BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

37 ✰ Afternoon, October 24th

"You should know, I'm against dating engaged men," I said, unable to get the image of Tara disemboweling me out of my head.

His grey eyes glinted at my words. "I'm not engaged. Not anymore," he offered plainly.

My jaw dropped. "Since when?"

"Since you told me you wanted me." Magnus' lips curved into a devilish smirk as he lowered his face to mine. "I'm a one-woman kind of werewolf myself."

A sense of satisfaction spread through my body, and I found it hard to keep myself from smiling back. Magnus nodded to the waiting crook of his hand. "Shall we go, wee witch?"

I hooked my arm to his, inwardly delighted to feel his warmth again. It brought back the memory of darkened halls inside LeCourt Manor—a memory I now looked back on fondly.

"Lead the way, big wolf."

✫

Despite living in New York for nearly three decades, my glamorous high-heeled feet had never trekked the streets of Glamhurst. Years ago, after Hugo regaled me tales of violent junkies and random stabbings, the neighbourhood became one of the places I steered clear of.

But now as I eyed the sidewalks, littered with artsy, hipster couples walking their dogs and families strolling around with wide smiles, Glamhurst didn't look like the lawless, blood-soaked site I initially envisioned. 

In fact, it reminded me of Brooklyn, with its' cheerfully bright street art and generational pizzerias lining up the blocks.

"A couple of years ago, you wouldn't even recognise the neighbourhood." Magnus' deep timbre interrupted my train of thought. He had noticed the shock on my face before I could reel my emotions in. I tucked a stray wave behind my ear to appear nonchalant.

"Honestly, I've never been to Glamhurst," I admitted.

"Out of fear for your life?" Magnus sarcastically quipped.

"And maybe a little high fashion snobbery." I laughed deprecatingly.

Magnus smiled at me. "Well, you're here now."

He parked his car in front of a building that looked both sleek and inviting with its' modern industrial style decor—from the exposed red brick walls to the black steel frames around the doors and windows. I exited the car in pure astonishment, never once taking my eyes off the building's beautiful architecture.

As we approached the front steps, I couldn't help but notice how Magnus stopped to exchange pleasantries with every person who entered or exited the building. He knew each of them by name, whether it was an elderly couple, a tatted-up teen or a young boy with SpongeBob floaters around his scrawny arms.

Once the boy disappeared behind the doors of the building, Magnus whipped around to look at me, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. 

"That was Alec. He goes to the pool every day. Wants to be the next Michael Phelps but I made him promise to wear his floaters until he was sure he could swim on his own," Magnus explained and I smiled, an unfamiliar warmth igniting in the middle of my chest.

"The Giulia Russo Community Centre," I mumbled aloud, reading the sign above the entrance. "Who's Giulia Russo?" I asked, turning to Magnus.

He flattened his lips, looking unsure. Just when I was about to say something, Magnus uttered, "My mother."

I softened my gaze and nodded in understanding. "She would've been so proud of you, Magnus."

"I hope so," he said, digging his heel into the ground awkwardly. When he made eye contact again, he looked apologetic.