Alexis Eversly

She would've laughed at his pronounciation in French, if things had still been the way they had been, but they weren't. She could feel his anger burning hot, and almost felt like the door was there to protect her, instead of the other way around. And the worst part was he was right. She knew him, and had known he would just let her have her way. She had left him in the hospital, without a word, that much was true. But the healers had been there, his family, they gave him the support she could never give him and she had been scared. Of Rye knowing, coming for her, and of Mike's family. They'd know. Of her husband being dragged to court if she showed her face. But it was harsh to hear the truth so plainly. Nobody really talked to her like that. 
 
She pressed her lips together. She wanted to lash out at him, call him an asshole and all the colourful words in her vocabulary. Hearing him now made her feel even more guilty. "Mike." She frowned. "I..." She shook her head. "You're right. I should've come by, or written a letter or something. I was just too scared."

She came to check if her friend was okay, how sweet. He kept his stance, but lifted his hand off his wand now. She wasn't a threat, atleast. "If you cared you would've come to check on me in the hospital. Your husband did this to me for what we did. I'd thought you'd atleast pay me a visit. Emmerde-you too." Whatever the fuck that meant, it probably wasn't good if she chose to switch to French for one word. "I would've been fucking there if it had been you, even for a little but, but you didn't even write me. How sick is that. Neither you nor Rye wrote me. It doesn't matter what we did, if your friend almost dies you care enough to show your face." He felt the pain in his voice now but he didn't care, let her see how much it had hurt. She deserved to feel guilty for it. He knew her enough to know she would.
 
"I don't think you two really realise how it was for me. You used me to feel better, to forget about Rye. I used you to feel better too, to forget about Nehemia and Rye used me as a dummy to destroy to let out his anger. I couldn't go to the bathroom by myself for weeks, I could still feel everything move inside of me, getting back into position. You both didn't fucking care enough to show your faces, didn't feel guilty enough. I know what I did was bad, but had things been reversed, had Rye been with my girl, I would've kicked him in the balls, I would've cussed her out. But I wouldn't go and stab him, and if I did, God. I would be by his bedside that night to apologize." He was shaking with the anger he hadn't allowed himself to feel since it all had happened, wanted to slam the door in her face again, but he wasn't done with her yet.
 
"But perhaps I am just too eager, too hungry for love and friendship. That's what you sniffed out too. Had you tried it with anyone else in our group, you know it wouldn't have worked, but you know it would work with me and then you just played me and left me to die. You both left me to die." That's what it felt like, anyway.

Ouch. She hadn't expected that blow from Mike, of all people. "Je t’emmerde, no, I am not here for that, don't flatter yourself, dickhead. I work in the same hospital they brought you to and when I heard the description and what had happened I knew it was you. But I was too afraid to come see you then, to check if my friend was okay." He was so hostile, she wasn't used to him like that. Didn't think Michael Baker even had a hostile mode. He seemed slow and sad and sulky, only spun into action by love or lust. When they were with friends he was happy, but happy people didn't want to kill themselves, now did they?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about, did she want him to relay his trauma to her? How Janvier had looked at him, horrified at all the blood spilling from him, his inability to stand up? The derealisation when he realised he could see his organs? Or the moment when he woke up, the way his biological mother looked at him. It broke his heart hearing her cries. He couldn't understand the words she'd yelled behind his ear as she hugged him tight, but he knew what she'd meant. She'd lost him once already. It hurt him so much to know he'd hurt his mom that much. She didn't deserve it, after all she'd suffered. And Thomas had looked so furious, he'd never seen him that angry before. Kept saying he wasn't going to let this happen to his family, that he was going to contact his lawyers if he just gave the word. But Mike never gave the word because he still cared for Rye. He could've drug his ass to the courtroom, and the evidence would've been damning. His wounds lined up exactly with Rye's antlers, Janvier would probably testify if he asked her, but he couldn't. But he also didn't want anything to do with Rye or his wife anymore. 
 
"There's nothing to say besides that you kissed me. And that was my punishment for letting another person use me. I did what I did but you started it." He always let it happen, never said no. Didn't really feel he had a right to say no. People always used him for that. Married people, too. So Xati hadn't been any different. His friends hadn't been any different. He shouldn't have done what he'd done, but they'd betrayed him too. He thought he'd been safe with them. He'd never expected Xati to make a move on him, had never expected Rye to retaliate in that way. What was Rye's intention anyway, with that letter? "I really hope you just came here for a chat and nothing else, because it'd be really fucking sad if not. To come running for me after getting consent from your husband. Is that why you're here?" To take advantage of his want for attention again? Because he wasn't going to let her. In all honesty he was furious with her.

She nodded. "Good." Though she wasn't sure if she believed him. He was always hiding how he felt, wasn't he? That's how he ended up on the floor in her barn. "I was just thinking, maybe we can talk about it." 

She wanted to see if he was alright? What the fuck? "I'm fine." He said, rather sharp again. "That's all?" He didn't want her here. Thomas and Blythe were out with the kids and he didn't feel safe right now. Xati was the reason he'd almost kicked the bucket and he really wasn't wanting to relive those moments where the drugs the healers had given him were kicking in, forcing him to pass out, while knowing he was so close to the end. He'd tried to fight, but his body had betrayed him and he only remembered everything that happened then in a blur. Nothing hurt him, he wasn't there, and yet he'd felt so terrified. Feeling his heartbeat slow down so much he didn't even know was possible.
 
Just because Rye had decided he was fine with him seeing her didn't mean he wanted to.

She opened her eyes wide as the door slammed in her face. She didn't know what reaction she'd expected, but certainly not this. Mike was nothing if not desperate for attention and she hadn't ever known him to reject anyone's attempts. To contact him, too. But there the door opened again, but only a little bit. She could see a small part of his face, the rest hidden behind the wooden door, and a sharp question. "Nothing. I just wanted to check if you're alright." She said softly, feeling the guilt towards him seep in. The guy looked at him as if she was wielding a knife, and was about to break in. So on guard he was.

It had been a little while now since the fiasco in the bar. His wounds had healed into scars, his body worked like it should again, yet the feeling of impending doom followed him. Like Rye could show up at any moment to finish what he'd started. They weren't friends anymore, and Mike had realised after talking to Blythe he didn't really want to be anymore. There were a whole lot of other options Rye could've gone for, instead of the drastic approach he'd chosen. Thomas had urged him to press charges, but he'd said no, time and again, and since he was an adult there was nothing Thomas could do but shake his head in frustration.
 
He hadn't expected Rye on his doorstep, but there was one he expected even less. And she was there, right now.
 
He slammed the door shut upon seeing her, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He used the safety chain so the door only openend to a small gap as he held his wand that was in the back pocket of his trousers. "What do you want?" He asked cautiously. He wasn't interested in anything, was not planning on getting stabbed again. There was nothing he wanted to have to do with neither Xati nor Rye. They were bad news.

Ze hield netjes haar mond, ondanks dat ze zo verschrikkelijk van slag was dacht ze dat het het beste was om naar George te luisteren, want die klonk streng en, wel, ze wilde tonen dat ze geen emotionele heks was die zomaar kinderen sloeg, goed, emotioneel was ze wel, maar ze had dat rotkind niet geslagen! Ondertussen bleef haar begeleider haar maar wegduwen van het tafereel, alsof ze elk moment als een wolf hen aan zou vallen. Ze had niks gedaan! Zou iemand haar ooit nog op haar woord geloven? "Ik beloof het, ik heb niks gedaan!" Piepte ze zielig huilend naar haar begeleider, maar het mocht niet baten.
 
Ze probeerde wel naar het meisje te kijken, om te zien wat de schade was. Want ookal was het een leugend rotkind, een kandelaar kon hard aankomen en als George dacht dat zij dat gedaan had... Oh God, straks mocht ze hier nooit meer komen, nooit meer haar kind zien. En dan wat? Moest ze tegen hem praten, hem overtuigen? Maar hij had net gezegd dat iedereen stil moest zijn, was wat ze net gezegd had al teveel? Op een moment als dit miste ze de troostende woorden van de Stem. Ze was met Hem altijd iemand geweest, had altijd iemand om mee over dingen die haar gebeurden te praten. Maar de slechte dingen waren zodanig slecht...
 
Ze wou gewoon dat iemand haar een arm om sloeg, haar kant koos en voor haar vocht zoals Hij dat altijd deed. Maar ze begreep ook waarom niemand dat deed. Het was eenzaam, haar leven. "Je doet me pijn!" Piepte ze weer, maar haar begeleider leek alleen te wachten tot ze George kon spreken om zich te excuseren en haar mee naar huis te trekken. Het gebrek aan bloedtoevoer in haar arm was maar een bijzaak.

Als Maxwell zou weten dat Desmond het zo niet begreep, zou hij zich wellicht nog gepikeerder voelen, want hoe durfde hij verdomme? Hoe durfde hij om hem af te wijzen met een achteloze wedervraag en hem dan te kussen? Een tedere kus, zachter dan Maxwell gewend was, zonder een greintje hunkering. Een cadeautje als het ware. Gewoon. Dat hij even wist wat hij missen moest. Alsof Maxwell verdomme niet wist wat dat was, alsof hij zich niet allang voorhield dat er verdomme niemand op de aardbol was die hem graag zou zien op dezelfde manier dat hij dat deed. 
 
“Ik zie je later wel”, zei hij. De leugen rolde over zijn lippen zonder dat hij er überhaupt bij stilstond dat het er een was. Wat zei hij het over hem dat liegen zijn tweede natuur was? Moest hij zich daar zorgen over maken? Waar hij beter kon verschijnselen, voelde hij de behoefte om door de bomen van het donkere bos te wandelen, alsof de natuurgeluiden en de eenzaamheid hem iets anders zouden aanleren dan de feiten die hij al wist. 
 
Het antwoord was nee. 
 
OOC: Uitgeschreven! <

Damn. If there was an Italian man out there and Fiore would connect with him, that'd basically mean she'd leave the country. Well, that was certainly distressing. "I mean, I hope you do find a sweet guy, I just hope he'd British, or Scottish. Maybe I'm selfish but losing you as my friend is rather scary. But we could always write?" It was making her feel rather emotional and she laughed at her own stupid tears. "Oh my Gosh. that's so stupid. We're not even sure there's a ball at all." But it was scary.
 
She'd always been told to look forward to becoming an adult, marry a rich and nice man, become a mother, but the closer it got the more realities sank in. She might lose her friends. Hell, she hadn't met any man that had sparked her interest yet and the time was ticking. And she didn't feel ready, she didn't feel she wanted to. She always thought she'd start to want to. Maybe she was just the type of girl to marry for money and not love, and it would probably make her parents proud she was, but it all seemed rather scary. Perhaps it was normal to feel all that, to be terrified of the future. It was going to be fine. 
 
She used her napkin to dab her eyes.  Everything in school was fleeting but what mattered was what came after and somehow she didn't feel like that mattered. But she couldn't get stuck on it. "Agh. Stupid." She laughed it away. "What is this, tea'r-full tea?" She chuckled.

'I mean, I won't rule it out?' She shrugged. 'I'd prefer to continue to live here, obviously, but it's not an absolute dealbreaker for me. Though I guess it might also depend on the where of it all, really. Still, international travel isn't that bad, so, yeah, I would if need be.' She wasn't quite sure why Pen was so surprised about it all, but then, they'd never really truly spoken about it either. Not that she knew when it would've come up before, but... well... That didn't mean why it was so surprising.
 
'Italy,' she answered. 'For the most part, that is. Everyone on my mum's side is Italian, and half the people on my dad's are too. The other half are Scottish. Still, it means that most of my family is already abroad, so it was never much of a weird idea to move abroad to be with family, be it for a husband or for my own family, you know. We're all very close as it is, and if I were to like, find an Italian husband, there would be zero hesitation for me to move, because it'd also allow me to see my family more. Do you understand?'

"You'd move abroad for a man?" That was something important to know, if they were going to have an international ball. Maybe Fiore was the one that was going to get swept from her feet and taken back to France on a white horse. She'd love it for her friend, but she'd miss her. Did Ariel know about this ball? Maybe she could keep her away from it. All those foreign men were horrible, anyway. They would find her vulnerable spots and abuse them. Pen and Fi were strong enough to hold their own, but Ariel... No, she shouldn't come to the ball. The men in England were nicer anyway. She deserved a nice man.
 
"Where's your family from again?"

'I'll let you know as soon as possible,' Fiore promised. She wasn't quite sure when she'd see him or had time to ask if she did, for he was a very busy man, but she'd definitely not hesitate in letting Penelope know whether he knew anything about it. 'Because yes, we wouldn't want to wait with getting new gowns. Imagine all the good ones being gone already before we'd even have the chance!' No, they'd have to get there first, after all.
 
'I mean, surely we could?' she frowned. 'Doesn't London have great opportunities for a job? Surely those must be better than those abroad. Though, I suppose it would depend on what they'd do.' She frowned. 'Some jobs don't seem like you can move them, or quit them easily.' Royals, for instance, though Fi didn't think they'd easily run into them. 'Regardless, it would be good to make connections, in any case. It can never hurt to have allies. And we'd be able to say we danced with foreign people.' It would absolutely be something they could hold over other people's heads. 'I mean, don't get me wrong, though, for the right person it might be worth it to move, but, well, maybe I'm a bit biased in that regard considering half my family lives abroad, so I'm more used to it, I guess.'

"Definitely ask your dad. I don't want to miss out." And her father was important so if anything was happening he'd know. Perhaps he just hadn't gotten around to telling her yet. "Then we can go get new gowns." She smiled. She already had a design in mind for an international ball. A dress that showed the map and flag of the country of the person she was talking to. Like if she were to talk to someone from France, her dress would turn blue, white and red. Surely such a dress could be arranged, for the right price. She'd ask her father about it later. Maybe she could have it custom made, like the dress from the previous ball. It'd definitely draw some eyes.
 
"Hopefully, if it does end up happening, there'll be plenty of handsome bachelors. What a dream to be whisked away. Then again, I'd probably grow bored if I didn't have you two, or the English gossip. French or German gossip just isn't the same." And gossiping was like her favourite hobby! Life in Germany would be awfully bland. "Or we could convince the men to move here. Pout a little." She pouted at her friend to show her the way she'd look at her future husband to get him to move to England. She wouldn't want to leave Fi, and Ariel would be hopelessly lost without her. She couldn't do that to her friend.

He heard the click of the lock of Thomas' office. He'd never heard that lock been used before, and right after him leaving too. The phrase, locking me out, came to his mind and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. 
 
He wasn't sure if Blythe would want to hear about it. Maybe he was over reacting. Thomas was a busy businessman, had a big brand to uphold. Some times were just going to be busier than others. But it wasn't Christmas time, the summer vacation rush was over. And Thomas was being so secretive about it. Was he allowed to feel hurt? Perhaps he would go to Blythe. She always said he was welcome here. He just hoped she wouldn't lock the door on him like that too. He wasn't sure he could handle it.
 
Mike and Thomas (& Alex because sleep) out

That was it? He did his best not to look too annoyed but now he had to start all over and it wasn't like Mike had gotten any information out of him. Okay. Well. Time to start over. 
 
But not before he went to the door and locked it behind Mike.

O....kay?
 
Well, Thomas was still his boss. But he was more than that, he was his friend, family, which made this quite hard. Clearly Thomas didn't trust him, which hurt. Perhaps that was the danger with being close to your boss, but he'd never thought this would be the case with him. He was always so open, so kind, so jovial. He could always ask him anything, but now he was closed-off. He felt like he'd done something terribly wrong, but Thomas wouldn't even tell him why. "Okay." I guess. 
 
"I'm going downstairs. I'll let you work." 

"I don't know. I might do the next one too. I think I want to become a bit more active in the stores." 

Yet again, and I quote:
 
"????"
 
Was it because Thomas did not trust him? Why else would he not trust his counting? Why else would he be so mysterious? His reasons? It didn't make any sense. "Well, I'll do my best next counting so there won't be any mistakes." He said, trying to reclaim the stock count as his task.

Mike really wasn't backing down and Thomas was getting slightly agitated, he too hadn't been catching that much sleep, which made it worse. "All you need to understand is that I have my reasons." Which seemed like a nice enough way of saying it was none of his business.

????
 
Okay, but why? Why was he evading the question? Or was it Mike that was being too obtuse? "I only made a small mistake, I guess I just don't understand why you wanted to count the stock, when I always count it for you and there's never a problem." Like it was literally his job?

Well, that was exactly what Thomas couldn't say. "I just needed to count it myself in person." Was his explanation.

Right. Thomas wouldn't have known about the mistake if he hadn't counted. So that wasn't why he had done it. He noticed the annoyance, Thomas had stopped his work and now he felt like a big inconvenience, stumbling on his words, keeping the important person from the job that kept a roof over his head. "Sorry. I just came because I wanted to ask why you came to count. Since I always do it and there never seemed to be a problem with it before."

He could see the look in Mike's eyes and it kind of annoyed him. He chose his words as carefully as he could and yet he still seemed to spark that anxiety in him. Wasn't his fault, but he had enough to worry about. "No,it wasn't. I wouldn't have known about the mistake if I hadn't counted it myself." And why did he went to count? Well he wasn't going to tell Mike that. He loved the kid, but he was rather close to his wife, who was pregnant right now. Who he didn't want to burden with that big worry. So he'd rather keep it inside his minds and the books. He'd figure it out.