Post by Max Kameren on Jul 9, 2018 23:00:01 GMT -5
As he sat in the corner booth at the Three Broomsticks, it occurred to Max that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been there sober. He glanced up from the book he was reading and narrowed his eyes in thought, wracking his brain for an adult memory of the Three Broomsticks that wasn’t blurred by scotch. He came up empty, deciding proximity to Eden’s old studio had something to do with it. They tended to encourage each other in that regard. Max shrugged, returning to his book. He would be making a new entry into the Sober-Broomsticks-Meeting logbook today, at least.
Max and Jamie had been writing back and forth for months, but it had occurred to him finally after running into him a few days prior that they had never really had a one-on-one conversation in person, just the two of them. Max had always been too busy; now, returned from America and working full-time to rebuild the Stone with Cain, he had time. The Stone’s construction so thoroughly sapped Max’s energy that he was working half-days, doing his best to recharge and sacrifice another shred from his aura the following day. He could easily make time for tea with Jamie. His cousin’s energetic aura would recharge him in no time.
His book snapped shut as Max felt a familiar aura making its way through the entry; Max had cleared the student’s entry into the Broomsticks with management, as late afternoons were usually reserved only for of-age customers. For the late Headmaster’s son and nephew, an exception could be made for an afternoon. Max glanced up, emerald eyes searching for a spot of shaggy ginger hair coming through the doorway.
Max and Jamie had been writing back and forth for months, but it had occurred to him finally after running into him a few days prior that they had never really had a one-on-one conversation in person, just the two of them. Max had always been too busy; now, returned from America and working full-time to rebuild the Stone with Cain, he had time. The Stone’s construction so thoroughly sapped Max’s energy that he was working half-days, doing his best to recharge and sacrifice another shred from his aura the following day. He could easily make time for tea with Jamie. His cousin’s energetic aura would recharge him in no time.
His book snapped shut as Max felt a familiar aura making its way through the entry; Max had cleared the student’s entry into the Broomsticks with management, as late afternoons were usually reserved only for of-age customers. For the late Headmaster’s son and nephew, an exception could be made for an afternoon. Max glanced up, emerald eyes searching for a spot of shaggy ginger hair coming through the doorway.