[WIP] [ST 9: DUQUE.]

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“Of course…” Adrian mutters under his breath, cursing his luck.

With no other options available, he reluctantly takes the stairs. Each step down the ten floors to his apartment feels heavier than the last, fatigue gradually overtaking his body.

Reaching his floor, he heads toward his apartment door, located right next to the building’s janitor’s closet. Just as he inserts the key into the lock, he hears commotion inside. Adrian pauses to listen.

“MEOW! MEEOOWW!”

The frantic meowing from within brings a smile to his face. He turns the key and swings the door wide open.

Duque, his rescue cat, meows energetically and sprawls out on the floor in front of him, exposing his furry belly. The little guy is clearly happy –perhaps because his human has finally returned home… or maybe just because a second dinner might be on the horizon.

“I’m home.” Adrian smiles down at him. “You’re getting bigger, aren’t you?”

He lets Duque hop down from his arms, and they both enter the apartment. Adrian drops his camping gear near the entrance and heads straight for the bathroom, realizing just now how urgent his need to pee has become.

“Gaah~” he exclaims, releasing his bladder in relief.

Duque quickly follows him into the bathroom, meowing incessantly. Privacy is a concept the furry creature doesn’t grasp, though most of the blame lies with the bachelor who never bothers to close the door.

“Calm down, furball. Let me finish up here first. How does a can of tuna sound?” Adrian says to soothe him. The cat, as if understanding, meows one last time before settling into a contented purr.

Adrian washes his hands and stares at his reflection in the mirror. His face is smudged with dirt from days spent in the woods and his eyes reveal his exhaustion. He momentarily gets lost in thought, the memory of the electrifying spark that left him with goosebumps back in the roof flickering through his mind. He shakes his head, then splashes some water on his face.

“Sleep… That’s what I need. Sleep.” He convinces himself.

After leaving the bathroom, he heads to the kitchen, closely followed by Duque, who, bursting with all the energy that Adrian lacks at this moment, darts between his legs, threatening to make him trip. He grabs a can of tuna from the cupboard, opens it, and pours half into Duque’s bowl. He contemplates taking a spoonful for himself but realizes his appetite has vanished; fatigue is winning the battle.

He shuffles his feet  to the living room to retrieve his phone from his backpack, it is completely dead. He plugs it in his room, strips off all his clothes but his underwear and collapses onto the bed.

“Mmmmhh~” The relief of a soft bed envelops him, a stark contrast to the nights spent twisted up in a sleeping bag in the cold woods.

The phone flickers to life, and the first thing he notices is the time: past midnight. Then comes an avalanche of unread message notifications—some spam, others from his boss, but mostly from his childhood friend, Camila.

He opens the chat with her and scrolls up until he finds the last message he sent before losing signal in the woods: “I’m leaving for a few days; please take care of Duque. Feel free to use the apartment as you need; you have keys. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

From that point on, Camila’s messages reveal a sequence of concern, though understanding. They’ve known each other for years, both recognizing the necessity of disconnecting from reality to rest from their problems. However, this time has stretched longer than usual. As he reviews her messages, he notices her increasing worry for him.

“Maybe I should have told her where I was going…” he says to himself, knowing well that she would have been totally against it.

He stops scrolling and decides to write her back to reassure her, oblivious to the fact that his last message was only 30 minutes ago.

“I’m back home; I’m fine. Thanks for looking after Duque.” That's all he can write with the little energy he has left. And, as if on cue, Duque jumps onto the bed to join him.

Setting his phone on the nightstand, he collapses heavily onto the bed, arms at his sides, staring blankly at the ceiling.

In his last brief moments of lucidity, he reflects on the events of the past few days: what led him into the woods, where he set up his tent, when he decided to secretly photograph the Great Builder, why he trusted his nonexistent stealth skills, and how he ended up being inevitably discovered by him.

His eyelids grow heavier, his mind now drifting back to the events of the last few hours. The giant extending his hand for him to climb aboard, the journey spanning kilometers at the giant's mercy, the numerous landscapes around them that constantly changed with each colossal stride the giant took, the gentle rocking in the palm of his hand, the rough texture of the giant’s skin, gradually growing accustomed to the powerful scent that enveloped him, the wall of hair at his back… And the sensation of being monitored from high above at all moments. 

The many times he craned his head up to look up at the giant, all the minutes he spent picking on all the features on the Great Builder’s masculine face. His dark, thick beard, his eyes, and the depth of his gaze. A face marked by time, experience, and conflict.

Lastly, he vividly recalls the moment the Great Builder's piercing gaze locked onto him from high above, towering over him. The giant's deep voice resonated in the air as he pronounced Adrian's name for the first time: “A pleasure to meet you, Adrian.”

That’s the last image that flashes in Adrian’s mind before he falls into the embrace of deep slumber.

                                                                                   --- --- ---

The peaceful, warm summer night over the southern territory of Guarida offers its inhabitants a restful night.

The Great Builder traverses the city in silence, lost in his own thoughts. Yet, his heavy footsteps resonate through every street and neighborhood he passes. For the last time that night, his presence briefly interrupts the routine of the city he has shaped to his liking.

The bus station pauses its activity momentarily, following protocol. Few people remain inside, patient and calm, awaiting the colossus to finish his route so they can resume theirs.

Those who are not yet home resting wait without concern for the giant to leave the city. Some, far from feeling anxious, gaze up with familiar reverence from windows and street corners, eager to see the giant cross once more along his famous path.

The last to conclude their day are those tasked with monitoring the movements of the Great Builder, waiting for the precise moment he leaves the city behind. Only then, once his departure is confirmed, will the city of Suhr return to normalcy.

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