominik let me buy my German Fanta?!

All these questions and more swirled around my head, and even when Dominik got in on the driver's side and began to speed back to the house, I struggled to voice a single one. I wanted to berate him and demand to know what his damage was, but even I knew that he'd probably shrug me off. I suppose some guys just never outgrow teen angst. That's sad.

"Um," I began, trying to formulate a question as I turned off to the radio, "what was that?"

Dominik didn't look away from the road. His lower jaw was still madly clenched and he gripped the steering wheel with immense force. He passed cars left and right on the road as he raced back to the house, seemingly on a mission.

"Nothing," he grunted. "I just need to talk to my father about... something."

Something was up. I've learned to listen to my gut; usually I'd been told that for test taking purposes whenever it was multiple choice. It could be applicable to this situation too! I knew that there was some kind of animosity between Dominik and Erik, but I didn't know why. I normally wouldn't care had it not totally fucked up my chances of potentially getting a first date/boyfriend! Now whenever I do happen to run into Erik at school, I bet he'll probably avoid me thanks to my scary stepbrother!

Way to go Dominik, you asshole!

"But..." I started again, earning another glare from my pissed off driver. "You referred to yourself as my guardian...?"

Dominik snorted. "You'll learn soon enough."

"What does that even mean?" I cried, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

We stopped at a red light, and Dominik took this opportunity to turn his body to face me head on. His thick eyebrows pulled down over his narrowed yellow eyes as he stared daggers at me. His upper lip still twitched as he prepared to snarl, his eerily sharp canines on full display. He pointed a thick finger at me as he spat out his words through clenched teeth: "It means you're mine."

The light turned green and Dominik floored the gas pedal, turning on the radio to prevent me from asking any more questions. He played some hard rock that in German and that blared through the speakers at an obnoxious decibel.

I silently sat in the passenger seat, too stunned to do anything else.