Wolf on the run

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Date | Tuesday, the 28th of December 2021 Time | The night is still young - 21:56 Place / Area | Jeremiah's - a cozy yet classy far with glaced wood interiour and nice, calm atmosphere placed in Aston city centre, Gaia. Outfit | Crochet-detailed, knee-length little black dress with low-cut neckline and exposed sides and a pair of simple ancle-strap heels in a blush colour.

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Alcohol. Maeve Poe hadn’t really touched the stuff for well over six month, besides from the slightly spiced eggnog at Christmas. Perhaps it was the tiny tiptoeing forward that had been the trigger. She hadn’t so much as thought of wanting to go out, which, although completely understandable, in and of itself had been a clear indicator that she wasn’t herself anymore. She used to love a quick drink after work or a night out with her common folk. She used to enjoy the night life. But it had drastically changed when that one drink had led to… Frankly, it had led to a horror show like no other. And yet, there she was, at a familiar bar, alone and already one cocktail down and with nothing hinting that her evening was over any time soon. It had really only just begun.
Albeit not having nurtured those former habits had certainly left its marks on her, because she was already feeling a very pleasant buzz from just one beverage. She wasn’t drunk! Not completely drunk, at least. Far from plastered. She was still very much aware of her surrounding and her thoughts and decisions, if you asked her. And she was still able to flash that pretty and sweet smile of hers to the bartender when a new, sugar-rimmed glass of almond crusta was gently placed in front of her on the bar counter.

Daintily curling her fingertips around the thing stork of the glass, she repositioned herself a little bitter in the tall barstool. Shifted which bare leg was laid over the other and which foot was resting on the foot rest - thank God for those things or she’d have no way of sitting comfortably in one of those, being as short as she was. Instinctively she pulled her dress properly in place so to not expose improper amount of skin to the public. The little black dress, she had chosen to put on, was already plenty revealing as it was. Was she maybe overdressed for the occasion? Probably. But she had needed it. Needed to doll herself up, even if it was just for herself. No, especially if it was for herself. It wasn’t only the dress. Her rich chocolate brown hair was pulled back in a glamourous pony tail. The kind where every loose strand of her grown out fringe was planned and there was a soft volume around the head and another strand of longer heir was wrapped around the hair tie. Meticulously hair-sprayed in place; not to hold against a strong breeze but she could shake her head without ruining all her work in front of the mirror.

The door to the bar opened, just as she lowered her drink from her painted lips and curious as after, she unconsciously caught the figure out of the corners of her eye; like he had done a couple times before, when someone had walked in. Only this time she was compelled to actually turn her head a bit more and steal an actual glance of the man. It had been over a year so she didn’t recognize him immediately. In that short moment before it sat in, all she uninhibitedly thought was how good-looking he was. His brut nature made him stand out.
Then their eyes met - she must’ve accidently stared too much - and it clicked. The expression in her face instantly turned into baffled surprise as she sat up more straight. Eyes wide and brows raised. Out of anyone this wasn’t who she’d think to run into. Maybe if she ran around in a forest far from the city, yes. But in midtown Aston? Her brows lowered again. Lowered even further until she frowned in his direction. Eyes a bit squinted. “You…” She had wanted to say something more but her mind must’ve realized that that one word was more than enough to express what was suddenly coming back to her. “You!” she repeated, this time a lot more confrontational.
Huh?
Seemingly out of nowhere, just as Maeve had imagine he’d walk over to her, the broad shouldered man turned around in a perfect 180 degrees. What?! He had seen her! Their eyes had met. Her drink was back on the table and rather quickly was out of her seat before without so much as looking back of thinking her actions through she hurried right after him. Thin heels clicking over the wooden floor. No way in hell that puppy was running away.

It was absolutely freezing outside. It was even slowing that evening and bolting out without her coat or even tights on her legs, she was the walking equivalent of a bad idea. She did hesitate a tiny bit when she first went through the door but the buzz had both made her stubbornness much more irrational and gave her body some make-believe heat. So she carried on. “Hey!” she called out, noticing him not too far down the street. Surely he’d hear her. He was a werewolf! Didn’t those have impressive hearing? “Do yo-..”
Maeve Poe wasn’t bad at walking in heels. Far from it. She could probably run a marathon in them and never stagger. But no shoe was really safe when the ground was slippery. Definitely not when the mind steering the steps were preoccupied. Her voice was cut off and replaced with a short-lived shriek as she suddenly found herself hitting the pavement. She didn’t end up all the way down flat on her face, luckily, but she did fall straight into her knees and hands. She sucked air sharply in through her teeth while slowly lifting her hands up from the ground, already anticipating the damage, however her palms were fine. A little red from the impact and the cold. If only her knee had been as lucky because as she sat her butt down on the ground and moved her bended leg around and up, a bright red scrape was very hard to miss. The grimaced at the discovery and looked almost deflated. Like a child on the verge of tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen, bloody hell! “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get back from Atheria?..” she continued, sounding rather defeated, although she had no idea if he was even there still. He had probably just kept walking and she was only focusing on her bleeding knee. Didn’t even focus on just how cold it was sitting there.

Maeve honestly didn’t think much of the sound of hurried steps being against towards her. If anything it was probably just someone passing her small pitiful figure there in the middle of the pavement. But then she heard his voice and looked all the way up at the large wolf man with big, astonished eyes, clearly not having expected her little unplanned stunt to work. It usually didn’t work. For a moment she just simply blinked at him before finally realizing the hand he held down to her and she seemed to glide back out of the bubble of surprise. She nodded as she reach up and took his hand, which was as firm of a support pillar as she vaguely could remember from that time last year. “Of course! What else did you think I was going to do?” she quickly expressed to his strange question while she got back to her feet in no time, thanks to him. Her knee hurt a little but she was a big girl! And she didn’t even cringe when she stretched out the leg and created those micro folds in the wound.
“There was no trains or busses going at that hour and it’s not like I could use one of those handy dandy magical teleportation devices so I had to get a stupid cab, which, for your information, was nearly impossible to ge-.. What are you-..?” Having gotten started on her rant, the human seemingly lost any focus on her surroundings once more and barely took notice of him squatting down in front of her, although her eyes followed him down there. She was simply too occupied. So occupied, in fact, that she also must’ve completely forgotten that one; this man would’ve absolutely no idea what she was talking about when stating she couldn’t use the teleportation of Gaia and two; she wouldn’t have known anything about these devices back then. It was, therefore, a bit of a miracle when he with such ease managed to shut her up so abruptly, that she instantaneously lost her train of thought when she felt the tissue run up her leg.

She was entirely baffled and instead of the instinctively step back one would expect from such a surprise, Maeve reached out and placed a hand on one of his broad shoulders as if to steady herself. She didn’t say a word. Not a single little chirp passed over her painted lips. She just watched. Stunned, for a lack of better word. And for a split-second, where the sudden fairytale-esque scene played out, the air wasn’t all that cold anymore. Luckily, it sort of captured her in a nice little bubble of only the two of them, where she wasn’t given a glimpse of that random bypasser’s phone being pointed at them shortly for a quick picture before continuing on their merry way.

He rose ones again and she shook her head lightly to center herself, looking at him with a slight confusion as to what had just happened. “Thank… you,” she hesitantly said, not sure if it was the right thing to say or what. He had clearly caught her very off guard. Defused the confrontational energy in her in an instant! Which was a pretty remarkable thing to do. Not many had that skillset. But apparently the wolf man did. “Ah.” Alright. She noticed the invitation to his arm and without further complaints, she wrapped her own around it and started following him back down the street.
It hadn’t occurred to her how far she had ran after him before looking back. It wasn’t several blocks but in a way, she could perhaps feel a little impressed with herself. To her, it had felt like a brief jog. Then there was the question whether or not it actually was something to be impressed with. Running after a practically a stranger like that. Hopefully that embarrassment was for the morning after.
Returning the doorsteps to the bar, Maeve’s curious eyes looked back up at Rafael. “I.. ehm..” Her brows got knittet for a second as she briefly looked towards the bar and then back at him. “Let me buy you a drink.” She smiled more confidently. “You came here for that anyway, right.” Before she had scared him off. She didn’t give him much say in the matter as her hand glided out of his arm and down it to grab ahold around his thick wrist and attempted to pull him with her inside.

Maeve, in her state, had for the most parts already waves her initial anger into the air, so as he started to explain a bit of his side of the story, it, at first, caught her by surprise. She had shortly turned to look back at him - her thinking she was actually dragging him along although it undoubtedly was him letting her - and it had probably taken her half a second to get what he was getting at which she was sure of showed on her face. He legitimately worried that she was still that hung up on it? Annoyed, yes. But only really went all other rational thoughts were pushed back.
She kept her eyes on him for a blink or two and then simply replied to his suggestion of a peace treaty with a rather carefree: “Sure.” She like that idea. Putting it past them. However she wasn’t so much a fan of his add-on phrasing. “In that case, you should take your time with that drink. I don’t know what’s gotten you so frightened. I’m not going to bite your head up. Not me with the sharp teeth,” she commented light-heartedly and satirically and even, as she back closer to the barstool and sat a foot on the support to elegantly glide up and sit down in it, she pointed a hinting index finger towards her teeth, which she showcased to him as well. Her canines were maybe a slight bit tapered but blunt while the rest were straight. Flat. She had trouble biting through a steak at times, let alone going much harm really.

At the same time, as Rafael had ordered his choice of poison for the evening, Maeve had slit her mostly untouched drink forward over the counter and asked the bartender for a new one. Just in case. No need for her to take any chances. And there weren’t even the tiniest of complains.
Within the time it had taken her to talk about bloody teeth, a fresh orange drink was placed in front of her and quickly thereafter in her painter’s hand and on its way to her painted lips. “I’m sorry to hear about your pack member. Broken bones are never a fun thing to deal with.“ She would know - she thought, not fully grasping that even werewolves healed much better than a plain human as herself. Lowering the drink and gently licking the taste of her lips, she turned in her seat and once again threw one leg over the other. Favouring the scraped one to be on top. However her eyes quickly returned to the wolf-man beside her.
“Hm?” What she was doing at Jeremiah’s? She put her glass down onto the provided napkin and was twirling the fingertips of her index and ring finger around the thin stem near the bottom as she thought of a good answer to give. “Abusing my privilege as an grown adult with a legal ID and a stocked credit card,” she then said with a growing smile. “And this is one of the best bars you’ll find in this part of central Aston. I used to come here rather often after work.” She leaned forward, placing an elbow on the counter and resting her head tilted in the hand while maintaining her attention towards him. “I like the atmosphere here.”

Maeve let out a small sigh. “But that’s not what you meant with asking, was it?” She had moved flawlessly around that one word. Alone. Whether she had actually done it intentionally or not, even she wouldn’t be able to say. Unconsciously, probably.

As the air had changed for the better, it didn’t get a chance to last for very long before it dropped again due to the bomb that suddenly was dropped too. Right into her lap where she couldn’t ignore it even if she wanted to. She could feel how her smile faded and how her lips started curling into each other. Luckily, she had somehow managed to not be looking at him when he had come clean, so she wouldn’t have had to actively turn her head away from him. What she felt wasn’t shame for knowing or expecting and for the one reading her expressions correctly, it would be visible. But it had made her throat close up a little bit, being confronted with the possibility. One she, honestly, hadn’t even thought of! To her defence, it wasn’t exactly what she was programmed to regard. Maybe she was too trusting?
After a second or so, she finally turned her head towards him and looked at him with almost sorrowful eyes. No tears or anything but she couldn’t hide that she felt bad. And perhaps also a little hurt? Hurt that he’d thought of her like that. Also, why did he have to make her think of Ethan tonight of all people?! “Is that really how I seem to people?” she asked straight out, not being able to keep herself from it. The words just kind of found their own way out of her mouth in the exact instant they had been thought out.
Maeve sighed and clapped the hand holding the drink together with the other on against the bar counter, looking away from him again and stretch her arms out as if half-pushing herself to sit up straighter. She drummed her fingers on the resin-covered wood. And then she let go and held both her hands up to him. “As you can see, I still have all my fingers,” she said, seemingly out of context – especially for someone listening in and didn’t know anything about the two adults. She wiggled her fingers for him but then lowered them again. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even my hunter friend, if you’ll believe me. Honestly, I wouldn’t even have known what to say. It’s very strange, I’ve to admit, because any other time I’d run to report …it. But it’s just different when the supernatural is part of it.” Discreetly, she glanced up at the bartender, who had moved to the other end of the long narrow bar. Another supernatural aware person wouldn’t bat an eye but people like her… It was always hard to know for sure who’d think you a lunatic. “You might not be a good guy but I’ve met those who were much worse than you, so don’t be too hard on yourself. At least you remembered my name. You should know how many guys have forgotten it.” With that, a smile grew back on her lips at the same time she turned to look back at him. The smile wasn’t at full power as before but it was neither half-hearted or fake either. Maybe a little tired. She decided on who she wanted to associate with. Rafael didn’t have much say in that.

He hadn’t meant anything about it? “Ah?” Her expression perked up in surprise of this; brows raised and eyes wide for a moment. “I must’ve read it wrong then. Apologies.” Her hand found her drink once more, a good place to keep one’s fingers occupied. She liked going for drinks because of this. The smooth glass felt calming and so did the vague bouncing of the leg resting on top of the other that occurred more naturally with the weight of her shoe. But then she stopped in the middle of taking another sip, suddenly feeling sick. She did her best to not show it, although her heart beat did make an irregular jump. Clover had turned to a bad memory. “No,” she replied when returning to the real world. She couldn’t help but make it sound very monotone and lifeless. “Life happened. And life really doesn’t wait for anyone.” What originally would’ve been an elegant sip, turned into a rather large gulp when she out the sugared rim to her lips. She gulped down close to a third of the drink in one go and she barely pulled a face when the strong alcohol ran down her throat. Drinks really weren’t meant to be chugged like that but who cared!
“It’s a shame really, though!” she proclaimed with more volume, putting the glass down with a deep breath. “I still think you’d make a good model for the fall issues. Or the late summer.” She had completely sweated that she hadn’t told him this the last time. How she had thought these things about him even back then. She had clearly wanted to, since she now had somehow convinced herself that she had done so. And also why she said it so unfiltered.

The sincerity he should was simply adorable, she thought. Sort of reminded her, that this rough-edged man might really just be a big dog in the end. Not necessarily a ferocious wolf which she suspected that he wanted people to think. It made her smile, giving it a little triumphant swirl too as she replied back: “You are very welcome, Rafael.” She proudly raised her chin a little bit as well. After that, even when she didn’t look at him, she could feel his dark eyes on her. Right there over the edge of the glass. A part of her tried to ignore it since it did bring about it some feeling of flustering embarrassment while the other part couldn’t help but absorb the attention. Bathed in the dimmed warmth. She wouldn’t deny that she like the feeling. Surely, any woman would. “Aha!” Theatrically, she pushed her brows all the way up in her forehead, as if a light bulb had just turned on in her mind. “That -” She turned to him and pointed a finger at him, or rather at his world-changing theory on her guy-situation. “- might be exactly the problem. I never thought of that. Always thought I had fabulous taste in men.” She was buttering it up heavily and if he somehow wouldn’t be able to hear the comical sarcasm in her voice, there was still the amused expression in her face, that she didn’t do much to hide. Especially not afterwards, where her smile only grew to compensate for the short laugh she had nearly let out.

She truly appreciated that Rafael didn’t poke any further into the matter of her job. She really didn’t like thinking about it. Having to talk about it to her psychiatrist was plenty of that. More than enough, actually. Had it helped to talk about it? In way, definitely. She was back at work. Back out in public. Hell! She was back at a bar, drinking! Whether she was drinking responsibly was a different conversation. One hopefully for another day then now. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy herself. Drown her reality.
“Huh?” The sudden confusion perfectly mirrored in the small human woman. Eyes blinking and looking a little like a dumbfounded hamster. “I haven’t?” It sounded unlikely. She must’ve. “It must’ve undoubtedly thought it then. I’m one hundred percent sure that I’m not mistaking you for someone else, sir. I didn’t get my position at Clover for nothing. I fully trust my eye for potential.” She took a very quick sip of the drink before putting it down properly on it’s dedicated square tissue and then, by pushing a little off from the counter, turned her entire body in the chair to face him straight on. She let her resting leg glide down and instead positioned them so her tights were elegantly pushed together and both her feet on the feet-rest. She cleared her throat with some determination and then looked him as if he was a project she was about to take on with both hands. “While you would benefit from stuffing your shirt into your pants you’re already dressing very fashionably. And you clearly wear the clothes without it wearing you which!..” She stopped her scanning of him to glance up at his face to make sure he was listening to her. “.. isn’t something everyone pull off naturally.” She lowered her eyes again, reaching out and grabbing either side of his blazer – that is, if he didn’t move further away where her short arms couldn’t reach even if she leaned forward. She tucked a little at it, smoothing out a very small wrinkle and re-balanced the front folds where it had become crooked from moving around. First when she was satisfied did she let go of him again and flashed yet another content smile. “Besides, you look like the prime example of a lumberjack. Handsome and rough. Sun-kissed. The joy hair and makeup would have with that mane of yours.” Had Maeve forgotten her manners? Yes. Had she completely lost track of what she was actually saying and to who? Also yes.

There was a saying that you wouldn’t be able to make someone laugh or smile that deep down didn’t invite the possibility, so was it really all Maeve’s doing? All she really did was bounce off from him after all. But it did certainly feel natural, also for her and it wasn’t only the alcohol in her blood. Her smile grew substantially and she might as well have laughed a short laugh when she almost shyly lowered her gaze from his with a small shake on the head. “Well, I best step up my game then,” she said and then looked back up at him. She was exaggerating. Her dating life really wasn’t that bad. It hadn’t been as successful as one could’ve hoped or she’d not be single and while she didn’t exactly look back on previous relationships – or could-be relationships – with fondness, she could’ve done much worse! She could’ve been like Cecilia and had a psychotic and possessive boyfriend who nearly killed her. Or had people leave without a clear break up. No. All she had was failed relationships that were just never meant to be. Anyway, despite the light-heartedness of the convocation, she felt slightly appreciative of his words. She deserved better! And sure as hell was she capable of doing just that!.. Someday..

Maeve watched him in awe when downing his drink and following his movement – the gesture to the bartender – she realized how that original promise of leaving after one drink had been, to her relief, either forgotten or ignored. Although, she hadn’t been sitting on sharp spikes and waited nervously for the time he’d reach the bottom of his negroni and she’d have to have to say goodbye to his company – she, for the most parts, had pushed it aside until now – she still felt herself relax a bit more. As if she’d unconsciously been worried all this time.
Attention fell back to the wolf and what he was telling. Was it wrong of her to not immediately feel pity for him? Because she didn’t. Her head tilted and her eyes took their chance to just look at him while his own were turned elsewhere. He’d come far; that was all she could think when she looked at him with what of his past she knew.  He looked more than healthy. In no way as someone who wasn’t guaranteed enough food most days. She couldn’t relate to it, either. Not as much as society would demand. But she sat right in front of the proof that it wasn’t like that anymore. But now? She smiled. Contented. “Good thing I quit my job at Clover, then, or I would’ve possibly been around your ears about it,” she mused with a soft sigh and leaned back so to swing her leg back over the other one again.
“Well, like I just told you; it means quitting my job.” A returning bitterness carried vaguely over in her voice and as she noticed it herself, she moved to not look at Rafael. Then silence as she sat looking into her drink. “It means months of therapy sessions and deteriorating bonds. It means my cousin now being -” She glanced innocently towards him, attempting a smile. “- like you. You know.. howling at the moon.” She looked away again and placed her glass to her lip. Another big gulp. “A pretty big deal, wouldn’t you say? But here’s the thing! I wasn’t even told about this ‘till days later when it was accidentally spilled.”

Oh no. She’d been good up until then. Keeping her frustrations bottled up out-through all of Christmas. She’d already blown up in the face of people directly involved but that wasn’t enough? “Everyone else knew,” she snapped, the exact moment the bartender had gotten over to give Rafael his drink. She didn’t even notice. All she could think of was how even a jerk of an ex boyfriend had known before her. Cecilia and Maeve were like sisters and yet!.. “Things have been rocky, yes, but wouldn’t you expect your closest ones to think you cared more than to let something like that get in the way? Especially when they already know that you’re going through something. One phone call!“ She held up a stern index finger and then shot it to emphasize the gesture. “One bloody phone call. And when I didn’t pick up? Well, too bad, right!
“Even if they didn’t want me to just be there, I could’ve done something. Helped out. I’ve done it before! I removed that link-what-ever-it-was! Actually! You know what’s funny? They don’t even know that it was me who did that! They don’t even know…” She was about to take another sip when she suddenly became aware that her glass was empty and the then didn’t take long before looking attentions-seeking after the bartender. Two fingers held up. Two shots of tequila. Might as well. She needed something stronger.

Maeve looked to Rafael. There was very little doubt left about this wolf being a much better person than she was. She was selfish and stubborn. And here he was offering help while all she really wanted was to dwell in the pity as if she had deserved it. She even felt jealous for a moment there before maturity came forth to drown it with reason. There wasn’t anything she should feel jealous of, that was just silly! It made perfect sense for someone in Cecilia’s situation to be given an offer to reach out to him. Wolves stuck together. For survival. With a bit of shame in her eyes, she folded her painted lips inwards and pressed them together while suppressing some feelings. He was a kind man – even if he had had his thorns back then. But you’re clearly hurt by it. Those words fixed a smile back onto her lips. An appreciative one, although she still wasn’t completely over the feeling of being the wrong one. It had been there the whole time, really, but his show of kindness and irrationality had only brought it further to the surface.
It was when she reached a hand towards him and placed it upon his to give it a gentle squeeze. His hand was warmer than hers, although not by much. It also felt rougher. Telling a tale of who of the two actually used hand cream on the daily. “Thanks.” She purposely didn’t assure him that she’d bring what he had said to her cousin. Not because she didn’t want to. But she still didn’t feel confident in that she’d be able to find the courage to talk things out with her and the rest. Not yet. She still needed some time, she’d convinced herself. She removed her hand again, pulling it back to her own space to not invade his more than she had already done.
She relaxed her arm on the counter instead. “Are you sure you’re not a dad?” she then asked, still gazing at him with a smile now a little wider again. It was a genuine question, only it was a casual one. “I can’t help but get that feeling from you. Helping me when I fell and now actually giving good advice to someone just in need of a rant.” Having children sometimes gave you such superpowers, she’d experienced, despite she hadn’t exactly embrace them herself that night. If that really wasn’t the case with Rafael, it’d surely show that he’d make a great parent one day. Or maybe it simply came from him being an alpha. A head of a family-close group. There had to come a lot of responsibility from there to.

The two small glasses being placed in front of her had her attention briefly turned away from the wolf man which apparently was enough time for him to pick at another passer-by topic that she in the midst of her rant, barely had noticed could be of importance so once again a sliver of surprise glistened in her brown eyes when swiftly looking back at him just as she’d taken one of the shots in hand. It was pretty much the same as when he’d poked at her comment earlier. Maybe she should feel more embarrassed about forgetting what she’d told and not told people. “Oh! Right,” she burst out and cracked a humoured smile. More than embarrassed, it was comical. Of course, he wouldn’t have known. “I didn’t even know back then. How could you.” Glancing at the tequila in her hand she quickly made a decision and reached over to put the glass down in front of him. “Remember how you couldn’t take away my pain? We concluded it was just that the pain wasn’t strong enough for anything to happen. Well!” She sat up a little straighter and her tone got a little prouder for a moment. “Turns out it’s not even that compilated. I’m just immune. To your superpowers, that is. Every’s superpowers actually. I’m not just normal. I’m über-normal. I can’t be affected by anything ‘supernatural’.” She held up two fingers and gestured a pair of quotation marks.
Lowering her hand again, she then stretched it out in front of her to look at it. Her painter’s hand, as she remembered having said to him before. There really wasn’t anything special to see. No slight blurry barrier to indicate her immunity. “The link was supernatural. All that was necessary was a bit of my blood.” She turned her hand around and looked toward the underside of her wrist. The bite mark was gone. Healed perfectly like any other smaller wound. Not even a trace of it.

Her eyes glimmered with a sudden curiosity. I hope not. Thoughts and questions quickly gathered in her head by that seemingly simply reply. But exactly what did he mean by it? That he hoped, if there was a possibility of him having a kid somewhere in the world, that he at the very least would know about it? That something like that wasn’t hidden from him? Or was it meant like he out right hoped he didn’t have any in general? That he wasn’t interested in that thing? And why the hell did the thought of the latter seem to bother Maeve even slightly? She could’ve cringed at herself for realising it but hopefully she wasn’t too far down in the alcohol to have lost all control over which feelings she showed her surroundings. Besides, it was hard to put a wrinkle on the nose when he returned a smile like that. “Yea. You’re probably right about that,” she agreed, feeling a little silly for practically having projected onto him. Because he was right. Maturity like he showed her wasn’t only given to those who experienced fatherhood. Much like it obviously wasn’t automatically handed out to those with kids. She was a great example of that, that was for sure. Especially not this night.

Her gaze was still mostly on her hand, when he commented on the usefulness of her abnormality. Anyhow it instantly made her laugh warm-heartedly. That was one way to describe it and as it would turn out, it was also one of the best ways she herself had come to see it. Useful. Convenient. It wasn’t anything flashy like everyone else around her and she didn’t even have to do anything to make thing happen. Could it even be called an ability as it was so innately a part of her? But what had made her laugh like that was something a little different.
“You almost sound like one of my fr-..” As she finally turned her attention away from her hand and back towards him, the sentence trailed off into a realm of blatantly forgotten words. The wolfman had leaned closer without her noticing, which, considering his broad size, was pretty surprising in itself. So upon realizing this, she then looked right at him with a mild bafflement. What was he..? Oh. Oh! She wouldn’t dare say she’d gotten her hopes up because there wasn’t anything to get her hopes up for! And she was sure, if she new him better, this concern he reserved for her would have been expected. Even knowing him as much as she did, it made sense. He was a very cautious guy, wasn’t he, this Rafael Silvera. So quickly the bafflement faded from her face – before cheeks even had the tiniest chance of flushing – and gave way for a softened smile that then turned discreetly cheeky as she said: “I guess I’ll have to stop being a frequent blood donor at the hospital then.” She said it jokingly then but if only she knew the proper properties of it all, she would probably be a bit more warry of such a thing. “And stop being.. clumsy,” she added and couldn’t help a little embarrassed smile before looking down to her leg. The scrape on her knee was red and obvious on her light-coloured skin but it had stopped bleeding without the need of a band-aid. The tissued he’d used had done the trick. She looked back up with a strategic shake of the head to move hair away from her face. “But luckily, that’s not how it works. It worked that one time but usually it’s just through touch. Like your fancy finger flame won’t – in theory – hurt me if it touched me. It’d burn my clothes, I think! But not my skin.”
She hadn’t tested the limits at all. Hamilton had wanted to but that man understood when not to press matters like that after… after what had happened.

She watched him accept the spirit and therefore reached out to her own as well, ready to take shot with him. Immediately when shallowing, she pulled an involuntary face at the strong alcohol. Tequila used to be her choice of poison but a lot could happen when not so much as touching the stuff for a year’s time. It wasn’t horribly but it was still a little like learning to ride a bike again, she felt. At least the buzz also kicked in faster now which was welcomed this night. She had, after all, come to town for the sole purpose of numbing the mind and body this way. The addition of Rafael’s company had only slightly altered that goal to something more restrained.
The small, but study shot glass clinked on the smooth bar counter, however not loud enough to be a call for another to the bartender, so the man stayed in the other end wiping his work space and leaving the two more or less alone. Jeramiah’s wasn’t a place for snooping ears. At least no conspicuously. “I wish I knew. I wasn’t really involved in the ordeal besides that it happening to someone close to me. For all I know it came down to being at the wrong place, at the wrong time,” she explained while gently balancing the empty glass on its edges. She thought back but she really couldn’t see any red thread stringing thing together. Cecilia had been unlucky, that was all. Caught as a catalyst to get to someone else. She sighed. “Even if I were to ever talk with the lunatic again I doubt he’d shine any more light on it either.”

There was no ring on her finger nor was there the slightest indication that there had ever been one. No white band from a ring shielding the skin underneath from sun exposure and no visible indentations that could come from wearing one for a long enough time. In fact, Maeve Poe wasn’t even wearing any ring that night. Or jewellery in whole. No neckless to compliment the deep front cut of the dress. No bracelets to potentially take away from the bare arms. She used to. But… not tonight. Not quite yet. She couldn’t.
It would be hard to say if it was purely the alcohol and bad decisions or if some annoyance and frustrations of always having to keep it hidden had somehow pushed itself too far forward, but when his question landed, she barely hesitated to answer. She looked at him shortly and then when she looked away again, she smiled warmly. And nodded. It felt good and that was all that mattered to her freed self. So, she continued. Elaborated. “A son.” It felt even better to say out loud. Her smile unintentionally grew a little prouder before her eyes returning to him so gaze a reaction although her usual nervousness had seemingly disappeared.

With the proudful smile already being present on her painted lips, it really wasn’t difficult for him to further it to an amused laugh to his review of her shenanigans. Bold was a good word to use, for sure. This time hadn’t been the first time she’d heard it being used to describe her. Bold. Stubborn. The list could go on. “What can I say? Your attention was urgently needed and a scraped knee was a small price to pay.” Looking back, it probably was the stumble that was to thank for sitting there with him now. Her voice definitely hadn’t done the trick. And the scaped knee had also granted her the pleasure of his arm on the way back to the warmth of the bar so it was indeed but a small price to pay. Besides, she’d seen worse cases on an almost daily basis with her brothers. Well, her brother and son. “Although, I feel like I have to make clear that I’m usually more elegant in heels! I pride myself on that skill. Usually,” she quickly pointed out. No need for him to get the wrong idea, now was there.

Now what was he doing? Maeve’s attention automatically fell on his hand as he slid it near her. Only he didn’t place it on top. Or… he did. Just not completely and frankly, that gave her even less of an idea of what he was doing until she felt the heat. For a moment she just watched his hand hovering above hers so to make sure that she was really feeling it and it wasn’t just the feeling of his usual body heat. No, the heat heightened gradually. Bafflement painted her expression. “No, I do fee-..” At first, it hadn’t felt hot. Just warm and honestly very nice and welcoming, something she’d not have refused had she still been wandering around outside. But out of nowhere it started to feel too warm and instinctively she pulled her hand away from under his with a sharp movement. “Auch! Bloody hell!” she explained loud enough for a few glances turning towards there way. Luckily, while the two was a sight to behold – one small and one large – other’s attention didn’t stay on them for longer than maybe a second or so. Not even when the small human leaned in and slapped the back of the same hand, against the large wolfman’s broad biceps. “You could’ve warned me, jeez!” She pouted disapprovingly but she wasn’t actually mad in the slightest. As she shook her head at him and looked down at her hand, she even felt a sense of fascination spike up inside her. She’d been ignorant, that was now very clear.  

He took the reveal well and it broadened her smile some more. To the point that the small dimples in her cheeks became visible. Like someone poked her cheeks with invisible knitting needles. “He’s seven. He turned earlier this year in September,“ she answered almost joyous. Pride still very much present. Her son was growing up so fast. It still seemed like only yesterday that he had been but a baby in her arms on that first day of his life seven and a half years ago. It was so surreal. Even more surreal that she was actually talking about the kid with someone. Talking about him in truth and not the convenient lie. It still scared her but the state of the night supressed it perfectly and her heart was content to not let the opportunity slip. Even if it would mean she’d shame herself for it later on when sober. But that was ‘later’. Not now. Perhaps she wouldn’t even remember.
As he questioned her priorities Maeve Poe simply laughed a gleeful laugh, brought up all the way from her stomach. One that coloured her cheeks slightly more flushed as well. He was most likely right about it in some way. But if only he knew how much truth laid in her words of urgency. Certainly, it had been exaggerated however, only to an extent. Not as much as one might think. More than she was properly aware of. She had acted heavily on instinct when chasing after him, after all.

Although the small human’s attention was a little everywhere, some of his reaction to her own reaction didn’t go completely by her. She noticed the slightly grimace of what she could only guess was to her choice of words and she eyed him a bit confused. Had he never heard a swear before? Or had he somehow gotten the impression that someone like her didn’t swear at all? If the latter was the case then surely, he would be in for a surprise. Maeve had no horrible potty mouth but she was no saint either. She tried to be proper for the most parts but it slipped. Of course, it did. Tsk! “I can imagine that.”
But then he started lecturing her – again – and this time it started to poke her the wrong way. The few times before her mind had easily just grazed over them as there had been other things. Maybe it was the repeated ’advice’, advice she’d heard on more than one account now, but the serious tone of his low voice annoyed her. So while listening to him, the pouting mouth had soured and her thick brows furrowed as brown eyes looked darting at him for a short while. At least until the two new shots came and gave her a good excuse to not grand him with her gaze. She didn’t say anything, though. Didn’t snap at him or expressed her pique verbally. Instead, she did had he and didn’t give the shot long to live before putting it to her lips and taking it with her head tilted far back. Another grimace. “Alright,” she abruptly exclaimed setting the glass down back down on the table and inaudibly clasped her small hands together, turning herself towards the wolf. So determined that there wasn’t any time to catch how the shot glass wobbled like it was made of jelly.
“Hold up yeh hand again.” For the first time in this man’s company, the lovely and chiming proper posh British accent that she always spoke with had gotten a bit of another flair as her inbred Lancashire dialect peeked through in her voice. The finer accent had been a lie, once. Now it came naturally but no one could really run from their roots. Not entirely. Not even Maeve Poe. And on occasion her tongue led her back there. It was also a great indicator to when she was drunk. She waved a hand for him to hold his own out towards her and as soon as it was within reach she grabbed it and modelled it how she wanted it. Fingers straight and palm towards her like he was gesturing someone to stop. “Now, do tha’ thing again with the heat. Make yeh hand all kinds of hot. Actually, can yeh make i’ straight burning?” she asked albeit it was meant as an instruction to do so if that was the case. She made sure to let go of him before he raised the heat.
Her eyes looked up and met him with that same determination that had started her experiment. If he was to debunk her theories, she might as well try and do the same to his concerns. “Hold the hand the’r. Don't move it.” She held up her own hands to emphasize and watched him deeply to make sure he understood. To convince him that she knew what she was doing when she then held up her down hand similarly to his – straight fingers and palm flat. Levelled with him as if readying a stiff high five. Her eyes fell to his hand. She wanted to land on right target and his face was far too distracting. Then if he didn’t waver and moved his hand away, she, in one quick movement, like ripping of a bandaid – she clapped her hand against his making direct contact. Something that had been missing before with his experiment. She had felt the high heat just before touching but as soon they were skin to skin, she felt no burning at all. Her strange immunity didn’t make his ability go away. It was still there but the supernatural effect seemed to simply.. stop when reaching her. So by being against his source she neutralized the potential harm before it came to her. Which also explained the need for a quick movement. Had she moved slow she’d have only experienced what he had demonstrated before.

Realizing it had actually worked, Maeve looked up again, up at Rafael and a wide, almost childish smile shun through unto her face. She unconsciously kept her hand against his. See?

Naturally, childish pride had started stirring inside Maeve Poe as she’d rather successfully showed off to the wolfman, showed him wrong – even though he hadn’t really been wrong in his worries or anything. However, that pride barely got a chance to actually manifest properly before being completely overshadowed by his beautifully tan fingers seeping into the crevasses of her own and momentarily linking their hands and in doing just that, also baffling her visibly. There was probably no amount of rouge that would mask the rush of blood that ran to her plump cheek in that short moment. A moment that undoubtedly felt longer than it was. It was a very warm moment and she could’ve convinced herself that her immunity maybe wasn’t that powerful after all; that was, if she had the state of mind to think that far. After he let go, her hand stayed hovering for a bit as her fingers curled relaxed and as she finally pulled it back from the air, she giggled quietly to herself. Giggled like she was at least 10 years younger again.
It'd been a long while since she’d felt fuzzy like that.

Brown eyes shot attentively back at Rafael. Fresh air? “I’ could use som’ fresh air. I’d love som’, actually.” Following her reply, she moved both her hands up to her face and did on attempt to calm and cool the heat that had gathered there by gently clapping her palms against her cheeks. Airing them out, as it were. “Yeh’re like a wanderin’ fireplace. And I might be a tee~nsey bit drunk already. Warms yeh right up that stuff.” She was definitely more than simply tipsy. She was of such small frame and had of course not been blessed with any accelerated turnover or what it was that granted people like Rafael a naturally higher alcohol tolerance. At least she hadn’t passed the state of gracefulness just yet, so although it was with some carefulness that she glided down from the tall barstool – on foot resting securely on the foot rest and steadying herself with a strategic hand placed on his chest for a short moment that even she didn’t notice she did – she had no trouble standing at all. Not with the scaped knee either. It stung slightly as she stretched out her leg and creating micro folds in the injured skin but it was easily overcome. Honestly, it had been her dignity that had taken a bigger hit at that time.
Fleetingly glancing over her shoulder and making a tiny little flip with her head to remove a loose strand of hair from her face at the same time, Maeve got a glimpse of the poor shot glass out of the corner of her eye and she cringed discreetly, quickly looking to the bartender who luckily had been occupied with taking Rafael’s order of beer. She’d apologize for that later..
She tapped out from the slim space between the chair behind her and the wolf in front of her before taking purposeful strides over the floor, already well on her way. With no jacket or nothing. In her head, this little excursion outside wouldn’t be long. Not since the man himself had just gotten a fresh beverage in hand; a clear indication that the night wasn’t coming to a close. After a few steps, she stopped and turned halfway around to look back at him. Smiling. “Raffy? Yeh comin’?” she asked cheekily and waited for him to come along. That was if he did. And he if did she’d follow him outside.

That new accent gave you away. Maeve Poe stopped right in her tracks for a moment before she quickly turned to Rafael. Her eyes had widened a bit in exaggerated horror to the realization which he could take one hundred percent credit for because frankly, she hadn’t noticed at all. Clearly. It was far from the first time and a part of her also already knew that she risked the accent from making an entrance when she allowed alcohol into her body but usually the people, she was around was so used to it by now that it was never pointed out as bluntly as the wolfman had just done and thus they just had ignorant fun with it.
She immediately moved a hand to her mouth. “Oh god,” she gasped, her voice suddenly sounding a weird mix of the two dialects despite the very few words said. “I’ must’ve slipped ou’d again. This is so embarrassing.” She instantly heard it herself as she started talking and simultaneously, she began reverting back to her usual, less embarrassing accent. Luckily, she wasn’t as drunk as having absolutely no control over it when first being a little aware so by the end of the sentence she sounded normal. Well, if ‘normal’ was a very slightly louder tone with some discreet slurring.

She didn’t even take note of the question he had followed up with as she was too distracted and even more than before, she was then very ready to go outside and get said fresh air so she barely waited the entire time it took him to get to her side before she walked the last bit to the door, walking in front of him rather than side by side. She’d also completely forgotten her small goal of having him open the door for her like a gentleman. She took that job instead, holding the door for him just as he poked at her spontaneous nickname. And it just melted shame away like that. Replacing it with a wide smile. “What? Raffy? Well, now you have. Enjoy it!” It hadn’t passed much quality control in her mind before it had been blurted out. Initially she had probably been meaning to call out ‘Rafael’ and then the child in her had taken over.

Carefully stepping down the step to the pavement after Rafael, she sighed audibly delighted and closed her eyes for just a moment so enjoy the prickly cold on her bare skin. It hadn’t felt like this when she had ventured out before. She had barely felt the cold when chasing the wolf, barely noticed she’d gotten outside. She’d only had one thing in her mind at that time. Getting offered a cigarette she first was about to accept, but then shook her head. Better not. Then as she less than hidden, watched him light his own, her eyes wondered to his beer and the lack of glass. It became even more apparent how their intentions had passed right by each other, when the man started to walk further down the street. “Ah!” she yelped. “I thought… Hold on. I’ll be right back! Stay put.” And then just as she was about to turn around she looked a bit more intensely at him, hands gesturing him to stay, she added: “Please.”
And she was off. Back into the bar. The glasses – including her nearly finished cocktail from before she’d started downing those few shots – were gone from the bar side where they’d sat. Whipped off and cleaned. Returning to the bartender she closed the evening tap; paid for the both as she’d offered. Lastly, she retrieved her coat which was far more fashionable then the one she’d pulled on before going into the forest that one year ago. One that fitted the rest of her ensample that evening.

She felt her heart in her throat when she hurried out again, worried he might actually not be there. But she had nothing to worry about. He was still there. In all his broad-shouldered glory. Almost breath taking but she kept herself collected aside for those still flushing red cheeks. “Good wolf, you didn’t run away again,” she had to comment cheekily as she moved to walk with him, now properly dressed for the winter weather and no obligations left at Jeremiah’s.
He walked a good tempo for her. A tempo a smitch slower than what her usual, actually. She was steady on her heels but the both were most likely still remembering the slip from earlier. The ground wasn’t as forgiving in the winter months. But in the speed, they’d sat, she didn’t need him to support her to not womble or anything. Still, she stayed close to his side as they went. Unconsciously seeking his natural warmth. Where did she want to go? The question had her first look at him and then forward, scanning the area. “Hm, I guess I would know the places to be better, huh. You’re not from around here,” it suddenly occurred to her. She looked up at him again, eyes very curious and big. “What are you doing in Aston? Aren’t you a very long way away from home?” The closes place, where he had left her to fend for herself that extremely early morning had been in Atheria, which, from what she knew, was a completely different country from where they were. A very small country that was very close but still; he’d have to cross a border to come and drink there in Aston. Had he come by car? She looked over her shoulder as if she’d be able to see all the way back to the main street and see the truck. But she saw neither truck nor street. Obviously, they had taken a few turns into smaller streets, so she returned eye contact to Rafael as they neared the lit-up fountain and breaths turned to mist.

The cheek of this wolf didn’t hesitate to make her break out a big, toothy smile. And for the time being, that smile would have to suffice until she came up with a proper reward. Because, he certainly deserved one. She’d known it from the first time she’d gotten acquainted with him but Rafael truly was a good man. Looking back, she was happy that she’d made a fool of herself to stop him. Who’d have known how quiet and uneventful and self-pitying her night would’ve continued to be if he hadn’t showed up! There was the possibility that she’d just have fallen into conversation with someone else – a typical tall stranger at the bar but the chances of it not having happened were just as big. Besides, had Rafael been someone else, then she would’ve still had their slanted parting from the last time to bother her when pushed back thoughts and memories overtook her on sleepless nights. Now she – hopefully – would not be haunted by those past mistakes. Now there were room for new ones.
The giggling persona that had waved over her earlier in the bar was still having its grasp around Maeve. After all, it was a very innocent feeling and thanks to the alcohol, she didn’t completely mind it so she was not actively supressing it. Unfortunately, it left her a tiny bit too inattentive to the pause in his reply. And the reluctance in the air around him as well.

However then the ball dropped and so did her face. In an instant! It almost felt like, to her, that she sobered up in record time although sadly it didn’t work quite like that. If it had, she might’ve been better to hide the opaque surprise from her face. “What?” Indecisively her head turned fast to look up at him, eyes wide and painted lips still apart as if her jaw essentially rolled around on the ground. “I thought that..” Oh no. What had she actually thought?! That this man would be available?! Look at him! Of course not! She suddenly realized that she’d unconsciously kept this man locked firmly in a box together with past statements. He’d told her that he’d not been successful on the dating scene and it’d somehow settled in her as him just not dating. Ever. As the realization hit her, she had to look away from him again and her face pulled an obviously cringing expression of shame before in a hasted movement, got hidden in both her hands. “God! I nearly made a home wrecker out of myself tonight,” she muttered in horror, her voice being a tad bit muffled by her hands. She’d stopped up and, on the inside, she wanted to curl up even more. This was a worse embarrassment than her accent. Was there anything she could do right?! Hopeless! That was what she was!

After some time, openly displaying her shame thanks to the wonders of intoxication, she finally pulled herself together and removed her hands and straightened herself up with a collecting sigh and a shake of her long bangs. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to undermine you like that. That was really bloody rude of me. I’m sorry to hear that you and your girlfriend had a fight.” One big enough for him to seek the bottom of a glass even. When she forced herself to look at him again – force needed entirely only because she was ashamed of herself – her eyes were the appropriately apologetic. As was the small smile on her lips. “Should you head back? Heh. You’d think me being a school counsellor now, I’d be the one to ask that, huh, but you might’ve forgotten that I went out explicitly because I didn’t want to deal with stuff.” It really was ironic. Maeve Poe. She was supposed to be the mature one. She’d had to be that her whole like. Grow up a little faster. How unlucky for him to have caught her just when she was having her rebellious phase.
She breathed in deeply and stuck her hands into her coat pockets as she quickly did a scan around them. Then returned to him. “Well, whatever you two fought about hopefully isn’t as bad that you shouldn’t be able to talk it through. So, yea, you should probably head back. However!” A sterner look fell over her eyes as she took him in. “You’re not thinking of driving back, are you?” Eyes squinted suspiciously at him.
One of her hands got pulled out of its warm pocket and held out towards him. Palm facing up in a clear gesture. “Here. Giv’ me your keys. I might be drunk but hell no, am I going to let you on the road. That’s how accidents happen! So, hand ‘em over. We’ll share a taxi instead.” It was probably not a bad time for her to end her night as well. Even though it was still fairly early. She gestured her hand some more to hurry him up. She was not about to take a no for an answer on this. He’d get his keys back later.