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wardenparker · 6 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 8

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 16.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Thigh grinding/frottage, dirty talk, content is sexy. Gaslighting, panic attack, meltdown, trauma responses, family secrets. Summary: While the night after your date is unexpectedly wonderful, an unexpected visitor ruins a lot more than just your morning. And from there things seem to be getting more complicated before they can get better. Notes: As usual, I apologize for any errors that I might have missed. There is a LOT happening in this chapter. Right from the top there is a lot to digest, and there are some big BIG things happening as the plot ramps up! This chapter, I present to you: the Green Salon 💚

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

Your fingers grip his shoulder the moment his lips meet yours, with sparks igniting under your fingertips and behind your eyes as soon as they fall shut. It feels like the ultimate irony, as one seemingly small kiss from a vampire breathes life into you in a way you can't describe but has you pressing closer in his arms and silently begging for more.

Max kept it light on purpose, knowing that you might push him away after the first press of his lips, but he can’t help the warmth that spreads through his body. The flash of rioting sensations as the loud, hard pound of his heart seems to echo in his chest. A heartbeat. That seeming myth where his dormant muscle springs to life and makes him gasp into your mouth.

The sharp, unexpected reaction from him has you feeling backward and breaking the kiss, searching his face for what went wrong. “Are you—I mean, did you not—?” You ask, brow furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

Max’s eyes are wide, glazed over and nearly black with surprise and desire mixed together. “It’s true.” He rushes out, almost breathless even though he has no need to draw breath. “The myth, I felt it. Queenie, my heart thumped.” It’s hard to explain how that could feel to a vampire, but it was blissful. Like being reconnected to an old memory.

“I—it beat?” Your eyes flick down to his chest immediately as though you could see it but what you truly want is to feel it.

“It did.” He practically giggles the confirmation, feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Do all soulmate kisses feel this way? “I thought it was bullshit, but it’s true.”

“Do you want to see if it will happen again?” As overjoyed as he is at the sensation, you will admit…maybe that heartbeat that he felt was the one that your heart skipped.

“If it happens again, I can see kissing you every chance I get.” He admits with a small grin.

“Then I hope it happens again.” Because you dearly want to kiss him again, feeling a wave of bliss and relaxation flood your body at the reality of your soulmate being the one to share these moments with you now.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Max asks as he leans in again. Anticipating that thump and at the last second, he grabs your hand and puts it over his heart.

This time you’re the one who gasps, practically jumping out of the bed when you feel the startlingly solid pump of that long-disused muscle in Max’s chest.

He laughs when your lips break apart from his, eyes nearly sparkling with joy. “I never—” he laughs again. “I never thought I would ever feel that again.”

“That’s incredible.” Both of you are staring at each other with wide eyes, shocked to the point of nearly giggling. “That’s absolutely incredible!”

“I don’t know— I can’t believe it was true.” He reaches out and cups your cheek. “You’re amazing.” He gushes. “You literally make my heart pound.”

“That’s not me,” you remind him sheepishly, feeling the praise is far too much for little, lowly you. “That’s just the soulmate connection.”

“It is you.” He insists. “You are my soulmate, so it’s you doing this.”

“It’s both of us.” The last thing you want is for him to get upset for any reason, so you’ll give an inch rather than anyone having to go a mile. Besides, you would do anything to keep that smile on his face. “And it seems like…It happens every time?”

“I think it does.” Max admits, caressing your cheek. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing at all. Could get addicted to kissing you without that perk.”

“Yeah?” It would upset him to hear but you would have understood if that was the only reason he enjoyed kissing you. To hear that it’s not is almost a miracle.

“Yeah.” He brushes his nose against yours and barely brushes his lips against yours. The thud isn’t huge, but he feels his heart jolt slightly. “But I want to make sure you’re addicted too.”

“That really isn’t something you have to worry about.” The second he was pressed against you, you knew that you never wanted to be anywhere else again.

“Why is that?” He asks, deciding to kiss along your jaw to see if it has the same effect.

Whether or not it’s making his heart beat, yours is skittering out of time as his mouth makes its way across your skin. “Because—” You shiver when he presses a kiss over your pulse and swallow a ragged breath. “I already am.”

“Yeah?” He grins against your skin and growls slightly. “So glad to hear that, Queenie.”

“Gods—why is that so sexy?” Overwhelmed by the feeling of him half covering you and drowning in the sensations of desire and pleasure, the question just slips out with no filter at all. Your mind is far too concentrated on mapping the contours of his arms, back, and shoulders to even think about what you’re saying.

“Primal reaction.” He grunts, enjoying the way you are melting against him. “If I scrape my fangs over your pulse, you’ll shiver and your little pussy will clench in reactive fear that your body perceives as pleasure. Tickles that cavewoman instinct to be with the strongest.”

“I guess I’m a cavewoman, then.” You know he would never put you in danger. You’ve talked about it very seriously. He would never drink from you or anything like that without another long discussion and explicit, enthusiastic consent. But…he does have a point. The animalistic side of you knows that he is much stronger and much more capable than any human man.

“Rawr.” He teases playfully, grinning at you.

His playful side is so carefully hidden from the rest of the world that you can’t help the way it makes the smile spread wide on your face when he shows it to just you. As if you were as much a safe haven for him as he is becoming for you. “You’re…” One of your hands drifts along his shoulder, fingers stretching to glide over his jaw, and you giggle softly in the dim light of your room. “You’re amazing. I hope you know that.”

“Long as you think so.” He doesn’t think so, despite his outward personality. “All that matters.” His lips touch every bit of skin you show him. Careful not to go beneath your clothes but he maps every inch.

It feels worshipful, and Max never pushes. He never takes advantage of your clothes shifting or lets his hands wander anywhere salacious. He is the picture of a gentleman as the two of you lay side-by-side tasting and touching every visible inch of each other.

He’s never spent much time making out. Most of the time it progresses on to other things, but he wants to take his time. You trust him and he doesn’t want to betray that.

If you were even the least bit tired before, you certainly aren’t now. Right now you’re aching. Doing everything you can not to writhe beside him as your body clearly wants to take things further but your mind just isn’t ready for the utter vulnerability that is sex. You have been just as careful to keep your hands in respectable place as he has, but your breathing has gone shallow and your heart beat has sped up, setting your entire body on fire.

“It’s okay.” Max croons. “I know what you need. Just let me make you feel good.” He doesn’t do anything more than shift a knee between your legs, pressing it down into the mattress and lets it anchor you to him more. You can grind down on him if you want, or ignore it. It’s up to you as he slowly kisses at your pulse again and again.

The unholy whimper that that draws from you is so much louder than you had anticipated, and you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so distracted by how perfect the pressure now is. His broad, muscled body looms over you like living protective armor and your hands shift when he moves so that one of them slips under his shirt by accident. A breathless apology comes right before your thighs clench down on his leg, and you instinctually shiver again at how good it feels.

“You can touch me, sweetheart.” He promises, growling again at how hot your hand is on his skin. “You can do whatever you want to me, with me. You tell me what you want.” Max has never been this selfless, but there’s something about you that makes him want to protect you - even from himself - while simultaneously giving you everything that you need.

“Want to make you feel good.” Without the pressure of demand for your attention, there is nothing more that you want than to give it freely to someone who cares about you. Who is sweet to you. Who values who you are, not what you can provide to him.

“Feel amazing, so….mission accomplished.” He chuckles against your throat and bites at it playfully, making sure that his fangs aren’t exposed. “Never felt this good before.”

“Can I…?” The question drifts off even though your fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt eagerly.

“You want my shirt off, sweetheart?” He pulls back to look into your eyes. Wanting to see them. “Or do you just want to touch me under it?”

“Can I take it off?” Surprised at your own boldness, you swallow again and try to catch a deep breath. But that’s very hard to do with his knee pressed determinedly against your throbbing pussy.

“Of course you can.” His grin is positively wicked and he eagerly allows you to pull the worn, soft fabric up and over his head. Hovering over you as it drags down his arms, and he hooks it out of your hand and tosses it aside onto the floor to be forgotten.

For a few long seconds it feels like all you can do is stare. He is sculpted like a statue and you can’t imagine how soulmates are assigned but in this moment you’re absolutely certain that there must be some kind of rule about physical attractiveness. Otherwise you can’t possibly fathom how you got a soulmate who is so fucking hot. “Fuck…” Even just one word, breathed out in disbelief, perfectly encapsulates how you feel right now.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He teases you with a wink. “If I give it up too soon, you might not respect me.”

“S’not what I meant,” you grumble, tentatively running one hand down the length of his chest and torso, noting every muscle along the way and the softness that guards them beneath his skin. “Just…can’t believe you’re actually real.”

“I know.” He feels bad for teasing you, shuddering at the way your hand caresses him. “I’m real, Queenie. All yours too.”

“That’s the most unbelievable part.” But the reassurance flips some sort of switch inside you, and you surge up to kiss him again with such ferocity that it drives your core down against his leg and you moan as his tongue licks into your mouth with the open, panting kiss.

When you take charge of the kiss, his heart gallops in his chest. Seemingly knocking against his ribs as he gives it back, his tongue starting to map your mouth while your hands trace the lines of his back.

The overwhelming combination of sensations is going to make you short circuit before long, you can feel it. The angle his thigh is at between yours is pressing the seam of your yoga pants against your clit and probably making it completely obvious how wet you are for him, but you can’t bring yourself to even feel the least bit bad about it. This is exactly what you didn’t know you wanted tonight and you’re never going to forget a second of it.

“It’s so good, sweetheart.” He groans, kissing down your jaw again. “So damn sweet for me. So sweet. Rub that little pussy against my thigh, baby.”

“Gods.” Another moan escapes you, muted as you gulp down air in heavy gasps. “Should‘be known you’d have a filthy mouth.”

“Of course I have a filthy mouth.” He hums. “As long as you like it.”

“It’s—” With a mind of their own, your hips roll downward and make you gasp in pleasure. “It’s brand new to me,” you admit, fingers digging into his side to hold him close. “But I like it.”

“I say anything you don’t like, you just tell me, sweetheart.” He tells you.

“I promise.” For now your entire mind is focused on the blinding pleasure building between your legs and wondering if you should try to reciprocate during or after.

“Thought about how you would taste like.” He confess as his tongue pulls back from your pulse. “But you’re so much sweeter. Making me wonder how you taste everywhere.”

“You—” Feeling like a deer caught in particularly strong headlights when you reel back to look up at him in surprise. “You…like…doing that?”

He smirks, looking up and you with a salacious wink. “Sweetheart, pussy is raw.” He reminds you playfully. “Anytime, I’ll bury my tongue inside you. Especially during that time. Love it.”

“I never even thought of that.” And now you feel like an utter idiot for not having it occur to you right away.

“Why would you think like that?” He asks, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours again and pressing his thigh against your clit harder.

“Can’t think at all right now,” you admit, letting the next moan he rips out of you roll through your body like a tidal wave.

“Good.” He chuckles, the sound filthy. “You’re in good hands. I’ll take care of you.”

As much as you may have doubted plenty of other things in your life, you haven’t had any reason to doubt that, and you tip your head to one side to let him explore as far down your neck as he can. “I’ll return the favor,” you promise him readily, knowing that he’s been fully hard in those sweatpants for ages now.

“Don’t worry about that.” The last thing he wants is for you to feel pressured to reciprocate anything. This is about wanting to touch you, make you feel good. It’s not a tit for tat situation. He nibbles on your collarbone and rolls his leg forward again.

“But—” The rest of your thought get washed away on a gasp and your hands squeeze his sides again as you shiver. If he keeps that up, it really won’t take long at all before you fall apart.

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart.” He urges you, smirking when he can feel your entire body start to tense up. “Cum for me.”

Taking his encouragement as permission, your hips roll as if they have a mind of their own, and moments later you fingernails are digging into his shoulder blades while you desperately try to stifle what would otherwise be a very loud moan. You know your yoga pants are soaked the second you start to cum, and that he’ll be able to feel the sticky heat through his sweatpants as well, but you just can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he can make you feel this good without even using his hands.

Max is throbbing with need. Very aware that his cock has soaked the front of his sweats, but he ignores that. Too focused on the feeling of your entire body stiffening under him and the sound of your pulse pounding like your heart is going to beat out of your chest as you give him the sweetest cry.

“So I can start your heart, and you can stop mine,” you huff, working to get your breath back when the starbursts stop exploded behind your eyes and you can open them again to find him smiling down at you.

“Looks like.” He teases drolly, thoroughly amused by the breathless, blissful expression on your face. Dropping down to one elbow to press his lips to yours in the softest of kisses.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to…?” You can feel him throb heavily against your hip, but you’re going to respect him like he respects you. No means no, if that is what he decides.

“I’m good, I promise.” He nudges his nose against yours too. “This was for you, sweetheart.” It’s not that he doesn’t want you to touch him, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to. “We’ll get there, I know we will.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Stealing a kiss from Max’s lips is just about the sweetest feeling in the world, and your hands graze softly over his back as you nuzzle into his side.

After he had rolled to his side, he had opened his arms for you to curl into him. Loving how easily you do. His arm folds around you and he hums with absolute pleasure as your chest presses to his bare one and he can feel your heartbeat on his body.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” You murmur again, this time at a whisper as you place a kiss over his heart.

“I can’t believe you are here.” He confesses softly, holding you securely against his body. The hour is late and he can feel the exhaustion starting to settle in your bones after the adrenaline starts to wear off. “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe while you sleep.”

******

Dreams are frequent and fast that night, though nothing unsettles or worries you. Not even an anxiety dream about Max not being there in the morning, as if even your unsteady subconscious could fathom the thought. There is no knock from Renee like usual, no tray brought up so you can laze through a formal breakfast with your undead housemates. What wakes you instead is the sun, and right afterward the soft brush of Max’s knuckles on your shoulder.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Even though he had not fallen asleep, his voice is still a little raspy from disuse. Watching you slowly start to rise from your slumber is a privilege and he wonders if you realize how gorgeous you are sleep tousled.

“Morning.” A small stretch doesn’t take you from his arms, which is good because that’s exactly where you want to stay. Instead you peak up at him from between your lashes and grin. He obviously hasn’t slept, but that doesn’t keep him from looking every bit as handsome as ever. Instead of saying that, though, you reach up to scratch at the base of his scalp and murmur, “Cutie,” as though it were the highest compliment on earth.

“Yeah?” He nearly purrs as he feels your fingers scratch against his scalp. “I try my best.”

“Did you watch me sleep for long?” There is no way he could have gotten out of bed and gotten back in this same position, so you can only assume that he watched you sleep or read one of the books on your side table.

“All night.” He admits with a grin, cracking one eye open at you. “Although we don’t sleep, we do rest. I feel like I’m the most well rested vampire on the planet.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Stretching again, you smother a yawn and make sure to keep your morning breath away from his keen sense of smell. “How long until you have to leave for work?”

“Decided to take the day off.” He admits with a less than guilty shrug. “I have PTO they’ve been wanting me to take.”

That makes you sit up, eyes widening in surprise. “You took a day off?” A perpetual workaholic, you’ve never see Max go a single day without putting in at least a few hours’ work. Even when it was just reading up on clients in the library at home.

“Should I not have?” He asks with a small frown. He had thought you would enjoy the gesture, but maybe you had plans.

“No, I’m just surprised.” Instinctively, you lean in to smooth the crease out of his forehead with a kiss. “I was going to have brunch with Allison today, but that was the only thing I had planned.”

“Go to brunch.” He insists immediately. “Don’t let me interrupt your plans. I don’t want to do that. I just—” Honestly he doesn’t know why he chose to take today off, but he felt like he should. Like something was compelling him to stay close.

“She was just going to come to the house,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to feel like he made a bad decision by staying home. “For that matter, she’s probably still in Eddie’s room. We didn’t have any grand plans. Just Mrs. Taylor’s amazing cooking.”

“In your little tea house?” He smirks slightly, knowing how much you love that little room. Even though it might be a little chilly today, it would still be lovely. “I can start the fire if you want.” He offers. “Warm it up.”

“Setting a fire for me is very primal provider of you.” A small giggle escapes. You feel so relaxed this morning that you could practically fly. “Trying to scratch that cavewoman instinct again?”

“Trying to make sure my soulmate is nice and warm.” He hums, winking at you. “I like curling into your warmth, sweetheart.”

“Ah, so it’s a purely selfish gesture?” Teasing him this morning is so easy, and you laugh before leaning in again to kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be able to hear everything we say even from inside the house, but I will be giggling about last night the whole time.”

“You know…” he leans in and kisses your nose playfully. “I only want to hear good things. But I was thinking about your tea house.”

“What about it?” He knows how much you love spending time out there. And how you have adopted it as your own sort of outdoor sitting room. As soon as Eddie had helped you furnish it to your own taste, it became one of your favourite places.

“What if we have that stove taken out, and a fireplace put in?” He ask seriously, wondering what you think about that. “That way you could have a cozy fire, do witchy things if you wanted. Give it that…vibe.”

“Do you think that could even be done?” Not really knowing much about construction or how home improvements get done, it hadn’t occurred to you to remodel at any point. But the idea of a fireplace in your little hideaway sounds positively witchy and fantastic.

“Absolutely.” He has already run it by Mr. Taylor to be certain, and had been reassured that the modification could actually be done rather easily. “The wall with the stove could be a stone hearth. As big or as small as you could wish.” There’s already a fireplace in your bedroom and he nods towards it. “Something like that, or something from a medieval cottage with a bubbling cauldron.”

“I think medieval cottage with a cauldron is on the same spectrum as goth Disney Princess, isn’t it?” He is so utterly sweet, and so tentative, you burrow into his side again instead of getting up like you were starting to. “You really are wonderful, you know. Even if you don’t believe me yet.”

He doesn’t believe you, because he’s not wonderful. He’s selfish and a prick. “You wouldn’t think so if you had met me before.” He admits quietly. The Max he had been when he was trying to get revenge on Evan would have repulsed you, and he doesn’t even know if he would have cared back then. Eddie’s influence, being here, has changed him more than he had originally believed.

“Then maybe it’s okay that we didn’t meet until now.” The lives that you’ve led in the last ten years have made you into drastically different people than you were in college. You know that. He knows that, too. “Maybe the people we were then would have fallen in love just fine. But the people we are now…” Realizing what you just said, and how easily you said it, your mouth clamps shut out of fear and you sink back down under the mattress without another word or even sound coming out of your mouth. You definitely should not have phrased it like that…

“But the people we are now might have needed a little push?” He asks, completing the statement to what his own thoughts were. “I think you’re right, Queenie.”

“Right.” You were going to say that the people you are now seem to be doing just fine on your own, but he seems to think that it wasn’t as easy as all that, and you’re glad that you hit your big, stupid mouth in time. Don’t rush. No pressure. You remind yourself of the mantra in your head with an internal sigh. “I…um…I should shower.”

“Wait….” He can sense he said something wrong, or maybe you aren’t on the same page. “You don’t think so?” He asks quietly. “I think this has been a little push for us. Pushing us together in this house. He planned it. He had to have.”

“I still don’t really know who he is.” Everyone talks about Max’s sire like he’s some sort of mysterious Old God or something and you don’t know what to make of it. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me. Whatever else is going on, I’m glad we’re getting along and that…that last night was as wonderful as it was.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you.” He frowns at the mere thought and his hold on you reflexively tightens on your body. “Never.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you, either.” Despite whatever he might think.

“Good.” He will accept that. “Now, do you still want to shower?”

“I do. I mean…I should.” After all, you did fall asleep without cleaning yourself up last night. You’re sure you still smell like sex.

“Orrrrrr.” Max pokes his lower lip out and pouts slightly. “We could pretend it’s still dark outside.”

“Did you have something in mind?” His arms are tight around you and there isn’t necessarily any reason to get up yet. After all, the clock on the mantle only reads nine in the morning.

“Just….enjoying holding you. But you might be hungry.” He realizes. “Are you hungry?”

He looks so sweetly earnest this morning and your stomach isn’t rumbling yet, so you offer him a smile. “I could be persuaded to exist on kisses if you don’t mind letting me up to brush my teeth.”

“Do you want me to brush my teeth too?” He asks with a smirk as you cover your mouth as if the smell would offend him.

“Only if you want to.” As much as you duck out of sight, his smile makes you smile, too. “I know your sense of smell is stronger than mine. It doesn’t bother me at all but I thought it would bother you.”

“What, naaaaaahhhhhh.” He tuts, shaking his head. “That doesn’t bother me either. You don’t have to move a muscle if you don’t want to.”

“So…can I kiss you good morning, then?”

“Anytime you want.” Max promises, crossing an ‘X’ over his heart.

“Even at four in the afternoon?” Somehow you can’t resist teasing him today, even as you’re leaning in to softly press your lips to his.

“If that’s what time you want a good morning kiss.” He chuckles. “But then that means you are worn out from the night before.”

“Very worn out.” And after just what you got up to on your first night, you won’t be surprised at all when that time comes. The polite knock on your bedroom door interrupts what was about to be another giggling kiss, and you pause in confusion before realizing it must just be Renee coming to wake you up. “Come in.”

Mrs. Taylor is the one that opens the door, poking her head in with an annoyed frown on her face. “Ms. Dolly, I hate to interrupt, but there is a person at the door who is insisting to speak with you.”

“A person?” A part of you feels like you ought to spring away from Max’s side the second the door is opened, but you resist. This is both of your home, you’re consenting adults, and you’re soulmates for crying out loud. Besides which, the only clothing that came off last night was Max’s shirt, so you’re still perfectly decent. “Alright, um…I’ll only need a minute to get dressed.”

Max doesn’t like the unhappy look on the housekeeper’s face. “I’ll get dressed too.” He insists before he finally lets go of you. He had been too focused on you to hear any commotion but he was fairly certain she would send away any unexpected visitors, so if this person is insisting, it’s not good.

About to say that he doesn't need to trouble himself, you see the resolved expression on Max's face and nod. "We'll be down in a minute, Mrs. Taylor." You tell the housekeeper instead, figuring that whatever it is, it will be quick. It's probably someone about the masquerade, or asking donations for something. With a big, busy house like this, anybody would be right to assume that you have a bit of money to donate to a good cause. "I will show them to the Green Salon." Mrs. Taylor nods and shuts the door behind her, not liking the situation one bit.

The Green Salon. Max arches a brow, aware that the Green Salon was the most imposing of the day rooms. Meant to intimidate. Whoever this is, isn’t a friend.

"I feel like I should dress up and I don't really know why?" Something about Mrs. Taylor's tone makes you feel like this is a big deal. Or at least not casual.

“Sometimes what you wear is a defense mechanism.” Max understand that completely. That’s what his suits are. “Wear the outfit that makes you feel the most powerful, Queenie.” He urges you. “Live up to that nickname.”

"Go put on your favourite suit, then." If he wants you to play that part, you'll need him by your side for support. "I'll find something that you can be proud to have me stand next to you in."

“I’d be proud to stand beside you in what you’re in right now.” He promises. “Queen Beth wore a bathrobe, and did it royally.” He jokes, winking at you. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

It takes you just a few minutes to throw on a respectable sweater and pair of gray slacks and redo your makeup, and you're putting in your earrings on the way out to the hallway where Max is already standing. Of course he was ready before you, but you're grateful that he decided to wait for you to go down. "You said powerful," you remind him, when he eyes the pair of high heels you've put on. It was a favourite pair of your mother's from way back, and even though your feet are sore from last night, you had heeded his advice thoroughly.

“You look like the lady of the house.” He promises with a smirk as he holds out his arm for you to take. Wanting to escort you down. He had heard someone shuffling, snooping around and opening drawers in the desk there. Not that there is any paperwork to find, but it’s interesting. “Shall we?”

"Let's find out who this visitor is." You can't think of a single person who would come looking for you that Mrs. Taylor wouldn't have announced by name, so you're a bit in the dark about the whole thing as you and Max descend the stairs. Even the lawyer would have gotten a formal announcement. Knowing Mrs. Taylor, she would have come in with his business card on a silver tray.

“It should be interesting.” Max comments as he guides you down the stairs and towards the Green Salon with the confidence of a man who had no worries in the world, although he grips your hand on his arm tightly in reassurance.

“Whoever it is,” you shake your head and squeeze his hand back tightly at the bottom of the stairs as he leads you through the ballroom to the sitting room decorated entirely in green and white. “It can’t possibly be that—” The thought dies on your tongue, though, the moment you turn your head and see who is standing beside the desk just a few feet away. “…Derek?”

Max’s entire body stiffens at the tone of your voice. Assuming that this is your ex. The one that had so badly mistreated you. If he were an animal, his hackles would be raised and his fur standing up. Instantly becoming more predatory when the man’s gaze turns towards you.

“Wh—what are you doing here?” Instinctually keeping close to Max’s side, your shoulders round in that familiar and automatic way of making yourself small that your posture has perfected over the years.

Derek frowns slightly at the well-dressed man that you are clinging to before he pokes his lip out slightly and rushes forward. “Baby, I’ve been so worried.” He huffs. “You just disappeared, didn’t call, I didn’t know where you were.”

“You kicked me out.” Shrinking in on yourself a little more deeply makes your face scrunch in confusion along with it. “You broke up with me and you kicked me out.” Right? Isn’t that what happened? Suddenly your memory is foggy and your palms are sweating with nerves.

“What?” He gives you a look of utter confusion and shakes his head. “No, no baby, I went to the bar with friends, you had been upset about something but when I got home, you were gone.” He tries to keep his voice saccharine sweet.

"I was upset because you called me useless and cursed me out—" Doubting your own memory, you look up at Max desperately and then back at Derek. This house was your sanctuary until two minutes ago, now you feel like you'll never be safe again. "How did you find me?"

His eyes narrow for a moment and he almost calls you stupid but the pretty boy next to you makes him mind his manners. “The tracking app.” He explains. “You didn’t turn it off and I finally remembered the login.” It’s more like he had finally given a shit when the house was a wreck and he didn’t have money for beer, but acting like he had been trying to find you sounds better.

"It took you a month to remember my birthday?" Sure, it's a bad idea to use the same password for everything. You get that. But as stupid as you feel for not disconnecting your phone from every single way he could trace you, you feel less stupid about having just one password for everything.

“I thought you had changed it.” Some of the sweetness falls flat and Max can tell that he’s getting annoyed. Good. “But I’m here now, but—” he looks around the opulent room. “What are you doing here?”

"I live here now." While that should be abundantly obvious, you understand his confusion. It's not as though you ever had an abundance of spare funds before. There were times that you could barely make ends meet. "This is my house."

“Your house?” His brow arches up drastically and he looks around the house again with a more appraising eye.

"Yes. It's my house." The place you shared in Tennessee had been under his name but mostly paid for with your money, but this was different. Everything about this place is legally yours and the people you share it with are kind and caring toward you. "You...managed to track me down but not figure out anything else about where I'd gone?"

“Baby.” Derek doesn’t understand why you aren’t overjoyed to see him. You are always a pathetic little mouse, but you are devoted to him. “I just needed to get to you.” He doesn’t mention that his truck is full of his things, the landlord kicking him out when he blew all his money on booze. “I wasn’t trying to waste time looking up this town.”

"That—that's not—" Shuffling from one foot to another, the pounding of your heart must be deafening to the vampires in the house but to you it's just impeding your ability to swallow as you work to try to remember exactly what happened the night you left. Was the fight really not as bad as you made it out to be? "You broke up with me," you repeat determinedly, like you're trying to convince yourself that your memory isn't lying to you. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

“What are you talking about?” Again he shakes his head, looking wounded at your accusation. “I would never break up with the woman I love.” He tells you, wondering why this suited asshole hasn’t let you go yet. “I was looking at engagement rings.”

A wave of nausea washes over you along with the itching sting of an impending panic attack, and your head begins to shake of its own accord before you look up at Max, imploring him not to believe any of this. " N—no." Barely stammered out, the word is completely foreign and definitely not one you were ever allowed to say to Derek. "You're not—we aren't—" As the panic sets in the fear takes hold, squeezing your heart and making you blurt out your best defense as bluntly as possible. "You're not my soulmate."

For a split second, something dark and ugly crosses the other man’s features and as much as Max would love to see what comes out of his mouth, he doesn’t want you to panic for another second. “Hey pal.” Using his most condescending, office manager voice, Max extends his hand out to Derek. “Max Phillips.” He introduces himself. “You are?”

"Derek Scott." There is nearly a growl in the smaller man's voice, and while he means to shake the pompous suit's hand hard enough to make him flinch, the guy you're clinging to seems to be a brick wall. "What exactly are you doing in my girlfriend's house, pal?" Whoever this guy is, Derek needs him out of the way pronto. He wasn't expecting a roadblock when he found you and he doesn't like having his plans interrupted.

“Girlfriend?” Max scoffs slightly, not letting go of the man’s hand and squeezing just shy of making him wince. “Not the way I see it. Why are you here? Me? I’ve lived here for four years.”

"I'm here for my girl." The false confidence in Derek's voice almost waivers with the tight squeeze of his hand, but he manages to hold his shit together long enough to wrench his hand free and realize just how much bigger than him this fuckin' guy really is. "Or did you not hear the part about engagement rings?" Not that he ever would, but he needs this guy to buy the lie. And you, too, for that matter.

“Oh I heard it.” Max chuckles and looks over at you. “I just don’t believe it. Don’t think she does either.” He comments pithily. “Not that it matters anymore. You kicked her out, she just disappeared, who cares? She’s here now and that’s all that matters.”

"I would never have kicked her out." He lies, layering on the look of devotion as he looks over at you. He did. And frankly, he'd done it more than once. It's just that before this, you always came back. Usually in tears, promising to be better. It suited him just fine to always have someone at his beck and call. Especially since you could pay the bills. "But I still don't know why you are here." The guy said he lives here, but how the fuck does that work if this is your house?

“And you don’t need to know.” Max singsongs, grinning broadly. “It’s like having that Top Secret clearance in the government. If you were meant to know, you would.” Right now, he doesn’t want to divulge your soulmate status until he can talk to you, alone. Find out what this asshole wants. “Queenie—” he comments mildly, looking over at you with a wink. “My offer is still on the table.”

It takes you a second, the confusion that's settled over your mind making it hazy, but when you remember that Max has straight out offered to kill Derek for you, your eyebrows shoot up and you shake your head adamantly. "No. N-no. That's...um...that's not...that's not necessary." You insist, feeling like a terrified animal that's been cornered by a predator. "Would you just...let Eddie and Allison know that someone else is here? Please?" Eddie has probably already heard the commotion, but you know Allison would be mortified to wander downstairs in his bathrobe and run into a stranger.

“Are you sure, doll?” His eyes search yours seriously. He doesn’t want you to be alone with this prick, but he’s also not going to control you. When you give him a hesitant nod, he blows out a sigh for show. “Be right back.” He promises, letting go of your arm and cutting his eyes at Derek before he walks out of sight.

"You haven't talked about getting married in years," you murmur, arms crossed over your chest protectively the moment Max is out of sight. It was something that had been talked about on and off — in an abstract sort of way — at the beginning of your relationship with Derek but not since.

“I know, I’ve been….waiting until I could provide for you.” He lies, stepping closer and feeling more confident now that smarmy suit has left the room. “But I realized I don’t want to wait.”

"But..." He steps closer and you step back, trying to keep distance without being overtly rude or making him mad. Derek getting mad is never a good thing. "You...you were sleeping with that bartender." These are things you swore you knew to be true, but fear has muddled your memory. "What's her— Nikki. You were sleeping with Nikki!"

“No I wasn’t.” Derek shakes his head and sighs. “You always claimed I was cheating but I wasn’t. You let your jealousy cloud everything. I wasn’t cheating, I would never cheat.”

"She was in our house." It was about two weeks before he blew up and threw you out, but you know it happened. "She was in our house and you had lipstick on your mouth and—" Feeling the panic crash over you in another wave, you step back again and remind yourself to breath. "I'm not going back," you tell him with a surprising amount of vehemence. "I live here now."

“It’s a nice house.” Derek nods and looks around again. “Nice and big. Expensive.”

"It belonged to family." Saying it out loud is like a resolution, as if acknowledging it is a promise that you aren't going to leave.

“Funny you didn’t have family before.” The mask slips slightly, his frown deeper than before and he steps towards you again.

"It wasn't someone I knew." One step forward gets one step back, and you almost trip moving backward from the carpeted floor of the green room out to the waxed wooden floor of the ballroom. "She left me the house when she died."

He hums, not believing you, but it doesn’t really matter. Soon enough he will know exactly what was left to you and be able to turn it into cash. “Generous.”

"Yeah." A meek nod follows the whisper of the word and you plant your feet again so you won't slip. "Yeah, it—well—it's good. I needed a new start."

“You don’t need a new start.” Derek huffs. “You’re with me.”

"N-no." The shake in your voice is unmistakable. Maybe no one else in the world would know that tone as specifically as you do, but that's the tone that says you're going to be very sorry, very soon. "I-I'm with Max now."

“That guy?” Derek scoffs and shakes his head. “He’s not with you. There’s no way.”

"Why?" That stings so much more than you would have expected. Maybe because it hits home on the very fears that you've been ruminating over since you found out that Max is your soulmate. "Because he's too good for me? Trust me, I know that."

“Because you’re with me.” Derek reminds you. “He’s not your type, I am. I’m the only one who will ever love you like you need.”

"But—you—" Your chest heaves with the effort of holding in the panic that you have had a month's respite from, and the room seems to spin around you in a way that promises to be very bad news in a just a second's time. "You don't—" Breathe. You have to remember to breathe. You manage to snatch your hand away when he reaches for it. "I don't love you anymore."

Max had informed Eddie within two heartbeats of leaving this room, although he had to begrudgingly allow for the human time to walk upstairs and down. He’s been by the door, listening, and is proud of the way you are holding your own. “Listen-—”the douche bag ex starts to talk, but your soulmate decides this is the perfect time to interrupt. “And that concludes todays visitation.” He announces playfully, but has every intention of tearing this asshole apart if he argues. “We thank you for stopping by, but as you can see, Queenie is an extremely busy woman. Planning masquerades and all.” He sails through the door as if he owns the place, with all the grace and confidence this little slime-ball could never possess. Reaching your side and taking your hand again so Derek couldn’t reach for it. His eyes are flat and hard as they shift towards your abusive ex. “Good bye.”

“Don’t you think she oughta be the one to decide that, pal?” Derek’s temper is boiling just below the surface and he has never taken well to rejection. Not ever in his life. Which is why your sudden ability to grow a spine is so fucking disturbing. “This isn’t your house. It belongs to my girl.” He still doesn’t understand why the suited prick even lives here, but he’ll do some digging and find out. Drawing a shaky breath, Max’s hand in yours is grounding and bolstering all at once. “You should go.” You manage after another second, practically shaking apart on the spot from the anxiety of saying no to Derek in any way.

“You heard her, buddy.” The shallow grin that had been on Max’s face drops and for a split second he considers changing his features, really scaring the dogshit out of this dickhead. He doesn’t, out of respect for you. He squeezes your hand to reassure you that nothing will happen to you. “Have a nice day, life, whatever.”

“Baby.” He takes one advanced step, realizing that as long as your guard dog is here, you’re harder to break. What he needs to do is get you alone. “Let me take you out tonight, at least?” He’ll have to figure a couple of things out before then, but he’s been in worse spots before. “I don’t think so.” Shaking your head slightly while you cling to Max’s hand, your eyes hit the floor rather than Derek’s face. None of this is how you wanted to start your day, and you feel like you might crumble if you don’t have your soulmate’s sturdy frame to hold on to.

“It’s time for you to leave.” Max practically snarls it, pissed that this jerk off isn’t getting the hint. You say that he shouldn’t destroy this prick, but Max is about to do it for himself.

“I’ll be back.” Derek announces with vehemence, and you can see his anger tinging the surface as his eyes narrow down on you like they’ve done so many times before.

Max subtly steps in front of you, letting go of your hand. “Let me show you the door.” It’s not a suggestion. “So you don’t get lost.”

The front door is maybe fifteen feet away at most but you still watch Max walk Derek straight to it and push it open to let the smaller man out. They seem to stare challengingly at each other for just a minute before Derek looks past him and finds you staring, at which point he blows you a kiss — something he hasn’t done in years — and steps out into the morning sun. As soon as the door shuts behind him, your legs give out, leaving you in a crumpled pile of gasping sobs on the ballroom floor.

“Fuck.” In a flash, Max is next to you. Not pulling you up, but down on the floor with you and pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, it’s alright sweetheart.” He murmurs softly. “Let it out,” he rubs your back and pats it gently like he would comfort an infant as they sobbed. He doesn’t want to make you stop, just wants you to know he’s there for you.

“I—I—forgot—” Stuttered out in stifled hiccups, you cling to Max tightly without fear of hurting him and try very hard not to get makeup or tears on his suit. “How could I be so stupid?”

“You are not stupid.” He grunts, making sure you know he doesn’t believe that shit. He holds you tight and wishes he knew how to make it better.

“I’d have to be, to forget about Find My Phone,” you gasp, the tears flowing thick and insistent as you try to hiccup breaths in between. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?” Max tries not to frown as he takes your face in his hands. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing.” He doesn’t want to compel you to calm down, but he will if you continue to blame yourself and nearly make yourself sick.

“He’s dangerous.” Is all you can think to say, the insistent and nagging feeling of fear brewing in your gut.

For a second, Max is speechless. Shocked quiet by your words until he starts to chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m more dangerous than he could ever imagine being.” He promises, tilting your head up and making you meet his eyes. “Do you want me to show you? I don’t look this pretty all the time. There’s- there’s another side to me.”

“I’ve seen your teeth,” you remind him quietly, not quite understanding and trying to get your breathing back to normal from nearly hyperventilating a moment ago.

“It’s not just teeth, sweetheart.” Max is glad he didn’t start calling you ‘baby’ since that was what Derek called you. “You can call it my monster face. You want to see it? See the real me?”

“I have seen the real you.” No matter what else there may be to him, you refuse to believe that the man he has been with you is t the real him — the person he wants to be at his core. “But show me the other side, too.” Puffing out a breath, you barely manage to shift against him. “It’s only fair. Since you’ve seen me falling apart.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be worried about Derek.” He grumbles. “Not when your soulmate - who will never hurt you -“ he add, “looks like this.”

Any other time you might have been startled. You might have reeled back of stared or even been frightened of that way Max’s face transforms. Instead, you almost smile. The twitch at the corners of your mouth, at least are unmistakable. It isn’t fear you feel, but safety. “My guard dog,” you decide after Moment, reaching up to touch his transformed brow.

He growls in surprise at your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch like a guard dog would. He would fight the monsters for you, protect you, and then beg for love and attention from you. His fangs are on display when he smiles, looking like one of the vampires from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was amazing how they got them right. Rumor was one of the exec producers was a vamp himself. “Woof.” He teases.

The tease startles a small laugh out of you, which is steadily followed by a few last tears as your fingers trace the peaks and valleys of his cheek. “You’re not a monster,” you murmur, the recurring thought from his head bleeding into yours, but you refuse to yield to it. “He is.”

“He might be a monster, but me? I’m the thing nightmares are made of.” Max’s voice is deeper in this form, less human than before. “And I will use ever power I have to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

“I know you will.” Despite hiccups in the beginning — which there definitely were, you won’t deny that — that is something you believe right down to your core. Max will never intentionally hurt you. Not now. Not knowing who you are to him. Deflating once more, as though the last of the panic is being pushed out of you like a bellows, you lean in and press your forehead to his. “I don’t know what comes over me,” you admit, quiet enough for only him to hear. “It’s like a can’t think when he’s around. I can’t trust my own memory, or my mind at all.”

“Because the motherfucker is gaslighting you.” Max snorts, shifting back to his ‘normal’ form. “His heart speeds up half a beat when he lies. And it skips the every fifth beat while you’re melting down.”

“You should be a living lie detector.” Thinking about it for half a second after it comes out of your mouth, you huff. “An undead lie detector, technically. I guess.”

He chuckles. “I guess I should be. I’ll add it to my resume.”

“What a way to start the day.” It’s a miserable ruination of a perfectly good morning, and you sigh in Max’s arms.

“It just means the rest of our day will be on the upswing.” He murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your hair.

“We…” Looking around, you huff and look up, but your eyes only get as far as his chin. You’re too ashamed that he’s seen the power Derek apparently still holds over you to look him in the eyes like this. “We should get off the floor…”

“Only if you’re ready.” Max isn’t going to judge you for the way you reacted, he knows that the hold people have over someone is strong at times.

“You can’t be comfortable.” The automatic way you think of everyone else first is drilled into you so much that you don’t even realize you’re doing it most of the time. “And I promised Allison brunch. It wouldn’t be fair to have Mrs. Taylor do all that work and then not eat anything.”

“You can take a moment.” Max tuts softly, not wanting you to think that he’s admonishing you. He’s not. “I’m not going to die of a cramp. Brunch hours are still in full swing, and Mrs. Taylor thrives on making food for humans.”

“This is my moment. Right here.” Right here with him. This is the only way you could ever remotely be okay. “Normally encounters with that man leave me catatonic or privately inconsolable. The fact that I can even speak coherently right now is because of you.”

“Then I’m happy that I was here.” If he had been at work and this had happened, he would have been pissed.

"Pretty glad you decided to stay home," you admit, echoing his thoughts without knowing it.

“I am too, Queenie.” He hums softly and then gives a small chuckle. “Although you should never worry. Mrs. Taylor would have torn his head off if he had touched you. Everyone here really. We are protective of our human.”

"Then I feel very, very safe." Ironic, considering how many humans would fear for their lives in a house full of vampires, but you sit up in the middle of the ballroom floor and exhale slowly. "I just...I wonder how long he'll stay around. Or try to stay around, I guess."

He hums, knowing that the man had already sniffed out money. He wasn’t going away anytime soon. “I’m sure that he will move on soon, but for now, Eddie or I can run around town with you and Allison.”

"I can always take Mr. Taylor with me, too. If I need to." The older man looked far younger than his years, obviously, and having the strength of a vampire nearby could only be helpful in that department. "I'd hate to ask any of you to do it, though. To basically be my bodyguards until he's gone."

“You aren’t asking.” Max points out with a small smirk, dropping his hand to your and rubbing the back of it gently. “I know it might seem confining, like I’m punishing you, but I just want you to be safe.”

"Trust me, I know what being punished feels like." Shaking your head won't banish those particular memories, so you shift to your knees and start to stand. Slowly, of course. Since you've been crying and all. "This is the farthest thing from it."

Max frowns fiercely and opens his mouth to demand to know what you mean by that, but he doesn’t speak. He won’t push you to talk about things that you might not be coping with well. He helps you up and bites his lip as he brushes off your outfit, taking extra time on your ass.

"I can feel that, ya know." Teasing is good. It lightens the mood and it helps to break the tension of the last half hour.

“I would hope so.” He snickers, patting it once before dropping his hand.

“I should go up and apologize to Eddie and Allison.” You know that Eddie heard every word, and that Max was probably listening sharply every second he was out of the room. The only thing you want at this point is to alleviate any awkwardness that Derek’s unwelcome visit may have caused.

“You didn’t invite him here, sweetheart.” He doesn’t like your need to apologize for things beyond your control. “But I’ll go with you.”

“We’re right here.” Allison and Eddie stand at the bottom of the staircase, having waited until the sounds of argument and crying had stopped to come down from his room. “Honey.” With both arms outstretched, Allison hurries across the great hall to wrap you up in a hug. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Max steps back, motioning Eddie off to the side while Allison comforts you. Pleased that Eddie’s witchy girlfriend was such a good friend to you. He knows the other vampire heard him but he wants to put Eddie’s unique skills to use. “I want you to find out where this motherfucker is staying.” Eddie’s damn handy with a computer. “And why he decided to come to Newport. She won’t let me kill him…yet.”

“On it.” Eddie promises him, glancing past Max to make sure you’re okay with Allison. “He isn’t gonna like her being threatened when he finds out.” There is no doubt in the older vampire’s mind that their sire will find out everything that’s happened. It’s only a matter of when.

“No he won’t, but I am more concerned with her right now.” Max confesses quietly. “She almost instantly went back to the shy mouse she was when she arrived. I don’t like it, I don’t like him being here, threatening her peace.”

“We’ll get him out of town as fast as he came.” Eddie promises, his head bowed and expression uncharacteristically serious. He doesn’t take it lightly when his family is threatened — and you’re family. More than just being related to Cookie, you’re Max’s soulmate. You are a part of his clan and that is that.

“Thanks.” He might give Eddie a bunch of shit, a lot of the time, but that’s just playing around with him. He cares about the other vampire tremendously and he knows that Eddie has a tender spot for you. “I’m going to try to work from home as much as possible.”

“We can get you a positive Covid test,” Eddie offers instantly, knowing that though Mr. Taylor looks like a fairly run of the mill, ordinary man, his resources run deep. He can get any kind of blood or DNA they need - even infected. Some vampires like it. They think it tastes spicy. “Two weeks off, per company rules. If I remember your griping correctly.”

Max smirks, lifting a brow at Eddie. “Been thinking about using that at school, haven’t you?”

“It’s just the dumbass math credits.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “I’m forty fucking years old and I’ve never used calculus once.”

“And you never will.” Max admits with a roll of his eyes. “My favorite thing was when the math teachers told me I would never just carry a calculator in my pocket. Jokes on them.”

The smirk and half-snort it earns him from Eddie in agreement makes both men laugh, and Eddie nods after a moment. “We’re gonna take care of her,” he promises. “Whatever it takes.”

“I know, I just-“ he shrugs helplessly. “I feel vulnerable now.”

“That’s fair.” There’s nothing that Eddie can particularly say to change that. Not in this moment anyway, but he nods. “We should get him here,” he concedes. “We can keep her safe, but that would guarantee the rat bastard never sees the light of day again.”

"Have you figured out how to call him?" Max asks in amusement. He had never quite learned what peaked his interests or even how he had come to be restored after being destroyed by Evan and his little girlfriend.

“Mrs. Taylor knows.” Of that, Eddie is certain. “I’m not above calling in the big guns, and I know she can do it.”

"He might tell us to take this problem on ourselves and solve it." He doubts that, but oftentimes his sire could be difficult just because he could be.

“Not on something as important as your soulmate.” There is nothing their sire takes more seriously than protecting a soulmate.

"If this guy becomes a problem, I will ask Mrs. Taylor to call him." Because of his promise, he doesn't tell Eddie that he is already here. He just pretends that he has no clue where their shared sire is.

“Good.” For now Eddie just nods, knowing that Max has to be the one to take the reins on this. “For now, I’m gonna sort out that Covid test to buy you some time off and you should go be with her. Just…I can’t imagine the kind of hell she’s in.”

"She's more concerned with being a problem than having a problem because of this douche bag." Max shakes his head. "I just wish she knew that she doesn't have to pretend with us."

“She hasn’t been away from him that long.” If there’s one thing Eddie knows, it’s how twisted relationships can get. He may not have been in a situation quite as bad as yours, but he does understand it. “She’s not pretending, this is just how she reacts to things now. It’s conditioning. And over time she’ll be able to unlearn it as she feels safer and more supported with us. But that takes a lot of time.”

“It’s a good think we’ve got plenty of it.” Max frowns as he imagines the hell you must have lived with and guilt settles over his shoulders. “This is all my fault.”

“How?” Eddie frowns, glancing passed Max to see Allison leading you into the dining room with a soothing hand on your back. When he refocuses on Max he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How is that piece of shit possibly your fault?”

“Because when I got kicked out of college, that night I forgot I had a blind date set up.” Max waits for a second to see if it clicks with Eddie but the other vampire just frowns again in confusion. “I was supposed to go on a date with Dolly. And instead of meeting her soulmate, she met fuckface.”

“Oh fuck.” Teasing ceases immediately when he realizes that it’s not just blame Max has put on his own shoulders, it’s guilt. “You couldn’t have known, man. Not in a million years.”

“No? I should have.” Max had been kind of a douche, but he had respected people. Hadn’t wasted their time. He had failed you. “I should have remembered, and now she’s dealing with all this.” He waves his hand towards the door.

“So maybe instead of wallowing in it and feeling bad about something you can’t change, this is the time to take care of her.” He can’t fault Max for feeling bad, or for connecting those dots in his mind that have already become a chain, but he doesn’t want it to overwhelm the other vampire. “And that’s not suggesting that you aren’t taking care of her right now. I’m just saying keep doing it. Protect her. Support her. And for fuck’s sake, let’s get rid of this asshole.”

“I’ve offered to kill him.” Max reveals. “I wouldn’t even eat him, he’s too rotten.” It says a lot about you that you still wouldn’t let him kill the asshole, but Max had to give up his humanity in that aspect when he became a creature that preyed on humans.

"I can't imagine that that went over very well with Dolly." although Eddie would be lying if he claimed that he didn't want to do the same.

“She thanked me, but said no.” He huffs, a little amused at your politeness at it. “I don’t like feeling helpless, Ed.”

"No one does." Eddie assures him. And after a moment adds: "Do you want to go have brunch with her? It might help you feel better just to keep an eye on her."

“I took today off, I had planned on it, but now it’s assured.” He nods. “She said Allison was joining her? Are you planning on being there too?”

“I was planning on asking if they wanted more company or if they wanted to girl talk,” Eddie admits with a soft grin. His night with Allison had been fantastic and he had planned on telling Max all about it today — but other things took precedence.

“Then I say we both join them and make it seem like it was our plan all along.” Max hums, feeling slightly better now that he knows that the vampires he is closest with agree with his view. This Derek needs to disappear.

******

You don’t hesitate when Allison comes into the ballroom with her arms open, accepting her embrace and doing your best to maintain any sort of composure. “Hell of a morning,” you huff into her shoulder, trying to make it seem much less drastic than it feels.

“And not a single bit of it is your fault.” Eddie had told her about the meeting, relaying the conversation as it happened, so she doesn’t even pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on.

“It feels like it is.” It feels like everything wrong in the world is your fault, and it’s all weighing down on your shoulders.

“You never would have allowed him to come here.” She shakes her head. “So no, don’t let him ruin your special day.” She hugs you again fiercely and pulls back to look into your eyes. “You have your soulmate, your health, a beautiful house, friends, a coven.” She snorts. “Want me to call them over? We’ll put hexes on him.”

“Do hexes even take when the person is evil to begin with?” You snort softly and shake your head. “It’s not worth it. I just…I was working really hard to put him in my past. And now he’s…very much present again.”

“He’s only present if you allow him to be.” She hums as she turns to wrap her arm around you and guide you out of the ballroom and towards the dining room. “He’s virtually a stranger to you now. You don’t owe him a hello.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that,” you tell her honestly, but don’t resist being led into the next room. Misery may love company but it’s stolen away your appetite, though that doesn’t mean Mrs. Taylor’s magical cooking won’t bring it back.

“Explain it to me, love.” She rubs your back to soothe you. She can’t claim to know that part of your life, despite the things that you have confided in her and the others, but she’s never lived it.

“It’s like…having a light switch in my back. It’s one that he put there and I don’t know to turn it off or take it out.” There is probably a far more eloquent way to describe the sensation, but it fully escapes you this morning. “The switch is just never off. And somehow, when he’s around? It finds another level. I have no fight or flight anymore. It’s just survival mode. I am constantly just clawing desperately at survival but that switch? The fact that it’s on takes up all of my energy. I can’t think, I definitely can’t fight back, I just…melt down.”

Her jaw tightens and if he were in front of her, Allison would punch that asshole dead in his mouth. It sounds like Derek has trained your reactions to fit his dark aura, feeding off of your panic. “You have had it rough.” She murmurs sympathetically, her heart breaking at the grief in your tone. “But, that is the past and now we will make sure that he regrets trying to come back into your life.”

“I just…want him to leave.” Everything was going so well, and you were starting to adjust. Things were looking up for the first time since…well, since your parents died. “I don’t even care what else happens to him. I just want him to go.”

“He can be barred from the estate.” She reminds you quietly. “You hold the power this time.”

“That would just make me terrified to leave the property.” While she might technically be correct, you know yourself. And you know that other problems would arise. "I’d develop agoraphobia in under a week.”

“Max or Eddie should be with you.” Allison immediately ventures. “Or even Mrs. Taylor or Renee. But I think that Derek would be more wary of another man.”

"He wouldn't even blink at me being out with you or one of the girls or Renee. Mrs. Taylor might give him pause, but only because he's kind of afraid of his mother. It would wear off quickly." It does occur to you, though, that Max really is a bit like your guard dog at the moment. And while some others might find it unsettling you find it to be the most comforting fact in the world. "I'll just work my schedule around Max's work schedule. We don't have a coven meeting this week anyway, and it's not as if Mrs. Taylor takes me grocery shopping with her."

“Don’t restrict yourself to the estate.” She urges quietly. “Go out, be seen with your soulmate.”

"There aren't too many places I even go." Over the last few weeks it's been expanding, but that number will surely shrink again in no time. "And Derek wouldn't even know what a dance studio looks like, let alone how to find one."

“Doesn’t matter if he will find you or not.” She shakes her head, guiding you to the table and pulling out a chair for you. There are four place settings, so she assumes that Eddie and Max will be joining you and she’s glad of it. “The point is you not isolating yourself.”

"I'm staying home today," you tell her firmly, not willing to bend on that point. "Anything beyond that...I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Does that count as compromise?"

“Perfect.” She can’t blame you, not at all, and she smiles softly. “I think today is a lovely day to stay in.”

"Tell me all about your night?" Places are set but there is no trace of Mrs. Taylor just yet, and you reach over the table to squeeze Allison's hand. "Please? It will distract me."

“I don’t know how to even describe it.” Allison can’t help but giggle at the mere mention of the night before, blushing furiously. “Magical? Incredible? We talked all night.”

"Just talked?" There is almost a smile on your lips, a half-hearted attempt at the expression tucking itself into the corner of your mouth like a smirk as you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe not just talked.” She admits with a small sigh, looking positively dreamy.

"And you weren't even sure he liked you back." The absolute, pure happiness on your friend's face is the best balm you could ask for right now, reminding you that there are so many good things in the world to combat the bad.

“How was I supposed to know?” She cries out, even if she’s grinning, practically beaming.

“All that matters is you’re happy now.” They have both been such sweet friends to you that seeing them happy together is a marvel. It really feels like these two dear friends had been put in each other’s paths on purpose, it just took them a little while to inch slowly closer to each other on that path.

“And you?” She asks softly, arching a brow. “How did last night go?” She hopes that Max standing beside you is a good indication of the night, but she wants to hear it from you.

“It was…” Your cheeks warm again instantly, happy memories casting a glow over your features that even the events of the last half hour can’t mar. “Pretty perfect, honestly. Everything about it.”

“You were so nervous about dinner, how did you like the tavern?” Allison asks, grinning at the dreamy expression that’s taken over your face. It apparently went really well, and she wonders if you slept in Max’s arms like she did in Eddie’s last night.

“It was really fancy, but it was so romantic.” The entire meal had been like a dance, and as much as you had felt overwhelmingly out of place in the beginning, by the end you didn’t even notice anyone else was there. “And that dance studio invited us back. We were…We were talking about maybe doing a competition together in the future.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up, knowing how much you’ve loved dancing in the past. The fact that you are talking about doing it means that you probably will, since Max is more of a action kind of man than a talker.

“The whole thing was perfect.” You shrug slightly, the light in your eyes dimming a little when you do. “And then we got this, this morning.”

“Max isn’t upset at you, he’s not mad.” Allison reminds you. “He’s probably feeling pretty damn protective right now.”

“I can’t imagine why any of you even still want to spend time with me, knowing what I’m really like.” That mouse — that broken, beaten down, terrified version of yourself colours everything so deeply when it comes out that you can’t manage to see that the rest of who you are is still very much there. And it always has been. It’s just that you’ve been frightened into shutting her up into a small closet in the corner of your mind. It’s only since you got to Newport that you’ve even remembered how to open the door again.

“I see a strong woman.” Allison frowns at your description of yourself. “One who has survived things that I could never fully understand. I admire you, Dolly. You could be embittered, harsh and cold. But you are still amazing warm and compassionate, friendly and loving. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you? Me or anyone else?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see myself the way you seem to,” you admit softly. The way she defends you so fiercely, even to your yourself, is heartening. You just feel so tired from finding out that this fight — with him, for yourself and for your freedom — isn’t over yet.

“I think you will.” She tilts her head playfully. “When you realize that you have an immortal soulmate who would destroy to protect you, you’ll see how strong you are.”

“Maybe.” There’s no use arguing about it, of course, and anything is possible. Even if it isn’t likely. “Maybe one day I’ll find the edge of this shell and crack my way out of it. Until then, I’m just very glad to have people in my life who don’t mind a little bit of nuttiness.”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Allison laughs, wide eyed. “We’re all nuts here. It’s part of our charm.”

Her honest, full-throated laughter helps you relax just a touch more and you smile. “Maybe that’s why I’m so comfortable here after all.”

“Perhaps.” She teases, reaching out and buffing your shoulder slightly. “Otherwise, you would have run for the hills. A strange inheritance, vampires? It’s almost unbelievable.”

“It’s the three-volume gothic novel I always wanted,” you admit, a small and slightly guilty grin cracking your expression. “I just never thought I’d be in the story.”

“It’s much better than reading it, isn’t it?” She laughs. “I never thought I would have the supporting actress roll to a wonderful main character, and I love it.”

“You are second to no one, honey. Never. You are vibrant and loving and you are definitely leading lady material.” Nothing about Allison’s personality says anything but shining star, and you’ll tell her that every day.

“No, I like the supporting role.” She insists with a giggle. “It’s not bad at all. Plus, I’ve discovered a new best friend because of all this.

"And you finally got your man." Your smile quirks slightly, and you grin in amusement. "Well...vampire."

"Man enough." Allison snorts, grinning back at you and biting her lip. "Although we didn't do that. Yet."

"Neither did we." It would have been too much for the very first night together, and it would have made this morning all the more devastating to be interrupted the way that you were.

"Do you wish you had?" She asks curiously. "Since you had that unpleasant visitor?"

"Honestly I think it would have made this morning even worse," you admit, though you aren't sure if you'll follow your logic. "It would have been an even ruder interruption and I would have felt all the more exposed."

"I can appreciate that." She hums, biting her lip and reaching out to touch your hand. "I know that having a drink to calm your nerves isn't your style, is there something that does help?" She asks, wanting to help you move past your anxiety from your ex's visit.

"Tea." It seems like a funny thing to say out loud, or at least a thing that makes you sound like an old British lady, but it's true. "Max was talking about helping with some renovations on the teahouse. Taking out the stove and replacing it with a fireplace to make it a little more witchy and a little less mid-60s."

"Ohhhhhh." Her eyes widen and heart practically appear in their depths, falling in love with the idea. "That would be amazing, wouldn't it? What do you think? That's the most important question, of course."

"I think if he ever can't find me, the first place he needs to look is my little medieval witch teahouse paradise." The thought is just as dreamy to you as it seems to be to Allison and you're glad that it is one more thing that you will be able to share with your friend. "And I think we should take the chance to build a small altar in the teahouse, too. The bookshelf is just the right height to put it on top."

"I think that would be a good idea." She nods. "You should be able to take anything out of the tower you would want to make it more your own."

"If you had asked me when I got here, I would have said that I would never get used to living in a place like this, but it's become home so quickly."

"Cookie always said that this house was meant to be a home." Allison muses.

"And she was right about that." Eddie says from the doorway, flashing both you and Allison a warm smile before rounding the table to kiss Allison's cheek and sit down in the chair to her right.

“Awwww, how sweet.” Max is right behind him, doing the exactly same thing for you, even though he’s busting Eddie’s balls. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks softly after bussing your cheek gently.

“I’m starting to feel a little better.” It’s a miracle that you are, since recovery was never exactly something you experienced when you were dealing with Derek on your own.

“We’ll have you feeling amazing by the end of brunch. Completely forgetting about this little interruption in our day.” Max reaches for your hand as soon as he sits down and kisses the back of it.

“I was just telling Alli about the tea house plans,” you tell him, already feeling that much safer with him beside you and reassuring you.

“You’ve decided you want to do it?” Max looks thrilled that you like the idea. “I can guarantee you will love it. And Mr. Taylor knows a crew that can have it done in days.”

“It doesn’t have to be rushed.” After all, besides you and Allison, everyone else has all the time is the world. “But I think it would be really nice. I can add a second altar on top of the bookshelf and have it be a little more casual than the altar space in the tower.

“It would be nice to have before the snows come.” Eddie agrees, nodding eagerly. “It can be even cozier and I bet a little bat would love to bask in front of the fire.”

Allison giggles at the image and you smile a little wider than you had been a moment ago. “I can see it now. A little bat window in the door instead of a cat door.” You muse, just imagining how silly that is as Mrs. Taylor comes in with a pot of tea and a carafe of warm blood.

Max rolls his eyes, still not aware that Allison knows he’s the bat in question, but he grins at you. “I think Cutie would like to hang out there with you.”

The soft, giggling laugh that Allison lets free is barely stifled, and you squeeze Max’s hand gently. “Apparently,” you murmur after thanking Mrs. Taylor for pouring your tea. “Cookie had told the coven a little while ago. About your…other form.”

Max’s eyes widen and he looks startled. For once looking like prey instead of a predator. “Oh.” He grunts. “So- you all knew it was me? That night?” He asks the other witch.

“We didn’t think it would be nice to tell your secret before you were ready to tell her yourself,” Allison confesses. “It just seemed very sweet to us. That you felt so attached and protective over Dolly so early on.”

“I couldn’t explain it at the time.” Max admits, knowing he’s told you the same thing. “I just needed to know she was safe.”

"I promise you." Her eyes move for Max over to you and back again. "Whenever she's with the coven, we'll keep her safe." She never could hae understood the real threat before, but now that she does? She is ready and willing to be on the front lines with you.

You welfare is the most important thing, so Max nods seriously. “Is there- I don’t know - some kind of protection spell you can do?”

“I’ve never been very good with spell work,” you murmur, always having felt like a bad witch for it. Your best strengths in witchcraft were when you were young, and you would routinely craft lucky charms for friends or loved ones. “Candace and Tracy and I are,” Allison offers. “We can teach you. Help you work on your spells if you want to. And if you don’t, we’ll just make sure the estate has a damn good protective barrier.” “There are supplies in the tower, should require specialized items.” Mrs. Taylor offers when she re-enters the room. Quiche, salad, fresh scones with jam and clotted cream, and a tray of arrayed meats that includes blood sausages all fill out the brunch table well.

“Mrs. Taylor would know.” Max muses. “Has the entire estate catalogued. Knows down to the number of spare toothbrushes in the cabinets for guests.”

“Seven.” Mrs. Taylor reports without flinching. She makes sure that everything is set out well and nods. Having learned that you like meal times but aren’t as formal as the last mistress of the house, she’s switched to serving meals family style. It seems to be going well. “There is dessert if you have room for it,” she tells you with a smile. “If not, it will be lovely with afternoon tea. But if you’ll excuse me, I will collect some things from the tower that Ms. Brown favored for protection spells.” And like that, she is gone again in the blink of an eye.

“Leave it to her.” Max wraps his arm around the back of your chair. “Most of the supplies will be in your tea house by the time you finish your first scone.”

“I don’t doubt it.” And you don’t think you ever would doubt Mrs. Taylor. Not when it comes to her ability to get things done.

“Everything looks so good.” Allison moans, looking over the table with astonishment. It was supposed to be a simple brunch, but the housekeeper had outdone herself.

“Dig in.” You encourage, nudging the silver carafe on the table toward Max first. A conversation with Mrs. Taylor the other day about blood consumption had lead to this particular idea and you wanted to know how he felt about it.

“This is new.” Max hums, looking over at you with a raised brow. “What made you decide to try this?”

“We’re trying out a slightly less formal way of doing things.” The meal all set out in the table and the slightly more formal China — at least, it isn’t the priceless one-of-a-kind French Limoges China set that Cookie had favoured — and now warm blood in coffee cups instead of wine glasses. It’s all a little more normal. Or at least as normal as this household might ever get. “Is it okay with you?” You look over at Eddie, who is helping Allison fill her plate. “I just thought everyone would be more comfortable without feeling like things had to be hidden.”

“Are you okay with it?” That’s what’s most important to him. While he’s consumed blood around you, you had never been aware of it. Teacups aren’t exactly inconspicuous.

“I want to be.” The best you can do is be honest with him, and this is your honest answer. “I want to do my best to understand, and to normalize blood in this house. Because you all deserve to exist as yourselves just as much as any of us do.”

“Vampire rights.” Max grins, finding it charming that you would be so concerned about it. “You are so damn sweet.”

“You’re my soulmate,” you remind him, though to your surprise it’s the first time that a different set of words has ardently risen to the top of your mind in their place. “I want you to be happy and comfortable.” Obviously, they all know now how little comfort and happiness there has really been in your life.

“And that’s my wish for you.” He counters. “So we’ll try this, but if it makes you queasy or uncomfortable, we won’t do it again.”

“Deal.” Of course you can’t blame him for being gentle with you. Not after this morning.

He grins, sending you a small wink before pulling his arm from around you. “Good, Dolly, let’s fix your plate.” He murmurs. “We worked up an appetite last night.”

“Dancing,” you clarify, knowing that Eddie has to have heard every second of what went on between you and Max last night and not knowing how much Max will have told him about yet. There’s still a smile in the corner of your mouth, though, and heat in your cheeks. You are know it was more than just dancing.

“Not that much dancing.” Max snorts. “Don’t get embarrassed sweetheart, we’re among friends.” He teases you. “Eddie wasn’t listening to your breathy moans because he was listening to Allison’s.”

Even though your ears burn immediately, Allison is the one who blushes furiously, and you both end up laughing. “That’s…that’s a fair point,” she admits. “I guess we’re all destined to a lot more breakfasts for four from now on.”

“And that will make Mrs. Taylor’s panties cream.” Max snorts, grinning devilishly.

“Nobody needs that image,” Eddie protests, practically cringing as he takes the carafe of blood from in front of Max to pour his own cup. He’s laughing though, underneath it, and Allison snorts and shakes her head.

“Mr. Taylor is very happy about that.” Despite being the less visible of the two, the vampire soulmate of the housekeeper was still desperate in love with his mate, despite the passage of time.

“They’re a very sweet pair.” Although both vampires do their utmost to be professional around you, you had seen them being affectionate more than once as you passed by the pair and they had always struck you as very much in love and like the unofficial parents of the rest of the staff.

“The stories they can tell.” Max tuts, rolling his eyes. “Never had so many ‘historical’ movies ruined in all my life.” It’s a joke, one meant to lighten the mood and turn it playful.

“I can’t wait to hear them all.” It sounds like the most heavenly pastime in the world to you, to sit and listen to all of those stories, and you can’t help the dreamy tone in your voice. “That sounds amazing.”

Eddie smirks at Max, having figured that you would enjoy that. “You know, one day, Mrs. Taylor should show you how to wear all the different styles of clothes. Have a little try on session.” He suggests.

“You love dress up, you know you do.” Allison smiles at the idea. She’s seen you with some of those dresses already and how you light up with historical fashion. “That…does sound like fun.” You have to admit that, as all four of you start your meal.

******

The rest of the day seemingly passed easy enough. You had slowly shed the unease that Derek’s visit had left under the guise of Max’s less than subtle flirting and teasing. Never anything that could be considered mean, all of it meant to make you feel good. When you had finally fallen asleep in his arms, Max sighs, tightening his hold on you as if to protect you in sleep.

It’s probably owing to having a protector that can and will sit up all night that you actually manage to fall asleep. The fear that lays deep in your bones hasn’t entirely dissipated over the course of the day and you’re reasonably assured to have nightmares about Derek breaking into your house or sneaking into your room to hurt you. Or, you would have. If you didn’t have a small army of very protective vampires to watch over you.

The door knob twists slowly, causing Max to snap his head towards the door. He hadn’t heard anyone approach so it must be him. Watching still as the door starts to swing open like a ghost, the darkness of the hallway concealing him before he steps into view. His eyes are fixed on the bed. Not on Max, but on you. Soft and yearning in a way that he had never seen on his sire’s face beyond when he was with Cookie. There’s a love there that Max can’t begin to understand and yet he realizes that you are so much more than just a random relative of the late witch.

He holds up one hand to indicate he will not be speaking and does not want Max to speak. Instead he focuses all of his attention solely on you, and steps closer to your side of the bed as he begins to filter through your thoughts and past the barrier of your dreams. From the haze of sleep, it is suddenly a crisp spring morning with birds singing outside the kitchen window of your childhood home. The smell of coffee and pancakes and something reminiscent of minerals and earth tickle your nose as you sit at the breakfast table with your father. And…two older people. You recognize them but can’t remember their names, though the part of your mind not engaged in Sleep insists this is Yayo and his wife. But you never made up a wife for Yayo. Did you? But you must have — or else how did she get into your dream…

It’s amazing that you are awake, but you’re not. Your eyes are open, but there is still the glaze of sleep in your eyes. It’s something that he knows vampires can do, but he’s never actually witnessed it before.

“But why can’t we go?” You ask, young and afraid of missing out on any opportunity for an adventure. Being denied a chance at going on a trip seems cruel to your little mind.

He smiles indulgently, careful to not reach for you since your mother was so wary of him being here. “Muñequita wishes to go, mija.” He urges, and his wife, beautiful and graceful, nods. “She will be at such a disadvantage in her destiny if you continue to shield her from her powers.” She hums. “By her age, you were already in control of your spells and you’ve barely taught her the basics!”

"She has her whole life ahead of her, Papa." You mother, hair perpetually tied back under a kerchief and long blouses always flowing over her jeans, doesn't take her eyes off the pancakes on the griddle in front of her even when your father gets up from the table to take things out of the oven. Bacon. The smell fills the kitchen and makes you grin happily, barely registering what the adults are talking about. "She doesn't need to be spending her summers surrounded by wizened old witches who want to poke and prod her or vampires who think they can experiment on her. She'll come into her powers just fine on her own if she really is what you think she is."

He hisses under his breath, a quick scowl to show his displeasure. “There has already been enough running from destiny in this family.” He reminds her, arching a brow and settling a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We had once thought you would be the one to take this role.”

"I know you did." When she puts the last pancakes on the platter and sets it down in the middle of the table, your mother ruffles your hair affectionately and pours you a glass of orange juice before starting to serve breakfast to the assembled family. "But I chose a human life instead. And I will not apologize for being happy."

“I have a human life.” Your grandmother reminds her, the tone slightly sharp due to the insult she has just subtly given both her and her father. “And it has been a glorious one, as you might recall.”

"But I am not human." The quiet reminder from your mother isn't angry, but it is the point. "And I know that you aren't happy that I've chosen to live as one, but it is what I have chosen."

“But you are better than a human.” Yayo insists. “The best of both species and yet you squander your life.” He views this as a rejection of the life he has given her, could give you and it irks.

"I'm happy, Papa. I have a job that I love, my wonderful husband, and my baby. Would you be happier if I had never given you a granddaughter? If I had stayed in your house to be constantly miserable for as many more centuries as I'll live?" Life in that house had been so happy early on, that she hates that it is now a sticking point. Happiness is all she's ever wanted and she cannot see why her parents would not let her decide what that would mean.

“You could have been happy with Emanuel!” His voice dips down with sorrow and underlying fury. “That house was built for you and your mother. The first stone set the day I learned a miracle had occurred.”

The look exchanged between your father and mother at the mention of a name you don't know makes you uneasy, an acute pain twitching in the back of your mind even if you don't understand quite what it is. "I'll see your house one day, Yayo." You promise your grandfather brightly, as though that would smooth the entire argument over without further question. "But I'm not big enough for it yet."

“Of course you will, muñequita.” Instantly, his attention is back on you, his smile soft and reassuring, like it always is. “One day it will be yours.”

"One day." The devout love you have for your parents is different than the affection you have for your grandfather. Even at eight years old, he is your best friend and biggest fan. Phone calls, letters, gifts, and even flowers arriving to your front door born by big men with embroidered shirts always make it into your little hands with glee. "But not yet. Not until I'm bigger. But then I;ll be big enough to read all your books."

“No.” Your mild mannered, polite and always agreeable father snaps, slapping the pan he had been holding down on the counter. “No, you will not be reading anything that he has.”

"Daddy?" The moment startles everyone in the room, you most of all, and your mother stands up from the table immediately to move to her husband's side. Her eyes are still on her parents, though, and she takes a deep breath. "I think it's time for you both to go," she decides, her hand gently massaging her husband's arm to calm him. "It's been a nice weekend, but I think we should cut it short before there's any more arguing."

“Mija-“ Your grandfather reaches out to his daughter, nearly blanching at the idea of leaving but she shakes her head. Making him freeze when she growls. “Darling, your father is-“ your grandmother stands, nearly wringing her hands as she tries to diffuse the tension. “I’m tired of the excuses, the what ifs and the what should have beens.” Your father rants. “You cannot accept that your daughter wants the life that she lives, that she chose after living for over one hundred years, then you are no longer welcomed in it.” He turns to his wife and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, baby, I’ve kept quiet, I’ve tried to support you, but all they do is insist you have the life they choose. You told me that if they started up again, you were done. Well, here we are.”

******

The feeling of drowning reaches into your dream, pulling you out of it which such a violent rip that you find yourself gasping and sitting straight up in bed, clawing at the blankets that were tucked up around your neck and shoulders. Max is right beside you still, you feel him sit up next to you the split second you realize you're awake. But there is another figure in the room. Soft, dark curls. A round face with mysterious eyes. That proud smile tucked up in the corner of his mouth as he watches you just as carefully as he always has. It takes a second, but you know you're not dreaming anymore. And you've just had either the most vivid dream of your life, or somehow the explanation for how real that felt will be much, much stranger. "Y—Yayo?" Is he really standing in front of you? Flesh and blood and as real as the morning sun pushing back against the curtains drawn over your bedroom windows.

Pride swells in his chest, just like it did every time he had heard his ‘nickname’ fall from your lips. “Good morning, muñequita.” He hums quietly, eyes alight with happiness. “It is so good to see you again, granddaughter.”

______

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