Old Flames [Max/Simone/Open]

[Max Kameren]

The Stone would kill him. Max had made it through so much: duels, threats on his life and loved ones, even torture. It had only been a week, but the more Max exposed himself to it the more he was certain: it would be the stone that finally did it.

It was fitting really. The Stone required a soul; Cain had chosen Max to assist with his process for that purpose. The ritual that would rebuild it required the sacrifice of a pure soul - the soul of a person who had never killed. Not only did he fit that description, but he also possessed another skill: he could sense and manipulate his own soul and the souls of others. From there They set about an alternative, more humane process of rebuilding. Max would peel off pieces of his own soul gradually to contribute to the stone, taking steps bit by bit to protect himself. It was a slower process, but it circumvented them having to make a much graver decision.

But though the sacrifice was less, it still took a heavy toll on Max. Each feeding session, where he spun a piece of himself into the Stone to build it, left him wasting away. In the week since they’d begun Max was constantly fatigued, sick and in pain, waking with ever-darker circles under his eyes. Though it was a smaller toll overall it still felt very much like Max was sacrificing himself. The only difference was, hopefully, he could redevelop the pieces he lost.

Between sessions Max was useless, so tired even the simplest tasks were beyond him. Normally he would go home to rest, but they were getting closer to the Full Moon mentioned in Rowena’s note and Max had preparations to make. He sat hunched over his desk, closing and reopening the note in his left hand while he struggled to write notes with the other.

Max’s pen stalled for barely a moment and without looking up he sent a shock through his intruder, the shoulders of Simone Rosier surging behind his shoulder. “You don’t know the landscape of my head anymore Simmie. I’d advise against playing your old party tricks.”

[Max Kameren]

Eden Fletchers threats did little to stay Simone’s curiosity. It was more the strange hours he kept that left her on the edges of the bullpen, catching the bristled head above the crowd or an odd emerald glance in the hallway.

He was always a curious creature to Simone, equally as interesting to study in habit as he was to interact with. The first year of their relationship she’d studied him, after all. Done what she could to influence him, once she took notice of his more peculiar quirks. Maybe that was why now she fell into similar habits, pushing at him in the old way she would. A look and an intention, never approaching. Evidently she didn’t need to.

“You don’t know the landscape of my head anymore Simmie. I’d advise against playing your old party tricks.”

“Maxime,” Simone spun around the side of Max’s desk with a purr, taking in the sight of the man she’d left cracked in half years earlier. Though the shape was the same the few years had worn on him. It hadn’t been long but he looked years olde. Decades even, scarred and sunken like the father whose shadow he tried to escape.

“Clever as always. Though not too clever - what’s this?” A gentle hand reached out to cup Max’s jaw, her finger running over the ridge where his earlobe once was. “Let someone get a bit too close, I see.”

She chuckled as he reeled from her touch, smiling dreamily at the lanky wizard and leaning back on the Junior Auror’s desk next to his. “How are you feeling, Mr. Kameren? Heard you’ve been under the weather.” She arches a brow as her chocolate brown eyes deflected to his slumped shoulders.

[Max Kameren]

“Maxime,” The static that sparked up Max’s spine was involuntary with the French purr she lingered on his name. She was the only one who ever called him by his full name. She preferred the French sound of it, it was more posh. But it was never him. “Clever as always. Though not too clever - what’s this? Let someone get a bit too close, I see.”

“Too close? Never.” Max leaned away from touch, though he was loath to admit to himself it was more to avoid a surge of pleasant memory than repulsion. Suddenly Max was aware of eyes on him, auras focusing on their interaction. Evidently their relationship preceded them, no doubt from Eden’s infamous fury for any woman who dared have a falling out with Max. He could practically hear the rumor mill’s churning set into motion.

A quick scan in his mind of the bullpen told him Eden was elsewhere. It made sense; he figured Simone had made a similar pass through the halls to avoid the Wrath of Fletcher. “What do you want, Simone?”

“How are you feeling, Mr. Kameren? Heard you’ve been under the weather.”

Max was suddenly hyper-aware of how he looked, with his slumped shoulders and sunken eyes. Subconsciously he straightened his shirt to hide the mess of scars across his chest that often poked above his shirt collar. In the four-and-a-half years since they parted ways she had aged better; Max was run ragged while she looked largely the same. Now the former Healer looked more at home here in the Department of Law Enforcement, scarred and fatigued and keeping a straight face in spite of dire consequences.

Those consequences were very real, coming more into focus the closer they got to the time scribbled on Rowena’s note. Rowena was in danger, the love of his life. But she was trying to fight this battle on her own. She’d pushed him away, rejected him, and absconded to a secret society that wouldn’t let him see or speak to her. She shut him out in the dark, leaving him lonely and grasping for any last piece of her he could hold onto. Berating him about the physical danger of her – their – battle with no regard for the mental anguish that somehow hurt so much more. They weren’t even together.

And Simone was right here, looking at him. Smiling. Maybe something had changed in four-and-a-half years.

“Maxime?”

“Oh – Fine,” Max snapped out of his train of thought, rubbing an eye and casually pushing his notes for the ambush aside and out of Simone’s line of site. “I’m fine. Been experimenting with the Cursebreakers. Nothing I can’t handle.”

[Eden Fletcher]

It had only a taken a few minutes for the snake to slither into the bull pen and lure Max Kameren into a trance. That loathsome smellfungus worked fast. Eden had been gone for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Eden Fletcher just hoped it would take just as fast to make her disappear. She couldn't pop down to the chippy in the lobby for some supper without Simone Rosier making a nuisance of herself. The woman had been lurking around the bullpen for weeks. Simone was sulking around the auror offices like a skelpie limmer, slinking off if someone noticed her staring too long. Eden had tried to match Max's hours, knowing that if Simone found him alone she would strike. And Eden had been right. She knew before she even entered the bull pen that the rakefire had taken up residence. Eden glared at the smirks and snide comments that were muttered as she walked into the office. She didn't have to look over at Max to know that the woman was there. But Eden looked and her whole body tensed. Bloody hell, the woman moved fast. She was practically fucking Max with her eyes.

Simone Rosier had to go. She was worse than Rowen and that was saying something. At least Rowena actually loved Max. Simone just saw a science experiment she could use to her advantage. She wanted Max for something and Eden would die before she would allow Simone to manipulate him again.

"Get lost on the way to the loo again Rosier?" Eden asked sweetly as she set down Max's dinner on his desk. He looked exhausted. He was working himself too hard with the stone experiments. Eden wasn't sure the last time he had gone home for more than an hour.

[Max Kameren]

The friendly smile creasing Simone’s lips grew in the corners, as he appeared to fall asleep in his chair in front of her. Whatever Law Enforcement had acquired him for they were stretching him thin. After their amicable-ish breakup Simone had sincerely fell out of contact. Sometime since then he’d begun to unravel. And here his family said she was bad for him; what had come next?

“Maxime?”

“Oh – Fine,” Max snapped out of his train of thought, rubbing an eye and casually pushing his notes for the ambush aside and out of Simone’s line of site. “I’m fine. Been experimenting with the Cursebreakers. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Nothing you can’t handle.” Simone repeated, arching a thin dark brow at his sleepy denial. “If I remember correctly there’s nothing you can’t handle.” Simone smirked as she saw the telltale signs of an incoming Classic Max Kameren One-Liner, but suddenly their tête-à-tête was crashed by an unwelcome third party.

"Get lost on the way to the loo again Rosier?"

Instead Simone had become the recipient of some Classic Eden Fletcher Toilet Humor. Lovely. She smiled patronizingly at the shorter woman before shifting her body language away from her towards Max, trying to physically cut Eden out of the conversation. “I was just checking in on our sickly colleague. Tu devrais être au lit, bonne poire.”

Mischievously Simone’s eyes flashed up at Eden; as far as she remembered French was a language Max knew but escaped his best friend. It had become quite useful in the later years of their courtship, if memory served.

[Max Kameren]

“Nothing you can’t handle. If I remember correctly there’s nothing you can’t handle.”

Max would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel a little spark in the pit of his chest. It was nice really, a distraction that shook him out of his usual heartbroken anxiety. Max sat a little straighter, green eyes narrowing on Simone.

"Get lost on the way to the loo again Rosier?" Right on time, there she was. Eden Fletcher, Max’s self-proclaimed romantic guardian. Max shot her a look of certain death as she dropped a packet of chips on his desk. The way she stood she may as well have pissed a circle around his desk to mark him as her territory.

“I was just checking in on our sickly colleague. Tu devrais être au lit, bonne poire.”

Max could feel the grating of the two auras between him chafe on each other. Suddenly this became less a conversation and more a competition in dominance. Should he just go, finish his plans at home and finally rest? He knew if he did that Eden would consider it a success and therefore worthy of continuation. No matter who won this battle, he loses.

“I’m fine, really Simmie.” Max tried to smile reassuringly at Simone while pushing Eden in his mind with his annoyance. To throw Eden a bone he picked up the chips, flicking the folded packet open as if it were evidence of his fortitude. “Appreciate your concern.”