Double Trouble

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On the other side of Vancouver, another problem had to be fixed as soon as possible.

Grace VanderWaal didn't like to wait, and Finn too. Probably, that was just one of a few things they truly had in common. If Millie didn't come into the picture, who knows, perhaps he would have really started to appreciate her and love her in the toxic way he knew— but then, the spell wouldn't be broken and he would have remained a beast for the rest of his life.

"Finn, calm down." Lilia said, trying to carry on her shoulders each other's anxiety.

"Calm down? I haven't heard from Caleb in like thirty minutes... I told him to call me in the right fucking moment they would reach the airport." His foot kept tapping on the floor as his wrists were shaking.

He swore he could feel his own blood boiling in his veins; the fear of losing her devouring his nervous system. The connection he had with Millie was ambiguous, kind of magical: he always knew when she was in danger. A sort of spidey-sense, or Finn tingle, as Lilia liked to call it.

"There must be traffic." She gave him a reassuring smile, as she was helping him fixing his curls with some hairspray.

"Yeah, you're right..." He sighed, checking his Rolex.

The hand moved, the minutes passed by, and each second marked a wider distance between them. Soon, she would have been on the other side of the globe, in that little town nobody knew. She would have been treated like a princess, she would have had all the books at her disposition, she would have probably gone for a swim in the Tirreno sea...

The best, just for Millie.
But without him.

Who would have kissed her and told her "good morning"? Who would have helped her gardening? Who would have taught her how to ride a bike (she didn't know even if she wasn't nineteen)? Who would have put three sugar cubes in her Earl Grey?
Surely, not him.

"Come on, now that you know Millie is with two great people, you can now face Grace." She squeezed his cheek playfully.

"And look at you! Finally, you are decent."

Completing her work of art, she just put a nice velvet black fedora on him, letting a cascade of dark curls gently falling down his forehead.

"Hit me the fuck up when you've done playing dress up with me, Lilia. I am not a doll." He whined, fixing his hat better on his head.

"At least I know how to valorize your beauty." She said, dusting his shoulders.

She just loved caring about him, and the details. And a good outfit could help you in every situation, and make you feel a little bit more confident, especially in difficult moments; it was cheap psychology, and perhaps even stupid, but with her it worked.

Taking a step aside, Lilia proudly showed him how handsome he was in the mirror; he was dressed in black, from had to toe, with a tight lucid Saint Laurent shirt and trousers adhering to his body.
He pressed his lips together, biting the inside of his cheeks while Lilia encircled his hips with a belt.

As a loud clack snapped into the air, the housekeeper rubbed her hands satisfied, "You're ready. Thank me later."

"Yeah, thanks. I don't give a literal single damn about my fit right now. I just want my Millie to be safe, and... and," He sighed, rubbing his face in frustration.

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