Some 2 and a half hours passed, almost three, and Damian was awake again. He prepared himself for their arrival in Konsweg. Only minutes earlier, he had conversed with Maria over the phone, informing her that he was to arrive very soon.
Damian heard her yelling out for her husband in the back to get ready to go to Konsweg. She reassured Damian, a few minutes later, of just that. 'Your uncle should be in Konsweg in about 20 minutes, hopefully you won't have to wait for him for too long!'.
The ride went on for a few more minutes before a gentle beep was heard, followed by an automated voice announcing the preparation for their arrival into Konsweg.
Pointing his gaze back out the window, Damian noticed that the indigo in the sky turned into a colour a mere few shades lighter than the usual midnight blue. Remnants of the sun remained, but at a fraction of its luminosity. A slight hue of orange, right by the horizon, hinting at where the sun set, resting for the night that followed from the Veursian skies.
Soon, the first lights of houses and businesses came into view. The periphery of Konsweg. And the more the train travelled, the slower it got, and the more populated the other side of the window seemed to get. Damian could see that even for a small, countryside town, Konsweg was still quite lively, bustling with youth.
The scenery slowly turned more dispersed as they got closer to the station, and then, the arrival platform caught Damian's sight. Getting his stuff ready and standing up, he tried to keep his balance with the slowing train as he made his way to the luggage rack. He didn't even want to attempt picking up the luggage while the train was still in motion; he waited for when it halted to a stop, releasing a loud hush.
The doors opened and passengers emerged from the carriages, Damian carrying his luggage before letting it onto its wheels when he stepped out onto the platform, rolling it behind him as he tugged at the baggage by its handle. Entering through an arch, the infrastructure of the station prompted Damian to walk ahead, reaching an electric barrier where he had to scan his ticket to pass through.
On the other side, he saw two ways ahead of him. One to the left and another to his right. The way to the left, as he saw a moment later, was a sort of food court, which seemed to be closed, for the most part. The way to the right, where most of the passengers went, was the direction of the exit as highlighted by the station markings.
Deciding he wasn't all that hungry, a slight lie, he proceeded to walk toward the exit, sending Maria a message that he had arrived at Konsweg.
And there, about a minute later, he got a call from Maria.
The call was brief as Maria mentioned Jacob's arrival was to be very soon, consisting of them both exchanging pleasantries before Maria asked him about the train journey. Mentioning that it was nothing out of the ordinary, Maria then commented on the traffic around Konsweg. "I don't know what's going on tonight, but Jacob told me there was a traffic jam on the carriage way into Konsweg.".
Her words reminded him of the lively look the town had as the train was arriving at the station. It made him wonder if it was always like that, or if his arrival just so happened to overlap with a celebration of some sort, held in the small place. "Could be some sort of a festival...". And to his words, Maria let through a rush of air past her lips. "It's always a party in Konsweg...". Maybe the countryside wasn't as different as Damian had initially thought.
The call ended not too long after, with Maria mentioning she'll tell Andrea of Damian's arrival, so she's not worried.
Now outside, leaning against a wall, he waited, phone in his hands, scrolling through his social media feed. Time was ticking by, and soon, he found it had been nearly 10 minutes since Maria called him. The parking lot emptied within the first 5 minutes of their arrival, and with Damian glancing up at the entrance every once in a while, worry started filling him up when he saw no sign of his uncle.
Then, as if it were clockwork, just as he looked back down into his phone, he received a call from Maria. Answering, she greeted him with an apology. "Damian, I am so sorry... Jacob just called me, said the car broke down. He was 5 minutes from the station when it decided to stall and refuse to power back on.".
Releasing an audible gasp, Damian was taken aback by the news. Placing a hand on his chin, he spoke up, "Oh my... is uncle alright?".
"He's all good... but that's what he gets when I tell him to get the car checked and he doesn't do it! I heard this weird sound in the engine last week. I bet that's it!".
"Well..." Damian began thinking of an alternative way for him to get to Orovac, and that being by a bus or a taxi. "I can hop onto a bus and get to Orovac, or even take a taxi...".
"No need at all, our friends were kind enough to offer to go and collect you. Well, their son. Wyatt. But I don't know how long that'll take, so you might be alone for a little bit longer. I'm so sorry again for all of this... We've wanted to see you for so long, and this is how we await you finally coming...".
Damian let out a small laugh of ridicule. "Don't worry yourself about this, Aunt Maria. These things happen, unfortunately enough, it happened tonight.".
"You know... You remind me a lot of Andrea when she was your age. So understanding, genuine... Anyway, I'll call you back to tell you if anything changes. And also, don't be surprised if you see a random number call you. I gave Wyatt your number so he can call you when he's close by.". And soon after, with them both exchanging the final few words for the call, Maria hung up, assuring him that she'll find a way, herself, to come and pick up Damian if Wyatt also, just like Jacob, finds himself in a pickle.
The time slowly ticked on, and just after 10 in the evening, Damian felt his phone vibrate, simultaneously playing the rhythm of his ringtone through his earphones. Digging his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, his gaze was greeted by a bunch of numbers as the caller ID. 'Gotta be Wyatt,' Damian thought to himself, unplugging the earphone jack before answering the call. "Hello?" he started, placing the phone to his ear. Imagining Wyatt had no clue of who he was, Damian continued, introducing himself. "Damian speaking.".
"Hey," a voice came from the other end of the call. It was deeper than Damian anticipated. "Hey, Damian. Glad I have the right number then. Wyatt speaking... You might not know me, but Maria, your Aunt, told me that happened to Jacob's car. I'm 2 minutes from the station, would you like me to come to the front of it, or have you gone ahead and went somewhere else in Konsweg?". Wyatt had a slight rasp to his voice and for a second, the deepness, roughness made Damian unable to form a proper sentence.
In the end, letting through a few ahhs and ehhs, Damian told Wyatt he was still at the station, standing in front of the entrance. "I can walk elsewhere tho, if it suits you. I know Maria told me about the traffic and all.".
"No need, I'm about to turn into the station.".
And there, as Damian looked up to the main gate of the station, he saw a car come up. A dark blue sedan. "I think I see you," Wyatt spoke.
"Yeah, I think I see you too.".
Hanging up the call a few moments later, Damian observed the car rolling toward him, following the road and pulling up a few meters from him. There, he could see the car was not a cheap make, and with the elegant build of the vehicle, it made it a total beauty.
He could also tell, just by looking at the car, that Wyatt liked them quite a bit.
And there, with the opening of the driver's door and emergence of the person behind the wheel, Damian could piece together the voice and taste of cars of Wyatt to his face and looks.
He was tall, taller than expected. Although Damian was only slightly taller than the average, so it was an easy enough characteristic to surpass. A shadowed stubble rested on his face, all the while, his hair was parted to the side in a messy style that suited him. Really well.
His face had small patches of a mere tan, as well as his arms and hands, all skin his flannel exposed. Farmer's tan, as they called it.
Approaching Damian, the dark brown eyes he had became clearer, and it was those very eyes that, when they looked at Damian, caused him to flush with a gentle rush of red all over his cheeks.
Reaching Damian, Wyatt offered a hand as a greeting.
Accepting the offer, Damian locked his hand with Wyatt's, an act of nothing but a greeting, yet it sent thousands of sparks flying through Damian, all around his body.
Next, he noticed how rough the palm of his hand was, and even with a gentle squeeze—if he missed it from the way his arms bulged in the short sleeves of his shirt, Damian got only a hint of Wyatt's utter strength.
It made him gulp, the redness on his cheeks further darkening. "Finally nice to put a face to a voice!" Wyatt greeted him.
"Likewise," Damian replied, feeling as though Wyatt read his mind only seconds earlier.
With the parting of their hands, a sense of unexpected disappointment spread through Damian's stomach, and in that, silence descended amongst them both.
There, each looking into the eyes of the other, Wyatt broke their short trance, pointing to the luggage beside Damian. "Lemme take care of that...".
Wanting to protest, retort, and tell Wyatt he'll do it himself, Damian aborted all his efforts after another rush of heat went to his cheeks when he felt his hand graze off Wyatt's. He forced himself to make no utterance, watching the man before him carry the baggage to the back of his car and put it into the trunk.
Feeling as though he needed to make himself, at least, a bit useful, he hoped to save Wyatt from telling him where to sit in the car by doing it himself.
Sitting in the car, the passenger seat up front, he hoped his nerves would in one way or another soothe themselves out; however, he was wrong. Very wrong.
The scent from within washed over him. Or perhaps, washed over was an understatement—it hit him like a 3-metre wave crashing onto a stormy beach. His chest tightened, the back of his neck heating up as his hands grew unsteady, making it more difficult than usual to strap himself in.
Sandalwood, mixed with the scent of vanilla and musk, alongside the typical smell of a new car, became a new scent label in Damian's head. 'Wyatt'.
Sitting into the driver's seat a moment after Damian, Wyatt dragged the seatbelt across himself, and with a mere click, he drove off.
"I hope you didn't wait long for me..." Wyatt's voice trailed. It made Damian realise it was the last thing he needed to hear right now.
He felt like, if he could, he'd have melted into a puddle right there, right then. He never felt this way, not for anyone, let alone any man. And quite quickly, he came to realise he should label Wyatt with an additional tag. Danger.
There was no way, in the mere 5 minutes of him knowing Wyatt, that he'd let himself blush and fluster over common conversation with the man.
By the time he managed to regain a part of his composure, he'd forgotten what Wyatt had said to him. Slight reluctance filled the pit of his stomach, as well with that, a small lump grew in his throat, his heart beating against his chest, knowing he had to ask him to repeat what he said. "W-what was that?". He stammered. Damian Kovac never stammered before. His own body betrayed him. He let himself crack under Wyatt's presence, and it made him want to sink underground.
He could barely speak, his tongue feeling as if it were tied into a knot, and he only felt himself get warmer with each second that passed.
'Get yourself together, Damian!' he scolded himself. He needed someone to slap him, put some common sense back into his head. He knew Daina would do it if he paid her enough.
"Just said that I hope you didn't wait long for me," Wyatt repeated. Then, raising the blinker, he turned left onto another street.
"Ah, no, no..." Damian began. The giddiness still ruled his body, traveling through his chest and down to the pit of his stomach before going back up like a conveyor belt. And the feeling of heaviness that slowly grew inside the cabin of the car did not help. The only thing he could think to do was to talk more. And that's what he did. "Had some music on, so the time flew by...".
"Music, yeah? What kind of music do you listen to?".
Damian let out an involuntary chuckle. He listened to so much music, it would be easier to ask what music he didn't listen to. His chuckle didn't seem to go unnoticed, with Wyatt glancing to his left.
"Why the chuckle?" Wyatt started, a smile growing on his lips, too. "Did I say something funny?".
"No, no... Not at all. It would have been easier to ask me what music I didn't like.".
"I see... Are you a fan of the 90s?".
Initially nodding, Damian uttered further affirmation, "Yeah, big time. I'd have periods where I'd listen to the 90s only. On repeat.".
"Is that so?". Every question of Wyatt's seemed like a tease, something to provoke Damian even further, as if Wyatt knew what sort of effect he had upon him. "I am a huge fan of the 90s myself. I can put some on if you like...".
There, Damian observed as Wyatt worked his way on the interactive screen in the dashboard of his car.
Slight confusion filled him from within when he saw Wyatt navigate his way into his contact list. And then, a moment later, it occurred to him. He was about to contact Maria. "But before that, I gotta let your aunt know you're safe and sound.".
Dragging his way through the list, Wyatt dialed her.
With her picking up a few seconds later, her first words merely made Damian smile. "Did you pick my nephew up?".
"Yeah, he's right beside me," he responded, as if prompting Damian to speak up.
"Don't worry, Auntie. I'm here, we're on our way back home.".
"Alright, good, good..." her voice bounced through the speakers of the car.
"Maria, what about Jacob? Should I pick him up too?".
"No, don't worry about him. He contacted me, saying a friend of his is coming for the car. Mino, the mechanic. Not too sure if you know him.".
"I think I heard my father mention him a few times...". In that, Damian and Wyatt exchanged a glance, Damian looking away first. A flush of red once more set its way to his cheeks, making them feel as though they were on fire.
"I'd be surprised if Frederick didn't know him... Anyway...". The name clicked in Damian's head. His father packed something for Frederick. And there, turning his head to look at Wyatt once more, who now had his eyes out the road as he continued talking to Maria, the realisation set within Damian.
Wyatt was Frederick's son.
A revelation that didn't seem all that major, but to Damian it was like a plot twist.
Deep in thought, Damian didn't notice the call ended soon, with Maria inviting Wyatt and his family over for coffee the next morning.
"Alright, I'll make sure to tell Annalise when I get home. Thank you, Maria," Wyatt's voice pulled Damian out of his small trance. "Now... where was I?" he continued, uttering under his breath. Backing out of the phonebook, he found his way to the radio stations.
Whilst his conversing with Maria, they managed to drive through most of the traffic. "What's going on here..." Wyatt commented under his breath, reflecting on the traffic situation, his gaze switching between the windshield and the radio settings, trying to find a suitable station. "You said you liked the 90s too, no?". His inquiry sounded less like a question and more like a filler to keep the silence from becoming too deafening.
There, Damian nodded his head, complying with Wyatt's rule of thumb only seconds later. "One of my favourite genres of music.".
His words earned him a smile from Wyatt, pleased with the answer as he chose a station. Almost immediately, music from nearly 3 decades ago filled the car.
Loud enough to hear, yet quiet enough to allow a comfortable conversation, it prompted Wyatt to further ask, "So, Veursir then, is that right?".
Damian nodded his head. "Yeah... Good ole Veursir.".
"What do you do there? Are you a student, or?...".
"I study there, yeah.".
Wyatt nodded his head, tapping his fingers off the leather steering wheel to the beat of the music. "And what do you study?".
Damian let through a small smile, "So many questions, it's like you've memorised them from a bank of questions.".
His words earned another deep chuckle from Wyatt, which caused a rush to run through Damian's body. Ticking of the indicator filled the cabin of the car, as the vehicle turned onto an exit and drove further onto the dual-carriageway. "With us having some 20 more minutes of driving, it gives me a chance to get to know you more, don't you agree?". Ending his question with a glance toward Damian, he caught Damian's gaze just as he was looking away.
Heat seemed to fill the car, the air between them both getting hotter with each passing second. Damian was glad for the lighting, or the lack of it, as a matter of fact. It further diminished the chance of Wyatt noticing his flustered state.
Though the silence that was shared between them both made Damian wonder if his bodily reactions truly did go unnoticed on Wyatt's behalf. Was that the reason why he quietened down all of a sudden?
Damian knew there was only one way to know, and that was to keep talking. If anything, he'd keep talking to keep his sanity in check. "I study chemistry. What about you?".
"Business.". Quick. Cool. Collected, as Damian reflected. "What year are you in?". The follow-up question was unexpected.
"About to go into my 2nd last year," Damian replied.
"Not bad. I'm about to finish my master's degree.".
"Master's degree?... I could only dream of doing that.".
Wyatt chuckled again. 'We're good...' Damian noted.
Then Wyatt added, "It's alright, if you put your mind to it, it's manageable.".
The sound of a rock song playing on the radio, laced with the running of the engine of the car, took over the conversation. The remainder of the journey was more or less the same. Filled with muteness between the two men, letting the music, song after song, set an ambience for the atmosphere that, for the first time since Damian sat in the car, began to slowly let up.