New Era [Michael]

[Max Kameren]

“Thank you, Mr. Kameren. We’ll see you on Tuesday.”

Max nodded with a polite smile and buttoned his coat before pushing the door outwards with his shoulder into the cold London winds. It was shaping up to be a brisk October, in more ways than just the weather. With his forced sabbatical and the collapse of his relationship with Rowena, Max felt like he was barely maintaining. The one place he could focus right now was his health; the sooner his hand was better, the sooner he could cast spells and brew potions again. Besides, coming up with muggle-friendly stories for his injuries had already grown old with him; he looked forward to returning to the Wizarding World, where the gawkers simply gawked.

It was now far enough out in his healing that Max didn’t need bandages, but he still struggled with dexterity and stiffness in his partially-reattached middle finger. After a brief discussion with Milton on the subject he’d decided to see a muggle physical therapist to get exercises to get his dexterity back to his needed potions crafting level.

There were a number of physical therapists in London Max found, but when he found the address of New Era PT he’d chosen it immediately: Kensington, on the same corner of the park as Rowena Covington’s home. Was it stalker-y? Most definitely, but she wasn’t answering his calls and his owl had been even worse. After four days, Max was quickly approaching stalker-levels of desperation in his longing to see her. Even if it meant another row, he needed some kind of closure if it was really over. He couldn’t stop loving her without it.

It hurt to think about, sending a pang of guilt and regret through his chest as he stepped out onto the London sidewalk. He paused for just a moment to check his phone; six outgoing calls, all to Rowena, all missed. No calls incoming. Max bit his lip, his green eyes darting upwards for the white townhome down the way he could nearly see from the doctor’s. When he tried to turn away he spun directly into someone and his phone went flying, landing with an unpleasant crack a few feet away.

“’Scuse me, mate,” Max took a step back and picked up his phone, assessing the damage.

[Rowena Jones]

His return to the country was going rather well all things considered, Michael thought as he left his offices for the day. He had several private clients to visit today, but the most interesting was certainly the first on his list. Rowena Covington. A familiar face was always a nice thing to see and it had certainly made being back in the UK more interesting. Who would have thought the mousy, persistent little girl he'd known all those years would grow up to be such an attractive potential? He'd gathered enough information to understand that her relationship was one of the reasons she was so sad this past week. Well if her boyfriend wanted to make things easier for him, Michael certainly wouldn't stand in his way.

He was strolling down the street towards Rowena's house, briefcase in hand and a satisfied smirk on his face when he thought of how grateful she was going to be soon, when he collided with a rather solid being that hadn't been in his path a moment ago. 

"Scuse me, mate,”

Michael sneered at the man who had crashed into him. You'd think being that tall would enable one to see where they were going better but apparently not. "Watch where you're going next time ok, mate?" he retorted, as he bent down to collect his fallen briefcase, collecting the few papers and documents he'd collected for Rowena that had fallen out. 

 He swore as a gust of wind picked up the light papers and sent the top two flying in the man's direction before he could grab them. 

[Max Kameren]

"Watch where you're going next time ok, mate?"

As much as Max loved Rowena Kensington was undeniably full of wealthy arseholes. Max put his hand up in mock-surrender at the well-pressed passerby’s harsh tone. “Sorry.” Papers were everywhere but even without Empathy his aggression made Max somewhat unwilling to help out. But speaking of Empathy…

While the man crouched Max arched an alarmed brow at him: what was he? He was definitely a wizard, Max could feel it pulsing in the strength of his aura. But that was all he could feel. The man was blank, a clear slate of guards with nothing for Max to pick up on. How was he doing that? Or worse: did he know to do that?

A gust of wind picked up a few of the papers and blew them directly into Max’s shins. Warily he took his eyes off the man to pick them up; he was about to pass them over when a name caught his eye. Rowena.

Instinctively Max reached out roughly and put a warning hand on the man’s shoulder to keep him from moving on. Sharp emerald eyes narrowed and stared at him, through him. Who was this man with the strange aura and paperwork full of Rowena’s personal information? A stranger happening to walk by while his girlfriend was being hunted? His mind flashed momentarily to the dark face of the cannibal man in his mind, blurred by his blood loss. It wasn’t him, he could tell that much.

“Who are you?” Max asked harshly, his free hand finding his wand inside his jacket where it rested, just in case. “What do you want with her? She’s been through enough.”

[Rowena Jones]

The other man grabbed the papers before the wind took them away and was about to pass them over when he paused. Michael sighed impatiently, waiting for him to stop wasting his time. The hand that roughly grabbed his shoulder was not appreciated. "I'd let go of me if I were you," Michael growled softly.

“Who are you?” Max asked harshly. “What do you want with her? She’s been through enough.”

Michael paused. The man was itching for a fight, but there wasn't much they could do in broad daylight in a Muggle neighbourhood. Instead he smirked as he looked at the man, cocking his head to the side in consideration.

"Michael Warcombe, at your service," he said with a mocking nod of his head. The other man's reaction was telling. "And you... you are the boyfriend... unless I'm mistaken?" Michael paused, his own eyes narrowing though there was a glint of amusement within, "Strange that you say that she's been through enough as if I'm the one making her cry to sleep every night. Not complaining though. I should be thanking you really mate. You screwing up has really made it much easier for me."

He grinned amiably, as if they were just having a joke, glancing around at the area around them before chortling.

"Stalking her though?" He added. "Tad pathetic don't you think?"

[Max Kameren]

"I'd let go of me if I were you," Michael growled softly.

“Who are you?” Max asked harshly. His hand stayed where he’d put it originally as he sized him up. “What do you want with her? She’s been through enough.”

"Michael Warcombe, at your service," Max didn’t acknowledge the mocking nod and his emerald stare sharpened. "And you... you are the boyfriend... unless I'm mistaken?"

Max finally let his hand fall from Michael’s shoulder, though his bad hand didn’t move from inside his coat. He set his jaw, his eyes darting around in a silent prayer that Rowena wasn’t meeting him; this wasn’t how he wanted to see her after their fight, staring down some stunted square-shaped wanker in a suit as he mocks him. “What are you, then? Didn’t realize an adoption agency made house calls – “

"Strange that you say that she's been through enough as if I'm the one making her cry to sleep every night. Not complaining though. I should be thanking you really mate. You screwing up has really made it much easier for me."

What did this man think he knew about Rowena’s nights? Max’s temper flared and he instinctively reached out for the other man’s aura but released it as soon as he realized what he was doing; he couldn’t cause trouble, he was already in enough with Rowena without attacking her… agency contact. He refused to label him anything else despite that slimy grin on his face. The Potions Master squared his shoulders and straightened to his full height, looming over the smug bastard with his several extra inches of height.

"Stalking her though?" He added. "Tad pathetic don't you think?"

“I’m not – “ Max stopped himself and glared, gesturing up at the clinic behind him. He didn’t owe him an explanation, but he also didn’t want him telling Rowena he was hanging around her neighborhood. “Can’t help where my doctor’s office is, can I?”

He hated this. This was something his mum would punch him in the arm for: stupid posturing, sizing each other up over Rowena like she was a cut of prime rib and not a person. ¬The prick was baiting him though, and it was hard for Max to resist. “What are you, then? Forgive me if I don’t believe your idiotic posturing, but I don’t think you’re her type.”

Well, actually, he was definitely more her type from what he’d heard from off-hand comments about James. Max was more the deviation. That wasn’t any of this codger’s business, though. “My and Rowena’s business is just that – ours. Help her with her family and back off.” Max pushed himself back a step as if to illustrate his point, his cold green eyes still warning. He was entirely sure that Mr. Warcombe would do the opposite.

[Rowena Jones]

"Stalking her though?" Michael added. "Tad pathetic don't you think?"

“I’m not – “ The 'boyfriend' stopped himself and glared at Michael whose smug smirk only grew as the other man gestured up at the clinic behind him. “Can’t help where my doctor’s office is, can I?”

"Mmm, convenient. Because there's no other Psychical Therapists that aren't next door to Rowena's house..." Michael said knowingly. "Shame about that hand, looks nasty. Rabid dog?" If only it had finished the job, he thought nastily, moving as if he was going to leave. He would much rather be giving Rowena the good news than dealing with her idiot of a boyfriend. Really, what had she seen in the man?

“What are you, then? Forgive me if I don’t believe your idiotic posturing, but I don’t think you’re her type.”

At that sentence, Michael really couldn't help himself. "I'm not her type? That's rich coming from someone who looks like you. I mean, come on, have you seen yourself? Rowena needs someone with a little more class, dont you think? And maybe someone with all of his fingers?"

“My and Rowena’s business is just that – ours. Help her with her family and back off.”

The other man stepped back, and Michael walked forward into the newly vacated spot. "No. Rowie and I go way back. I knew her as a child and I rather like the woman she's become. A little weepy now sure, but I'm sure I can fix that right up. And I, at least, am able to help her. Where have you been while she's been looking for her family, while she's been mourning her parents? So if anyone should back off and scuttle back to whichever homeless shelter you belong to, it should be you."

[Max Kameren]

At that sentence, Michael really couldn't help himself. "I'm not her type? That's rich coming from someone who looks like you. I mean, come on, have you seen yourself? Rowena needs someone with a little more class, dont you think? And maybe someone with all of his fingers?"

“I can promise you I can do more with nine fingers than you’ve ever dreamed of doing with ten,” Max snapped back immediately, barreling through while trying to ignore the implied innuendo of the statement. None of this was any of this man’s business; it frustrated him how this man got under his skin so easily. It frustrated him more that he couldn’t figure out how to crack through his aura and read him more easily. “My and Rowena’s business is just that – ours. Help her with her family and back off.”

When Max stepped back Michael filled the space he’d created and stepped closer into Max’s space. "No. Rowie and I go way back. I knew her as a child and I rather like the woman she's become. A little weepy now sure, but I'm sure I can fix that right up.”

Rowie. The nickname made Max want to retch. It didn’t even make sense! Where did the ‘ie’ come from?! The tone he took made Max feel sick even without empathy; he was predatory, the way he talked about Rowena like he was stealing her in a game gave Max all the more reason to dislike him.

“And I, at least, am able to help her. Where have you been while she's been looking for her family, while she's been mourning her parents? So if anyone should back off and scuttle back to whichever homeless shelter you belong to, it should be you."

“And when I need advice from a creepy Moss Brothers mannequin-reject I will be sure to give you a call.” It was always the blighters with patchy, unfortunate jawline-only beards who came for his facial hair the most. Possibly a jealousy thing, he mused. Either way Max didn’t need to explain his attack and hospital stay to this man, again it was none of his business. One thing he did know was that he didn’t need his missing ring finger for the rude gesture he flashed in the prick’s direction before he turned off, starting down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment.

[Rowena Jones]

Rowena was running. It was not something she'd ever thought she'd be doing, never having being a very active person beyond horse-riding, but regardless she was doing it. It had started the week Max had been in hospital. She'd had so much pent up restless energy, a need to be doing something that she'd suddenly found herself putting on her rarely used trainers and jogging to Hyde Park. And then she'd kept going, running around the park until her face was red, her clothes soaked through with sweat and she could barely breathe. She'd felt like she'd been running for forever, must have at least run several kilometers. The reality had been extremely embarrassing but it had felt good regardless. And she'd done it the next day and the next.

Two weeks later with a torrent of mixed emotions still very much present inside her, she was still going out every day in an attempt to distract her from her thoughts. Some days she would only jog, or even just walk around the park, letting the chilled air and background sounds divert her endless spiral into despair. Her parents gone. No leads whatsoever on her birth parents. Four days since she'd last spoken to Max. Four days since she'd walked out and he'd sent her one measly letter filled with lies. And granted she'd shut that letter down, but he hadn't tried to call her once. She'd been watching her phone closely enough, wishing it to ring desperately so she could... do something. Rowena still wasn't sure what she would do if Max ever did reach out to her.

But Max had been silent and it had only confirmed what she suspected. He didn't really love her. More likely was that their combined pleasure and enjoyment when they were together, mixed with the high emotions brought on by what they'd been through had confused him. Made him believe he loved her. And now, with the distance she had put between them, he was realising the truth.

Which left her utterly alone. Well no, not completely. Elle had been wonderful, though Rowena remained rather embarrassed about how utterly drunk she'd gotten that night after the fight. And then biggest surprise of all, Michael had returned to her life. It still felt like such a huge coincidence, but he'd been so charming and reminded her so much of good times past that she hadn't wanted to question it. She was so tired of losing everything that the possibility of regaining just a little part of some happiness had been too tempting to pass on. And he'd been so supportive, promising to help her find her birth family when she'd been about to give up. It had been a lifeline in a sea of darkness.

A shrill beeping on her phone had her slowing and she glanced at the screen, cursing quietly as she saw what it was telling her. Michael was supposed to be meeting her at her home now. He'd said he had good news! A lead, Rowena thought, please let it be a lead to her birth parents. She needed something to give her life meaning. Without her mother to cure, without a department to run, she'd been left floating. And it didn't feel right researching Max's Empathy when they were on such rocky ground. It was personal and she didn't know if she still had the right to pry into it. Which had only left her past which she desperately hoped would help shed more light onto the information Alex had shared with her. 

She turned off the path cutting across the grass towards the Southern Gate and home. She hoped he wouldn't mind too much that she was a bit of a sweaty mess. Though Michael had expressed his preference that one should take proper care of one's appearance, and Rowena had agreed with that once upon a time, she'd found herself less bothered about it these days. And really it wasn't as if she was wearing pyjamas or that she looked like a complete slob. 

At least she wasn't bothered by it until she ran past a familiar tall Potions Master and her heart stopped as she glanced over her shoulder in shock. It couldn't be. Why would Max be in Kensington?! And then she wasn't doing much thinking at all as she tripped over the edge of the pavement and fell into the road, too distracted by the unexpected sight of her boyfriend to pay attention to where she put her feet. 

[Rowena Jones]

"And when I need advice from a creepy Moss Brothers mannequin-reject I will be sure to give you a call."

"Yes, well I'm not sure any amount advice would be enough to help you," Michael drawled,"I'll be sure to pass on your regards to Rowena shall I?"

The man's uncivilised response had Michael shaking his head in amused disdain. He cast a last look at Rowena's boyfriend as he walked away, when he saw Rowena herself running towards them, sweat shining on her brow, her amber eyes shining brightly from the exercise. He frowned. She was supposed to be waiting for him at her home, he would have already been there if it wasn't for her uncouth choice of a partner. Had she really been about to leave him waiting for her? Couldn't she keep track of the time like any normal respectable person?

That upsetting train of thought was interrupted as she forgot to look where she was going, caught up in the unpleasant sight of her boyfriend no doubt. That mess on his face, not to mention that awful beard, was enough to distract anyone Michael supposed. But then Rowena was falling into danger and Michael darted forward, grabbing her and pulling her from the road and into his arms just as a red bus hurtled past. Loud clapping sounded around them as several members of the public praised his rapid reflexes that had surely just saved the poor woman from much more serious injury. He smiled gracefully at the Muggles around him before returning his attention to Rowena.

His arms were wrapped around her, holding her close for a second until he pulled back so that he could look over her in concern.

"Rowie? Are you ok? Thank goodness I was here," He glanced down at her knees which were scraped and bleeding before taking her hands that had helped her break her fall. They too were raw and red, nothing a simple spell wouldn't fix, but they couldn't do it here, in the open. "I'll take you home,"

[Max Kameren]

Max whipped out his phone as he walked away with a scowl. Merlin only knew what well-quaffed pustule was doing hanging around his girlfriend, but Max was tired of getting the runaround from her. He wanted - needed to talk to her, preferably as far away from Michael as he could get her. He’d brought up her number and was about to press call when he glanced up and locked with a familiar pair of amber eyes.

“Ro?” Max froze in his tracks and turned with her as Rowena passed by him, gripping his phone when he nearly dropped it with the shock. He felt the jolt of her surprise too through her aura as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Ro!” He jumped forward as she tripped and reached out as she fell, wincing and scrambling forward.

But, naturally, Michael was right there first. He pulled Rowena up in the nick of time to applause from passersby and Max skidded to a stop in front of them, arching an irritated brow as Michael wrapped himself around her, obscuring her condition from his view. Jealousy snaked through him like static electricity and it was miserable; Max wasn’t usually a jealous person, but after four days of trying to get in contact with her Max was feeling a lot of things at the sight of her. “Are you alright?”

"Rowie? Are you ok? Thank goodness I was here," Max visibly cringed at the Rowie again. The idiot between them bore down and made himself a wall between Max and Rowena and it was wearing on his patience; there were two healers present and Michael seemed to think he knew what was best. "I'll take you home.”

whirrrrr, whirrrrr, whirrrrr….

A pause in the commotion left a moment for Max’s cellphone to sing. He looked down with surprise to see he’d accidentally hit send when Rowena fell and his phone had been ringing in his hand this entire time. His brow furrowed as the call continued. He glanced up at Rowena: no buzz, no ring, nothing. A pang of hurt went through him; he’d gathered she didn’t want to talk by all the missed calls, but had she blocked him entirely? He stopped the call and met her eyes with pained confusion as Michael tried to usher her away.

[Rowena Jones]

Michael’s arms around her felt all wrong and she squirmed under his observation. Why was he even here? Oh Merlin had he met Max? “Michael, it’s just a few scrapes. I’m fine,” Rowena said quietly, trying to reassure him with a smile she didn’t feel like making. She might have been acting like an emotional child these past few days but she wasn’t the eight-year-old from his past. “Thanks for helping, but you can let go now.” There was only one person she wanted holding her like that and he just so happened to be right there. Not that she supposed he would be doing much of that anymore.

She stepped back, ignoring Michael’s fussing, just wanting to see Max, just see him again and take in those piercing green eyes once more. Her heart ached in her chest, a deep dull throb that caused her actual pain, more than any stinging scrapes on her palms and knees ever could. He was here. Why? And why was he looking at her like that?! Rowena glanced at the phone in his hand and suddenly her confused happiness at seeing him soured. So he hadn’t lost it. A small part of her had hoped, it would at least have given him somewhat a reason not to have called her.

Emotion bubbled up inside her and she glared back at him, hurt shining brightly in her amber gaze. “So you do still have a phone,” she noted snidely. “Shame that you seem to have forgotten how to use it.”

To her horror, tears flooded her eyes but she made herself look at him accusingly. Let him see what he did to her. When she thought of the past few nights where she’d lay on her bed, just staring at the screen, hoping it would light up… When she thought of the mornings where the disappointment hit her like a punch to the stomach when she realised it was another day with no attempt at reconciliation… How dare he look at her like she was the one who’d hurt him! He was the one with secrets and lies, not her!

But then she didn’t really know what she’d been expecting. For him to chase after her? Even without the fact that he’d just been released from hospital, she’d never gotten the impression that Max was the kind of person to do such a thing. But damnit, he could have at least tried to call!

Would she possibly have yelled at him and hung up? Maybe. Probably. But at least she would have known that he still cared. She could have possibly gotten the nerve to go and talk to him if she’d known that. But the silence had been too telling and hurtful. One measly crappy letter full of bullshit did not an attempt at reconciliation make. And none of that explained why he was here of all places, two minutes down the street from her house. “What are you even doing here?” she asked sadly.

[Max Kameren]

“Michael, it’s just a few scrapes. I’m fine,” Rowena said quietly, but Max couldn’t help the small smile that came over him when he heard her defiant tone. That was the sharp, irritated demeanor of the woman he loved. It was a comfort to hear. “Thanks for helping, but you can let go now.”

whirrrrr, whirrrrr, whirrrrr…. The phone continued in Max’s hand as Rowena stepped away from her despicable would-be suitor. She met his pain and confusion with frustration and accusation, his cooling aura steaming in reaction with her white-hot one in his head. His sharp emerald eyes looked Rowena over until his eyes settled on the rectangular object strapped to her arm; he wasn’t mistaken, she did have her phone on her. It just didn’t ring. “Did you – “

“So you do still have a phone,” she noted snidely. “Shame that you seem to have forgotten how to use it.”

Max’s brow furrowed in further confusion as he ended the ringing. He stepped closer with concern as her eyes welled up with tears and he lifted his hands to touch her before sheepishly letting them drop; he wanted to touch her, but didn’t know if she wanted him to. God he wished fucking Michael wasn’t looming over them right now…

“Ro, what are you talking about? I’ve been calling you all week.” He caught the spike of angry skepticism at his claim radiate off of her and he opened his phone, handing it over to her. “I’m not lying! Here. Something’s wrong with your phone.” In Max’s list of calls there were seven to Rowena’s number: one the night after they fought, and two each day since.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Physical therapy.” Max gestured behind them to the doctor’s office, shifting awkwardly. He pulled at his mangled ear absently, fidgeting in his anxiousness. “And, y’know…” He shrugged, as if it was obvious why he chose this particular Physical Therapist. “You.”

[Rowena Jones]

“So you do still have a phone,” she noted snidely. “Shame that you seem to have forgotten how to use it.”

Rowena frowned up at Max as he stepped closer, staring at him through the shimmer of tears that welled up in her mix of anger, confusion and sadness. She stepped back a step, shaking her head as her head warned her not to get to close to him. Her heart would surely throw all her anger to the wind if he got close enough. She'd forget why she was so upset and throw herself in to his arms and she couldn't do that. Instead her small retreat took her closer to Michael and she felt his arm drape over her shoulder.

She was sure he was doing it in an attempt at comfort but she couldn't spare him a thought, her entire being caught up in Max.

“Ro, what are you talking about? I’ve been calling you all week.” 

Rowena glared at him furiously. No he hadn't! She'd been waiting! She'd have seen it! Would have answered in a heartbeat if only to hear his voice for one second before yelling at him. She felt Michael try to pull her away, half listened to him as he whispered that she didn't need to listen to this. That they should go and take care of her cuts rather than listen to his excuses. For a second she was tempted, fed up of his constant lying but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that he was telling her the truth in this at least. 

“I’m not lying! Here. Something’s wrong with your phone.”

And then he was handing his phone to her and she had the proof that he had been calling her all along.  Her anger left her in an instant. She forgot to breathe and the world seemed to stop as she saw those outgoing calls. She frantically checked the number he'd saved under her name. He'd been calling her. He still cared. But why hadn't she gotten them... Rowena frowned, taking her own phone in her hands and checking it. Nothing. Her phone was telling her that he hadn't called, his was saying he had. 

"I don't understand..." she muttered as she pulled up her contacts list. She scrolled down to where Max's name should be and found it missing. What? It was too confusing. Rowena didn't know what to do with this new revelation. And it still didn't explain what Max was doing in her neighbourhood. Thoroughly perplexed at the mystery of the phone, she chose to focus on the other question.

“What are you even doing here?”

“Physical therapy.” Max gestured behind them to the doctor’s office, shifting awkwardly. “And, y’know…” He shrugged. “You.”

Max had always been able to make her feel things no one else could, but that moment was what she rather imagined his telling her he loved her would have felt in different circumstances. Fireworks went off in her chest at his admission, her heart celebrating even as her mind protested. Was it a little weird? Maybe, but she'd not stopped thinking about him those past four days. In anger and sadness mostly, but he'd never been far from her mind. Max Kameren had weaved himself into her life and her heart and in her desperate attempts to take it slow, she'd convinced herself that he hadn't. She still wasn't sure what exactly she'd call her feelings for Max, or perhaps was still too scared to name them, but they greatly overshadowed anything she'd felt before, way more than anything she'd felt for James and she'd lived with that man for several years. 

And yet in that moment of realisation, her mind panicked. The rollercoaster she was on was too quick, too twisty turny and she handed Max his phone back, shaking her head again as fresh tears spilled out this time. It didn't matter how her heart felt, maybe there was just too much against them. Their fight was still fresh in her mind, their angry emotions sparking off each other, the issues that still needed to be addressed. She turned away from Max, and it was so so hard to instead look at Michael and ask him to take her home, but she did it, leaving her heart and boyfriend behind her. 

[Max Kameren]

As Rowena inspected their phones side-by-side Max straightened and levied a hard stare at Michael; after the display he’d seen earlier, he was fairly sure he had a good understanding of how his number had disappeared from her phone. His gaze diverted back to Rowena with a disturbed pulse of her aura and she asked him a new question: “What are you even doing here?”

“Physical therapy.” Max gestured behind them to the doctor’s office, shifting awkwardly. “And, y’know…” He shrugged. “You.”

A surge of emotion seemed to run through Max like a torrent and he held his breath, looking down at Rowena in surprise. He felt that little tether from him to her, so tenuous in these difficult days since their fight, embolden itself and weave itself back around. For a brief moment they felt shiny and gold in his mind, perfect like they could have been if this had been able to happen without their baggage. He wished they could have done it that way, to reach this place organically at the pace they’d set. Thinking back now to their first fight, Max wished it was still so easy; he wished Rowena’s life was intact enough that he could attend her parents’ party.

He was just happy to finally get a glimpse of confirmation that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t pushing himself over a cliff; for now, that was all he needed. She was with him.

In one way, at least. The emotion quickly twisted into panic and she reeled back when he tried to close the space between them. She shook her head and her pain severed their tethers; Max grasped for the fading mutual feelings as they fell away and Rowena turned away. She asked Michael to take her home and his blank, looming aura overtook the wisps of what remained between them as they retreated.

Max felt like a boat with no sail. He stood, shoulders slumped, until they disappeared around the corner Rowena’s townhome was on. With a labored sigh he finally relented, turning on his heel and heading on foot for home.