The smell of smoke and curiosity

~What the hell happened?~

I bolted up in bed with a throat so dry, gasping for air, it was painful and uncomfortable, so I reached out for the water I know I left at my bedside. Except it wasn't there, nor was my bedside, for I wasn't in my bedroom, this isn't my house. I looked down to see I had a bandage on my hand, so I touched my neck to find that has one on as well when In an instant all the memories flooded back. Eric and what he tried to do to me, how I nearly died and how I was saved. Saved by Dante...

The last memory that I recalled sent a shiver down my spine, it was Eric getting thrown across the room and then suddenly dropping to the floor. How could Dante of done that? I started to panic then I sensed a presence in the room, he was standing in the doorway. "you're awake?" one eyebrow raised with a concerned look on his face with something in his hands as he proceeded towards me, "do you take coffee? I don't have any milk, so I hope you can drink it black also got no food in at the moment but I'm going to pop to the shop and get you something to eat" Placing the coffee down by the bed he nodded and went to walk out again. "Wait" he stopped abruptly in the doorway, his head slightly tilted. "What happened? last night?" I'm too nervous and slightly frightened to hear the answer but I need to know, I need to know what he did. 

Head still tilted, not wanting to make eye contact he scratched his chin and let out a sigh. "we'll talk later, rest, for now, I'll be back soon with your food" he left without me even getting another word in.  With nothing else to do besides sit and wait for him, I pushed myself out of the black velvet-covered bed and scanned the room. Still slightly aching from hitting the ground hard last night I stumbled as I stood and into the old wooden dresser that had my coffee on. The balcony doors next to it, where he likes to smoke, and to the right of that hung shelves filled with tons of books, running my fingers through them I released how old some of them looked, he must be a collector. The only colour in this place were the paintings on the very bland walls of his home, paintings of beautiful animals, flowers and one in particular, which caught my eye.  The captivating colours of a sunrise at the end of his bed, it's so beautiful it almost looks like it tells a story. 

I grabbed my coffee from the bedroom and decided to wander into the kitchen, the layout was very much like mine except his kitchen counter was near the door and the sofa was on the opposite side, I placed my coffee on the marble-like counter and my mind started to wonder. Was Eric dead or just unconscious and if he was only knocked out where is he now? Why did Dante come to the rescue? and why were his eyes glowing for that last second? I now know I'm not crazy or imagining these things now because it was the second time I've seen it happen.  But why were they like that? what is he? ...

The front door swung open, pulling me from my thoughts "I thought I told you to rest" he exclaimed as he placed a singular shopping bag onto the counter starting to pull out the contents. "how can I possibly rest when I was almost killed yesterday?" his actions stopped when I spoke, causing him to sigh again. A moment went by then he slid two different sandwiches across the counter to me still not making eye contact. "I wasn't sure what you like so I got you two and a latte from the machine as I assume you'd prefer that over the weak excuse for a coffee I gave you, also here are some pain meds as I know you need them"  he had this sullen look on his face while he walked to his fridge. "Thank you very much" were the only words that would come out as I peeled back the tuna sandwich packet, too frightened and shook up to even try to pluck up the courage to ask what went on. He nodded and walked to the fridge to put in some milk and when he opened it, there really was nothing there. Why didn't he buy any food for himself when he was out? Now that I'm thinking about it I've noticed he only has a kettle, no toaster, no microwave, and the stoves look like they have never been used. What is going on with this man? 

He took away my other black coffee mug and placed it into the sink and put the kettle on. Back turned to me "When you're done with that you should go home" he muttered with a disturbing tone to his voice. Hard swallowing the last piece of my food an uneasy feeling came over me,  he did not want to speak about what happened. The tension in the room gathered as I let out a small cough to clear my very sore throat and the bubble of millions of questions that were clogging it. "Where did Eric go?" He stopped dead in pouring himself a drink as I've just offended him of some sort, then immediately put down the kettle. "I think you should go now" becoming increasingly confused and anxious but I have to find out what happened "Did you hurt him?" he slammed his coffee cup on the side so hard it made me jump. "I said I think you should go, please leave now" his disturbing tone was no longer there for now it was anger that he spat at me. 

I stood from the counter grabbing the latte but leaving the other sandwich for him and started to walk towards the door, "Thank you for everything you have done I'll take my leave now" as I reached the handle something made me hesitate, whatever he did he saved my life and I need him to know that I'm grateful for it. "I don't mind what you did to him, he was an awful man and if it wasn't for you I'd be dead right now" I felt a sudden warmth on the back of my neck causing my hair to stand on edge when I realized it was his breath, he's now standing right behind me readying himself to speak. "Even if I killed him?"...