BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

12 ✰ Evening, October 5th

Magnus was breathing raggedly as he took off his blazer, throwing it onto a nearby stool. I tried to pry my eyes from his powerful form.

Keyword: tried.

Every inch of him was straining against the fabric of his white button up, particularly his shoulders and biceps. I'd never seen Magnus without his blazer on, and all I could think of was that all men should try splitting firewood for exercise.

The dressing room was of a decent size, larger than my shoe closet (which was saying a lot), but even with just the two of us in the room, the space seemed compact. No matter where I stood, Magnus was just an arm's reach away, and that unsettled me.

It didn't help that he was having some sort of breakdown.

I only hoped he didn't turn right there and then; my powers were too wonky to deal with a werewolf at present.

"Are you okay?" I moved forward but his glare stopped me dead in my tracks.

I must've looked frightened, because his eyes immediately softened. "I...apologise, I just need a second." There was a slight quiver in his voice, and I felt it like a dart to the chest.

Magnus leaned against the makeup counter behind him, ripping his tie loose with one hand and the other raking through his hair, and I chewed my lips at the sight. Thankfully, Magnus was already looking away, clueless to how affected I was.

The interview with Simon went awry, to say the least. It raised more questions than answers, and I was curious why the mention of Glamhurst and the Grasso Family bothered Magnus so much. I wasn't about to pry, though, certainly not after what happened with Simon.

We stood in silence for a good few minutes — Magnus staring at an invisible spot in the ceiling and me pretending (and failing) not to stare at him. His breathing eventually turned steady, his muscles relaxed, and he stood tall again, exuding that cool and collected aura all Alphas possessed.

"Lena," he said.

"Mr. Allan." I retorted, despite the butterflies in my gut.

"Lena," he said again, this time meeting my eyes. Suddenly, I missed hearing 'wee witch'.

"Wow, look who's back on first name basis." I shook my head and walked to the clothing rack beside him to survey the options I brought.

"I'm sorry, I just...wasn't expecting to see you today. Not after..."

I whipped to face him, realising we were now less than an arm's reach from each other.

Too close.

"After what?" I questioned. The car incident? I wanted to ask but bit my tongue.

The groves between his brows deepened. "Never mind."

"Is this how you treat all your friends? Kiss them one day and the next day you act like they're total strangers?"

"I didnae kiss you," he offered plainly.

"Hallelujah to that." I said tightly. "You know, Magnus, I'm really rethinking the whole friendship thing. On second thought, maybe we shouldn't be friends in the first place."

Magnus stared at me wordlessly, his expression everything but readable. Then, he said solemnly, "That's probably best."

He could've slapped me in the face and it would've hurt a whole lot less that that.

"Perfect." I turned my back to him before he could see my face fall. "Today, though, you're a client, so just let me do my job and we can get back on with our lives."