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Raegan glanced over at him as the car pulled away from the curb, the dim streetlights flickering through the window and brushing his face in fractured light. He was quiet again. Not the sort of quiet that meant he was content or lost in thought — no, this was that hollow, unreachable kind of quiet. The kind that made her feel like she was sitting next to someone slowly slipping under water, and she couldn’t tell if they were going to resurface. She wanted to ask him, flat out, what was wrong with him. What exactly was making him sick. Why he wouldn’t survive. Why he was dying as they spoke. The words were right there, sharp and ready. But she held them back, fingers tightening slightly in her lap. He’d only just come back into her life, and she wasn’t about to scare him off by pressing too hard, too soon. If he wanted to talk, she’d be here. If he didn’t, she’d still be here. She tried to keep her eyes forward, to give him space, but she caught his reflection in the dark glass — the faint crease between his brows, the way his gaze wasn’t really on anything. It hit her in a way she wasn’t ready for, like a crack opening in her chest. He wasn’t just tired. He was… somewhere else. Somewhere far away from her. And she couldn’t follow him there, not yet. His voice broke the silence when he offered to pay her back for the ride, and she almost snorted. Almost. “You’re not paying me back,” she said softly, but firmly. It wasn’t about money. This was about getting him home, having something to look forwards to... a nice dinner or something that he didn’t have to worry about. “It’s a treat. Please don’t worry about it,” she sighed. She could have argued — could have told him how ridiculous it was to even bring it up — but she didn’t. She could feel the walls around him right now, fragile but high, and she wasn’t going to shake them just to make a point. Then came the card game. The way he said it — quiet, almost hesitant — made her throat tighten. That wasn’t about cards. That was about him not wanting to be alone. She swallowed down the sting in her eyes before it could get too obvious. “Yeah,” she murmured, offering him the smallest smile she could manage without breaking. “We’ll play.” She wanted to tell him she’d stay as long as it took for the shadows in his eyes to ease, but she didn’t. Instead, she let her tone carry the promise. If he wanted to play cards for however long he had left... so be it. The rest of the ride was filled with quiet, but it wasn’t heavy. She made a passing comment about the driver’s impressive skill at dodging potholes, just to see if she could get that faint flicker of amusement from herself again. When the car turned down his street, she found herself leaning slightly forward, eyes flicking to the occasional house that seemed to be bigger than she could even begin to fathom. And then they stopped in front of his. For a second, she just stared. She’d known he had money — you couldn’t know Axl and not know that — but the place still caught her off guard. It wasn’t just big; it was… warm. Inviting, in a way that made her chest ache. She could almost smell the pine and faint burn of the fireplace through the glass. It wasn’t the kind of home that looked lived in by accident. She hadn’t been here before, but it wasn’t exactly hard to find out where he lived, not by a long shot. She didn’t comment right away. She didn’t want him to think she was impressed by the size or the wealth. But she did let herself say, as they stepped out, “It’s… really you.” Because it was. Every detail she could see through the windows looked like him — quiet, sharp, and yet, unexpectedly warm. She had the sudden, irrational thought that if she could just keep him here, surrounded by the things that felt like him, maybe he’d be... she didn’t even know. As they walked toward the door, she kept her pace even with his, resisting the urge to reach for his arm. She was here to make sure he stayed grounded, to make sure he stayed him, but she also wanted to make sure he wouldn’t just disappear. If felt like he would. And if that meant playing cards until the sun came up, she would. Because losing him — even just to his own mind — wasn’t something she could handle. Not again |
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Axl was just about ready to pray to whatever god was up there, if any. He was desperate, because he didn't know what to do. An idea sparked in his mind, something he would've never considered before now, something he would hate... but something that may help. He may not know emotions or people, but a therapist would. If he found a good werewolf therapist, explained to them the problems he was having... maybe, just maybe, they could tell him how Raegan would react. Of course, they couldn't predict anything, and every person would react differently... but maybe they could say if one option was better than the other. Maybe it was super obvious and he just wasn't seeing it. He hated therapists with all his heart, having been forced to go to one till he was 18. He wished never to sit in that office and be scruntinized any more. However, he would do anything for her. Anything. This was a glimmer of hope in the darkness in his mind. With this harbored in his thoughts, he pulled out his phone and quickly went to his therapists page, his eyes flitting over the available appointments. They knew him, somewhat, even though he had been rather closed off. They were a werewolf. They could help. He found one for the very next day, taking the time to schedule and pay for it right then. Now he couldn't not go. This could help. He just needed a fresh set of eyes. Someone that shouldn't judge, even though he couldn't quite believe they wouldn't. His eyes flitted to her when she looked likle she restrained a cough, or a snort, a small sigh escaping him. He didn't need a treat. Her being there was quite enough. Yet why argue when he could just silently feel guilty for the next week or two? He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat, feeling at least 50 years older than he was. Why couldn't he have been a little boy in Blue Ridge clan, ignored by all, working for every dime? Someone who made their own food because it was cheaper, not because they wanted to? Someone that no one hated, because they were too small town lovable? Someone that never was on the news, and didn't particularily like reading it? He wanted to be that someone. Someone like her. Someone that had the entire clan backing them up because they were loved. Instead, he fought for every morsel, clawed his way to the top, stood while he was screamed at and cursed. He took the hate, plastered his face on every newspaper, and worked from dusk till dawn. He ordered food because he had so much money he could drown in it. Most days he didn't even want to eat. What was the point anymore. The way he was living was downright miserable. So many people foolishly thought money was happiness, but they were all wrong. He was happy when he was with his mother and sister, on a tiny farm in the middle of nowhere, broke as hell and eating food they grew. He was happy when he was accidentally getting arrested with Raegan because they had done something stupid. He had never been happy because of money. Something akin to relief crossed his face when she agreed to play a card game. He could focus on her and whatever stupid game they decided to play and not having to worry about dying in his own mind. He could leave all the worrying to Harrison, his therapist. He could almost hear the promise in her tone that said she wouldn't leave unless he wanted her to, and it made him really, really thankful to have her as a friend. Without her, he definitely wouldn't be in the same place right now. Granted, he also wouldn't be worrying about hurting her, but that was a problem for another time. His eyes slowly drew across every house they passed, the familiar walkways and siding putting his mind at ease. He knew where they were, and he could ground himself in the fact that this was a familiar place. His neighbors, Keith and Sally, were great people, and would definitely bake him cookies if he asked. His other neighbors hated him, but that wasn't the point. They had never met him other than seeing him in the news. It was their own fault for being jackasses. He watched his house come into view and visibly relaxed a little, glad when the car stopped. As he climbed out, he heard her small comment, his gaze flitting to her and then the house. It was big, but it ... well, it looked comfy. Quiet. Cozy. Like a cabin in the woods, in a way. The front was designed almost like a fireplace- hear me out- with bricks around the door, a small roof stretching overhead, and two dark pillars. The rest of the front was covered in dark reddish brown siding, with windows evenly placed. Everything was familiar. A small smile formed on his lips as he mulled over her words, not responding but knowing the smile was likely enough. Axl started towards the door, keeping her in his peripheral vision so that he didn't move too fast. He got to the dark door and pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocking it (the olde fashioned way) and opening it before stepping inside. He held it open for her, then shut it slowly, hearing the click. The familiar smell wafted to him, which was the best part of this whole thing. He was sensitive to smell, as mentioned before, and it was very important to him, so his home always smelled amazing. At least to him. Like a pine forest, with the slight smell of burnt wood from the fireplace. Something that would help would be that fireplace started, so although it wasn't that cold out, he immediately took off his boots and headed towards the living room, setting some wood in the fireplace and grabbing a nearby lighter to start it. Once it slowly started going, the crackling filling the air and the calm smell filling his nose, he stepped back, pausing for a long moment. His house wasn't absolutely humongous, but it wasn't small. When you first entered, it was almost like you were in a cave, as the second floor ceiling was above you. However, if you walked forward, it opened up into the living room, which was honestly giant. The ceiling was high above. Three couches were arranged on a black rug in a circle shape around the huge TV, two chairs at the closest corners, farther from the TV. End tables adorned each couch, with a bigger table in the middle, all make out of dark wood. To the right the floor changed from smooth oak to hard flooring, and you went back under the second floor. The kitchen was well lit, with a long island in the middle and lots of counter space. To the left the stairway started, wrapping up and around. If you went up, the second floor wrapped around the living room, a smaller area above on the far corner. A single couch and two beanbag chairs were nestled here, along with a small TV and a second fireplace. There were doors lining this area. In the first was an office, obviously. The second a bathroom, the third an extra bedroom. Small, well made, clean. If you went back down the stairs, you could go behind them and also go downstairs. Here it was just a longish hallway, with extra doors. On the end it opened up into a gameroom of sorts- there was yet another TV and a single couch facing it, a pool table, exercise equipment, you name it. A dartboard hung on the wall. A bar wrapped around the left side, drinks in the wall behind it. Just coming down the stairs, all the doors were closed but on, the first on the right. Here was the master bedroom, rather bland, to be honest. There was a king sized bed with black sheets, a small TV, a desk, and a chair. Overall, it was plain. A door in the corner led to the bathroom, another to the closet. The second door on the right was another bathroom, but the two on the left were both locked. Axl scanned the room before sighing, a more content sound now, and opening a cabinet in the wall, revealing neatly stacked games with cards in the corner. He selected the cards and gestured for her to walk to the living room, where he set the cards on the table and started shuffling. "Pick your poison... which card game would you like the play?" He seemed more cheery, but there was still an underlying haunted look to his gaze. |
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Raegan followed Axl up the walkway, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel path, eyes sweeping over the house in front of them. She’d imagined his place a hundred different ways since they’d reconnected — sleek penthouse downtown with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view of the skyline, maybe. Something cold and modern, all chrome and glass, because that’s how she’d pictured his life after all these years. But this… this wasn’t that at all. It was warm, inviting, almost rustic in the way the brick framed the front door and the dark pillars stood like sentinels on either side. It felt lived in, not curated. And for a moment, she struggled to picture him here. Not because it didn’t suit him — if anything, it suited him too well — but because the man she knew as a teenager, the one who used to laugh so loudly he’d get them both in trouble, didn’t seem like the type to retreat into somewhere so quietly domestic. She caught herself wondering what it would look like if he weren’t here. If the windows were dark and the air inside was stale, if strangers moved in and stripped it of its small touches — the way the front steps were swept clean, the faint glow from the lamp by the window. The thought made something twist sharply in her chest, an ache she swallowed down before it could rise too far. She was here now. He was here now. And she wasn’t about to let her mind go spiraling into that kind of what-if. When he unlocked the door the old-fashioned way and stepped inside, she followed, letting the scent of pine and faint burnt wood wrap around her like a blanket. It was the kind of smell that made you want to breathe deeper, to linger. She stood there a moment, toes just past the threshold, taking it in while he moved with quiet purpose toward the fireplace. She watched him kneel, the light from the kindling flickering against his face, and she thought about how strange it was that she’d never seen him like this — not behind walls, not in his own space, not stripped of the outside world’s eyes. He looked… softer here. Almost at peace, though the shadow in his gaze was still there, buried under the motions of building a fire. The house opened up around her as she stepped forward. High ceilings, couches arranged in a welcoming circle, a kitchen that looked like it had seen actual cooking rather than just takeout boxes. It felt… steady. Safe. And that scared her a little, because it made her realize just how much she wanted him to stay in it. The idea of someone else living here — some faceless stranger putting their feet up on his coffee table, stacking unfamiliar mugs in his kitchen — was wrong in a way she didn’t want to think about too long. He disappeared for a moment, and she heard the quiet click of a cabinet before he returned with a deck of cards, moving toward the living room. His voice broke the soft crackle of the fireplace: "Pick your poison... which card game would you like to play?" She managed a small smile, but her eyes stayed on his face, reading the faint tension at the edges despite his lighter tone. “Hmm…” she murmured, settling into one of the couches. “Blackjack. Let’s keep it simple. I’m not ready to let you win just yet.” The joke came out softer than she intended, not because she didn’t mean it, but because her chest still felt tight. She wanted to keep him talking, keep him anchored here with her in this room, instead of drifting off into whatever shadows had been clinging to him since they’d gotten in the car. As he shuffled, she leaned back, letting her gaze wander again over the space. The more she looked, the more she could see the parts of him tucked into it — the quiet order, the way everything had a place, the understated comfort of it. It wasn’t a house that screamed for attention. It was a house that let you breathe. And she hated that she could imagine walking through it one day and finding nothing of him left. Her throat tightened, and she looked back at him quickly before the feeling could take root too deeply. She’d spent her entire career delivering bad news, holding herself steady while the world fell apart for someone else. She’d been the one to keep her voice level when she told a family their loved one wasn’t going to make it. But this — this was different. This was him. And if the worst happened, she didn’t know how she’d hold it together. She forced the thought away, reaching for the cards he dealt her and setting them neatly in her hands. “Your deal better be fair,” she said lightly, though her eyes softened when they met his again. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight. Not until she was sure he was okay. With that thought in mind, she made sure to order... something for dinner. She'd decided on getting some indian, and ordering a whole feast of stuff to be delivered in a few hours. That should be fun for him, right? She didn't know. As he started to shuffle, she let her gaze drift again across the living room. It wasn’t at all what she’d imagined for him back when they were teenagers. She’d pictured sleek lines, glass, the kind of place you bought just to prove you could. Not this. Not brick around the door and pine in the air. Not a fireplace glowing like it had been waiting for him to come home. And God, she hated herself for it, but she couldn’t stop picturing the house without him. The lamp by the window dark. Dust settling in the corners. Some stranger dropping their keys in a bowl by the door, not knowing — or caring — who used to live here. She forced the thought away. He was here now. That had to be enough. |
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Axl found himself slowly looking at the whole house, his comfort slowly being replaced by flat out dread as he realized he may not be here long. It would be sold to some stranger who would not take quite as nice care of it as him. He could imagine the small amount of things he had, gone. The lights changed out to be white instead of a warm yellow. The fireplace replaced with a fake one to make it easier. The soft couches replaced with leather ones. His fuzzy black rug taken away. The special wooden floor he had put in replaced by carpet. The moose head he had hanging about the fireplace, gone. Replaced by a picture. A portrait. His whole life, erased in an instant. The only remnant being the memories of the few people he managed to impact in a good way. He swallowed down a wave of nausea as he sank onto one of the couches, a full body shudder going through him. All his special wooden furniture replaced with things harder to scratch and ruin. His fingers ran along the edge of the table in a reminiscent way, memories flickering through his mind. Once he had Keith and Sally over for supper- they insisted, he wasn't happy about it- but they made the best lasagna he had ever eaten and they had sat around this table and drank coffee and just chatted. The amount of people that just wanted to chat with him he could count on one hand. If he lost fingers. He had a person custom make every piece in here to his specifications, with wood from the trees up in Minnesota. It reminded him of his time up there, and he loved every second of it. The explanation of the smell was partially because of all the wood, but also because of scent things he had everywhere to make it smell like a pine forest. He had always loved pines so much more than whatever scraggly cactus' they had down here. Pathetic. No, the towering pine groves in northern Minnesota were his love. The smell was calming and brought good memories back to him. The thought that it all may be gone, however? Terrifying. This smell being replaced by cigarette, or alcohol, or even just normal people. Eugh. No. His nose wrinkled in pure disgust at the thought and he shook his head and focused on the card game. When she answered Blackjack, he snorted quietly. "I happen to be quite good at that, but I guess I can purposefully fail so you feel better about yourself." He mused in a semi-serious manner, his slight smile proving he was joking. He started dealing out a hand, handing it to her and rolling his shoulders back slightly as he got it all ready. Her comment about his deal being fair got her a sidelong glance, a quiet laugh escaping. "I can't believe you view so lowly of me that you think I'd cheat. In a no stakes card game. Tsk tsk." He shook his head with obvious disappointment, purposefully reshuffling the leftover cards with a pointed look and setting them back down. He flipped one of his cards upright and set both on the table, looking at your. "Your turn first, madam." He drawled, lacing his fingers together and sitting back, watching her carefully. If he could totally blow her away at Blackjack, teasing her about it would totally cheer him up. Axl thought absent mindedly about sleeping, and hoped he'd be able to get some tonight. However, he had to stay with hr until he was tired enough to fall asleep right away, or he would start thinking about everything and not be able to fall asleep. Hopefully his memory foam bed and comforter he had since he was 4 would be enough comfort for him to pass out. And not wake up until he had to go to his appointment. He was not going to start thinking about disappearing and he was not going to wonder who would get this house after him. He was not going to think about how he would tell her or if he would tell her. He was merely going to play a game of cards. |
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Raegan leaned back into the couch cushions, feeling the gentle give beneath her as the scent of pine and woodsmoke wrapped around her like a well-worn blanket. There was a steadiness to this place that made it feel like it could hold its ground against the chaos of the outside world, and maybe that’s why she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. The warmth here seemed like it should keep everything bad at bay. But even as she shuffled the thought around in her mind, a flicker of unease ran through her. She’d walked in ready to keep things light — to smile, to poke fun, to pull him into something easy and familiar. She’d spent too many years in rooms where her role was to speak softly while telling people the very worst news of their lives. That was the part she could do on autopilot. This? Sitting across from someone she cared about and feeling that quiet dread claw at the edges of her chest? That wasn’t in her training manual. So, she anchored herself to the small, ordinary details. The way the cards felt in her hands. The way the faint firelight made the wood in the room glow richer, warmer. The way the air seemed heavier with that forest scent, as if every breath she took here could make her forget the hospital’s sterile smell for just a while. She chose Blackjack without hesitation. It was simple. Familiar. Safe. A game she could use as a distraction, a way to fill the space between them with something other than the questions pressing at her tongue. She’d tease him if she lost, gloat if she won. It didn’t matter which way it went — only that the game kept going. As the first cards landed in her hand, she glanced at him again, trying to read what was left unsaid. She could see the faint tension in the set of his shoulders, the kind that didn’t come from a bad hand of cards. Her chest tightened, but she forced her mouth into an easy smile. She tapped her fingers against the table and leaned forward, sliding one card closer to herself. She wasn’t going to ask about the shadow in his eyes, not yet. Instead, she decided to circle around it. Give him something harmless to latch onto. Something that didn’t demand an answer he might not want to give. “The horse show,” she thought suddenly. The one they’d talked about. He hadn’t sent her the schedule like he’d promised, and she’d made a mental note to remind him — gently, teasingly, like it was no big deal. She could make it sound like a joke, but underneath, it would be an invitation. A tether. She pictured the event as she imagined him explaining it to her — a sprawling arena buzzing with activity, the air heavy with the scent of hay and leather, and people leaning casually over the railings wearing wide-brimmed hats she didn’t quite know how to describe. She wasn’t sure what exactly made a Friesian different from a Thoroughbred — or if those were even the right names — but she’d joke that he’d have to be her guide, since she was a total novice here. She could see herself teasing him, daring him to guess what kind of horse they were looking at, knowing she’d probably get it all wrong. Maybe she’d pretend she knew something just to keep him on his toes, or that she’d need constant hints, and if he was lucky, she’d make him buy her one of those ridiculous oversized hats just for putting up with her clueless commentary. She imagined the food stalls lining the edges of the arena, and how she’d warn him about the overpriced turkey legs she was certain he’d cave in to anyway — the way he always did when food was involved. It was a good thing. She’d be there with him, if he even wanted to go now. He had to, right? He couldn’t wallow in self pity for the next year... he had to at least try and live life to the fullest, right? Her cards shifted in her hand, the faint whisper of paper on paper grounding her for a second. She glanced down at them, then back at him. He was still here. Still across from her. And yet, that thought she’d been avoiding earlier — the one about the house without him — pressed back in, harder this time. She’d seen too many endings. She knew exactly how fast a home could become nothing more than walls and empty air. She’d pictured walking into this one and finding it cold, dark, stripped bare of everything that made it his — the soft glow from the lamp gone, the air smelling of nothing but dust. She could see strangers here, replacing the furniture with things that didn’t fit, painting over the warmth. Erasing him. The ache in her chest sharpened, and she looked down at her cards again before her expression could betray her. She was not going to let herself unravel in the middle of a card game. Not when he needed her to be the steady one. She adjusted in her seat, curling her fingers around her hand as if the simple weight of the cards could keep her grounded. She’d stay light. She’d keep talking about the horse show, about ridiculous hats, about carnival food. Anything that kept him here with her, in this moment, instead of wherever his mind might want to wander. Her gaze flicked up to meet his briefly, and she offered the smallest smile she could manage without it looking forced. It wasn’t the full grin she’d walked in with, but it was enough. It had to be. She’d keep the game going for as long as it took. Because losing him — really losing him — wasn’t something she could let herself imagine for long. Not without breaking. And if that meant talking about horse shows and turkey legs until the sun came up, she’d do it. If it meant playing Blackjack hand after hand until he forgot whatever weight he was carrying tonight, she’d do that too. Raegan’s fingers hovered briefly over the cards, the soft weight of the deck grounding her as her mind wrestled with the game’s familiar uncertainty. She inhaled slowly, drawing in the warmth of the room and the quiet crackle from the fire as a steady rhythm beneath her nerves. The flickering light danced across the smooth backs of the cards, inviting her to decide, but her gaze flicked up to the table, eyes catching the two cards face-up before her — a modest hand, not quite promising, not yet desperate. The room seemed to narrow, the edges of everything blurring except for the simple truth of the moment: she had to act. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she reached out, selecting a card with careful deliberation. Her fingers closed around it, firm but tentative, before she laid it down softly onto the table, the faintest whisper of movement against the wood echoing in the stillness. She glanced up, teasing, “Don’t get too comfortable—I’m just getting started. I’m going to ruin you in Syle, Jager!” She chirped, trying to bring her own excitement up. |
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Axl was 100% determined not to get lost in his thoughts. On the contrary, he was going to be almost as hilarious as usual. He knew if he believed hard enough that it could come true, so he was going to do just that. He was going to make jokes and grin at her, and hope his smiles could make her happier. Because every glance he gave her, she looked even more depressed. She was getting lost much like he was, for different reasons. She was dealing with the fact that he was dying, and he had almost completely moved past that small nugget of information at this point. No, he was busy trying to figure out the othr looming issue. Back to her, he was worried. Worried about her, worried that she wasn't going to survive the night without bursting into tears. Her eyes seemed perpetually shiny, her face drawn tight like she was trying her hardest not to break, to be strong. He didn't want her to have to struggle to be strong for him. She couldn't help with the problem he was having, so he wished he could tell her to be okay with whatever happened. He knew she cared, but this wouldn't help. This suffering she was causing herself. He didn't know whether or not she was truly okay, or how much this had really affected her. All he knew was that he wanted to fix it. Wanted to give her something to hold onto. Plus, every second he focused on helping her was one more he didn't spend thinking about his own problems. So he turned his gaze to her, studied her expression, tried to figure out what he could do to help. He watched her stare at her cards, knowing she was barely seeing them. He had seen that own look on many people and felt it on himself many times, and he knew exactly what it meant. She was getting lost in her own thoughts, not knowing what way was up, slowly drowning in the fact that was he was dying. He could tell as she glanced around at this house that she was having similar thoughts as him, wondering about how empty it would be, who would come next, what they would do with the place. She may not have a strong attachment to it like he did, but she had an attachment to him, and the house reflected him. He could understand what she might be feeling. Her speaking made him almost grin, something to hold onto in her words. He could talk about that for hours if he needed to. "It's on the day after tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 4 pm, if that's okay. I do remember you want VIP treatment and I will bring you food." He stated, immediately launching into the next thing. with enough momentum, he could drag them both through this and out the other side. He opened his mouth to start speaking, then something popped into his mind. "Have I ever told you what VIP means to me? It obviously stands for Very Pretty Penguin, so buckle up, because this'll be fun." His grin turned slightly evil, his eyes warming slightly. "When we arrive it'll be crazy, but manageable. I'm going to go to the barn and talk with Charlotte for a couple minutes, make sure that her horse is okay and ready, ask if she needs anything. After that, it'll be likely 45 minutes till they actually show. For 30 of those we can wander around... there'll be concessions and stuff, so I can make sure that you get jacked up on enough sweets and treats to kill a small child. When the 30 minutes is up, we'll go to the warmup arena, where I will talk to Charlotte again. Maybe offer some advice. She'll be showing in gaming events only, so no pleasure events this show. Country music is going to be playing the whole time, so prepare yourself. We will then go to the bleachers and watch and obviously cheer her on very loudly. When she is done we'll go congratulate her, make sure she's all good, then we'll probably have another 30 minutes. There are four events... Barrels, Poles, Jumping Figure Eight, and Keyhole. I'll explain each when we're there. We should definitely get you a hat- and maybe I can procure a buckle just so you fit in." He blabbered on like an excited puppy running around with a ball, forging a path through the misery with his bright happiness about the show. "After she's finished we can go home if you want, or there'll be fireworks afterwards." He finished with a nod, as if to seal off the entire speech he just gave to sum up 4 hours of a day. When she finally did decide to lay a card, he let out a quiet breath, offering a smile back. It wasn't forced, wasn't too tight. It was reassuring, calming, something to show her that she didn't have to try and hold his world together. An invitation for her to try and focus on the game. It was also much more laid back after his rant about the show. "If you can, I'm sure you will." He agreed amicably, but his smirk said otherwise. He flipped over his hole card and started drawing until his hand reached a grand total of... 21. His smirk widened slightly, his gaze daring her to beat that. "Have fun." |
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Raegan drew in a deep breath after a little while. Okay, shrug it off, deep breath, nothing’s wrong. Absolutely nothing to see here. Except the giant neon sign in her brain flashing he’s dying every time she looked at him. She needed him to know she cared, that if he needed her she’d be there, but… god, it was exhausting pretending she wasn’t falling apart inside. And Axl—he looked worse for wear. Paler, a little frayed at the edges, like an old sweater someone had been picking at. What was going on in that stubborn head? Was he making grand plans? Plotting some secret genius move? Or was his plan just to sit alone in his office and… well, brood himself into an early grave. She glanced at him again, chewing the inside of her cheek, mentally rifling through a list of things he could be doing instead of whatever destructive spiral he was in. He had his company now, sure, but the last year of his life shouldn’t be about balance sheets and corporate fires. Then she remembered something—something Konig-related. Her brows drew together as the memory clicked into place. Oh right. That. The I’m going to take his company down comment. He’d promised not to, but Raegan’s gut was telling her that promise had all the weight of a soggy Post-it note. Not since he’d decided the cure was out of reach. Granted, it was more than a little Bond-villain-level evil of Konig to dangle that cure in front of him and then yank it away, but still—Axl didn’t need another vendetta on his plate. “Axl?” she said finally, her voice dropping a notch. “You… weren’t being serious about taking his company down, were you?” She tried to make it sound light, like she was joking, but her eyes were busy scanning his face for the truth. Because seriously—if he didn’t have long left, there were better ways to spend it. Like turning the company into something good for once. Or going on ridiculous road trips. Or literally anything that didn’t end with Axl Jager: the man who nuked his father’s empire in every headline. And god, if the world found out about his illness… She half expected to see it trending already—Konig had basically bellowed it in the hallways, and if the doctor had told him, who else knew? Her chest tightened. She pulled out her phone and checked the news, half-bracing for disaster. Nothing yet. She exhaled, but she’d keep watching. Not now, though. Right now, he didn’t need to see the cogs turning in her brain like some rusty, panic-fueled machine. He just needed a friend. She wasn’t even sure how long he wanted her here, but until he said “Get lost,” she was staying. Still, the thought crept in—did he have anyone else to lean on? Because if she was it… well, no pressure or anything. She knew the second she got home, she’d turn into a sobbing mess. For now, she kept it together. He had time, sure—but time suddenly had an expiration date, and she hated that she knew it. His family didn’t seem to care—well, Konig didn’t. And the idea that she might be the only one who’d actually miss him made her stomach twist. He wouldn’t just be forgotten, would he? Of course, maybe she was being dramatic. People didn’t just fall in love in a year… though, with Axl, maybe. If he actually left his office and met people. His person could be out there somewhere—though the odds of them wanting to bleed for him for a cure that might not even work were… slim. Whatever. She wasn’t going to spiral. Not when Axl was in the middle of happily rambling about this show they were going to. His voice had that faint spark again, and she was determined to fan it into a flame. She made a mental note for 4 p.m., two days from now. Then, her head tilted. “What on earth does ‘Very Pretty Penguin’ stand for?” she asked, one eyebrow raised, fighting a grin. She rolled her eyes at his grin, but hers snuck in anyway. This was closer to the Axl she liked—the one who could make her laugh even when the world was ending. “Can’t wait to meet her,” she added. If this kid had earned Axl’s sponsorship, they had to be talented and decent. And sure, he’d said he was sponsoring the horse, but he wouldn’t back a horse owned by a brat. She mentally ticked off the list—sweets, hat, country music, loud cheering. Got it. “I think a buckle might be overkill,” she teased, “unless you want me blinding people in the bleachers. And obviously we’re staying for fireworks. That’s non-negotiable.” She reached to pull a card, but the doorbell rang and she—completely forgetting the game—launched herself out of the chair. Her cards exploded across the table like confetti. She didn’t care. The door opened to reveal a delivery driver holding three bulging carrier bags. Jackpot. She grinned, thanked him, and lugged them back like she was returning from a victorious hunt. Plopping the bags down, she gave him a look, then glanced at the chaos on the table. “See! You cheated. I know you looked at my cards and ruined the order,” she accused, pointing at him with the air of someone uncovering a great scandal. She added a dramatic pout for emphasis, as if this was the worst betrayal she’d ever suffered. |
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Axl was completely focused on her, barely in his own head at all- mostly- unless it was worrying about what she was worrying about. It seemed much like the night before, where they were kind of just staring at each other, each getting more and more panicked until one finally spoke. Problem was, one wasn't speaking. And he didn't know what to say. Stop worrying about me dying? She was probably trying but it was hard to just shut it off. He sure wasn't shutting his mind off, just switching to a different thing to worry about. . His glanced away from the cards when her tentative, low voice broke through the silence. That didn't seem like a normal tone. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and he froze, opening his mouth and closing it again. She was genuinely worried about this. A pang stabbed into his chest. He wished she didn't have to hear that. It might've been easier to just see it on the news. His shoulders dropped slightly and he looked back at his cards, jaw tightening. "Yes. I was being serious." He paused, struggled to go on. "Konig ripped away everything from me. My entire life. Everyone I loved. He's a horrible person. Not just to me, but to everyone. He loves the company more than anything. If I take down the one thing he cares about in life, maybe... just maybe.... he'll realize that he should've cared about something else. Someone else." He muttered, shaking his head. She wasn't going to understand. All she'd likely hear is that he wanted to destroy what Konig had made to hurt them. And it was true. Axl wanted it to hurt. Because he had hurt, so much, because of them. . He had already been thinking about how to keep his illness in close wraps. Who to bribe, what to say. The press was already going at Konig, wondering why they retired so early, and Axl knew if he stepped one foot out of line it'd be the same for him. He'd have to pay the doctor, but his father was the biggest loose end. They'd say something just to spite him. Just so that he'd be all over everything. Wouldn't be able to blink without seeing another headline: Axl Jager, Dying! It would be horrendous and cruel, but that was Konig. . Little did she know, she was very right about people not falling in love in a year. Specifically for him, it took longer. But what she wasn't taking into account was the possibility that he had already fell, and that he couldn't un-fall. . His eyebrows lifted at her question. "VIP. Very Pretty Penguin. It makes total sense. What did you think it stood for?" He asked, a picture of innocence. He felt quite victorious in the fact that she was also grinning... he totally accomplished his goal, then. At least for this second. "You'll like her." He conceded with a nod, smiling brightly. "She's funny and strong willed and stubborn. Don't know how but she manages to argue her way with me, and that never happens. I swear that girl could convince me the world is flat." He snorted quietly. Definitely should be a business major. Very convincing. "Really? But blinding people in the bleachers is fun." He huffed, pouting slightly. Most of the other people would have buckles on, but whatever. She could be not fun if she wanted. He decided not to mention the fact he damn sure wouldn't be wearing a buckle. His short amount of riding days were far past over. "Understood. Will stay for fireworks." He nodded, mentally stowing that information away. . He flinched back in surprise as the doorbell rung and she leapt up like a child with their birthday present awaiting, watching the cards fly ALL over, including onto the floor, and grumbling something under his breath about 52 card pickup. His gaze flicked to where she was already returning with her three enormous bags, his nose wrinkling. "I'm sorry, but you can't expect me to eat ALL that. I'm still full from pizza." He pointed out, then remembered he hadn't eaten the wrap. At that opportune moment, his stomach grumbled. Quite angrily, in fact. "I take it back. Thank you for this meal." He replied serenely, then his expression morphed into an accusatory one. "No, you cheated! You scattered them all over so you could pick up the exact ones you needed to win. How dare you." He made a swipe with his own hand as if to bat hers out of the air, although he was almost 2 feet away from actually reaching. He then slowly breathed in the smell of food and decided yes, he was very hungry, opening one of the bags to see what it would offer. (I shall skip in the next post lol. This one hath gotten too long( |
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Raegan leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyebrows arched at him like she was auditioning for “World’s Most Skeptical Penguin.” His words about Konig made her chest feel heavier, but she refused to let that show too much. “Okay, first of all,” she said, pointing a finger at him for emphasis, “that is the most dramatic revenge plot I’ve ever heard, and I’ve watched an unhealthy amount of soap operas.” She tilted her head, softening a little. “But also… you realize that makes you the guy who sets fire to the family business in the third act, right? The one everyone boos?” She tried to make it sound teasing, but the concern bled through. “Maybe… I don’t know… fix it instead of blowing it up? Leave it better than you found it. You know—Boy Scout it.” She caught his look, the one that said you don’t get it, and sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know he’s awful. I’m not saying let him win. I’m just saying—don’t let your last year be about him. He’s not worth it.” She dropped it, though. She didn't want to upset him anymore. When he pivoted into that ridiculous VIP explanation, she snorted and shook her head. “Very Pretty Penguin? Really? That’s what you went with? Not… Very Important Person like literally everyone else in the world? No, no, of course not—Axl Jäger has to make it weird.” But her grin broke through despite herself, especially when he bragged about the girl they were going to see. “Okay, she sounds great… but I’m still going to test her. If she can convince you the world’s flat, she can survive me asking her about the moon landing.” She waved off the buckle conversation with mock seriousness. “I refuse to be a human disco ball in public. But fireworks are non-negotiable, and if you even try to sneak out early, I will drag you back by your very not-Western shirt.” The doorbell saved her from having to play her next card, and she bolted up like she’d been shot out of a cannon. The cards went flying—literally—and she did not care in the slightest. The delivery driver looked slightly alarmed at her enthusiasm, but handed over the bags anyway, and she returned with them like a victorious hunter returning with prey. When Axl accused her of cheating, she gasped so dramatically you’d think he’d insulted her ancestors. “Me? Cheat? I am offended, sir. Deeply. I will be writing a strongly worded letter to… someone. Probably your stomach, since it’s clearly the one in charge right now.” She plopped the bags down with a thud, eyeing the way his whole face softened at the smell. She wasn't actually sure when the last time he ate would have been... sure as hell better have not been last night. She couldn't imagine how hungry he had to have been. She watched him grab a bag, her smile picking up her cheeks again. "Mhm. Thought so," she mused, almost to herself. "There's enough here to last a few days, if you're not interested in cooking. If you want anything, pop over, you know where I live and-" she paused, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly. "Don't disappear on me, ok?" Last thing she wanted. He could be feeling bad - ill, maybe, she didn't know what exactly what was going on, but she wanted him just to let her know - it didn't even have to be her, it could be the king of england if he wanted it to be, just so someone knew he was okay. It didn't have to be for long. The rest of the evening seemed to past fairly quickly. She fixed her stack of cards and they played while they ate, Raegan just enjoying the time she had with him. Soon enough, though, she checked her watch and gave him a sad looking smile. "I've gotta run. You need to sleep!" She hummed gently to him, looking thoughtful for a moment as she helped pack up the few empty boxes of food they'd gone through. She shuffed around the table and wrapped her arms around his side in an awkward looking half hug kinda deal. "I'll see you... soon? Hopefully. You'll be alright, hm?" She noted as a promise over anything else. He'd be okay, even if it was for a little while. She sighed as she stood up, giving a little stretch and wave before making her way out. (No worries, I've given you an easy bit to skip from xD) |
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Axl brightened microscopically at her words about it being the most dramatic plot ever. "Thank you!" He flashed a smile like it was one of the best compliments he had ever gotten, then sighed. He rested his chin on his hand and quietly looked kind of defeated. "I've learned not to pay attention to 'everyone'. They are almost always wrong and never see the big picture. All they'll see is some jackass tearing down an empire, not a hurt person fixing the one thing they can." He pointed out flatly. "... Boy Scout it." He repeated slowly, his eyes showing just how unenthusiastic he was about that. "Konig would love me if I 'boy scouted' it. The better I make the company, the more money it pulls in, and the better he feels." He said, bitterness tinging his tone but not taking over. "Maybe I could change it instead. Convert Jager Industries into a children's hospital or something. He would not be pleased with that." Axl tilting his head in thought, lifting it off of his hand. Now he was trying to think of things he could shift it into being. Where it would still exist but to do good. Rewrite a different family legacy than just the rich jerks from downtown. She would understand that, right? Still, that would have it continue existing, which was probably enough for Konig. A small frown played at his lips but he wiped it away quickly, focusing on her. However, she had one more thing to say about it, and something akin to surprise crossed his face. "I wouldn't let my last year or less be about him. I've figured it out, and it'd take approximately a week of screwing things up for the empire to be almost completely done. Tarnished in the name of everything. Then I could just shut it down and reopen a better one and walla, I could be the owner of a small bookstore/coffee shop on th outskirts of town called 'Guns N' Roses'. Doesn't that sound nice?" He asked with a pointed look. It sounded absolutely fantastic to him. "Weird?" He feigned offense. "It is not weird, it is unique! Special. Perfect. Worth the world changing their opinion for. I could even compromise and have it be Very Important Penguin. But the penguin stays." He stated with an air of royalty, like it was his decision to make. "Well of course she can. If you asked her about the moon landing I'm sure she'd tell you many facts and statistics." He mused. He had full faith that Charlotte would not let him down. And if she did he'd just be mildly disappointed. "My shirt will be extremely Western, what are you talking about? You obviously know not the ways of the show." He scoffed lowly, shaking his head. "But you can drag me by my very Western shirt, I'd accept that." In any case, he was planning on staying for the fireworks. They were always nice to watch and remember that some people were actually free in America. Not him, apparently. At least they could own guns. His eyebrows shot up at her more than dramatic reaction, his arms crossing over his chest. "I am just as offended that you would accuse me of cheating." Axl exclaimed, shaking his head. His wrinkled his nose at her comment about his stomach. "Excuse you. Eyes up here. I'm in charge." His joking grin widened at the obvious teasing tone in his voice. "My stomach is merely trying to take over. And failing, you must understand. Failing miserably." He decided, mentally willing himself to eat so he'd stop sounding like an angry freight train. He watched her as she started carefully saying how he couldn't leave, pausing and growing serious for once. "I won't disappear. I'll tell you right now that I have something planned for tomorrow, so I'll probably just text you, but the next day, it's the horse show. So I'll be there." He stated firmly. He didn't want her worrying about him any more than she already did, and the best way for that to not happen was if he kept her updated. The next few hours passed quietly, with them just hanging out and existing. When she said she had to leave, he totally understood- it was getting late and he was getting tired. He felt like a child staying up for the ball drop. His eyelids were heavy. Weird. "I will sleep. Don't worry." He promised, his brain short circuting for a second as she came closer and hugged him- not because of any normal reason, but because he was trying so hard to keep relaxed instead of tensing up because he didn't want to show her how hard he was thinking and trying not to scare her away. A smile formed on his face as she stepped away and waved, and he lifted a hand in response, nodding. "The day after tomorrow. I'll be there. Don't worry about me. More than I already know you will." He attempted to keep his tone cheerful and light, but his heart hurt as he watched her walk out. The next day when he awoke, he was utterly confused. They hadn't left a giant mess the night before, as she took the empty boxes, but the rest were on the table and the cards were there... were being the key word. When he opened his eyes, he saw the table. It had nothing on it. Thing was, his bedroom was a whole floor away from the table. With a groan, he blinked and pushed himself up, realizing that he had slept on the couch. Apparently he had been too tired to make it down the stairs. What a problem to have. As his mind came back, he realized that the night before he had put away everything in the fridge. The cards where they belonged, not in the fridge. Good. Getting ready for his day was slow, but he pushed through, doing one thing at a time. Taking a shower. Getting dressed. Remembering to put on matching socks. Eating. After he checked everything off, he finally looked at the time... 1600. He had slept almost all the way through the day. His appointment was in an hour. He took the keys to his motorcycle, checked to make sure he was indeed good to drive- after sleeping so long and eating he did admittedly feel much better- and went out. He was contemplating how to get his car back as he drove, decided that he'd just have to walk. He could do that tomorrow, before he picked her up, since he needed it then. When he arrived at the appointment, he sucked in a calming breath, pushed away the panic eating at his thoughts, and walked in. The waiting room that he remembered, the disgusting sterile smells, everything brought back so many horrible memories. Screaming, sitting in silent, quiet sobs when he couldn't take it any longer. Curses, threats, insults, words spewed because he felt trapped. He heard his name being called, so like a zombie, he walked into the second office on the left. Harrison sat there, looking surprised. "I didn't think you'd actually show up. Have a seat, Axl." He said quietly, a smile crossing his expression. He was glad that the other man had. Harrison was in his upper fifties, a quiet, soft, funny guy who was loved by almost everyone. He must've been a saint because he managed to put up with Axl's bullshit for 6 years. Axl swallowed the lump in his throat and sat down with a quiet sigh. After they got over the formalities, he steeled himself, reminded himself that this was for Raegan... and told the man everything. After Axl stopped, Harrison sat there looking thoughtful. "You say you love her, yes? That you care about her more than anything?" He mused. Axl just nodded. Harrison wrote something down and smiled sadly. "Love is a tough thing. Specifically when you're dying. Also, I am truly sorry about that. I do hope you get cured. What I would do... if you truly care about her more than anything... you'd tell her. Yes it may hurt her, yes it may make her feel attacked and trapped, but you would be truthful. I believe she'd rather have the truth, even if it hurts. She may decide she doesn't want to be near you again, in which case it seems like you lost everything, but that may be a risk you want to take. The good thing is there are two good ways it could go... she could realize she cares about you more than she does fear you and although it'll hurt, she'll help, or your confession could awaken feelings she didn't know she had. Which would likely be best case scenario. I hope this has helped." Axl listened to each word carefully, letting out a quiet, shaky breath. "Yes. Thank you." He murmured. "You're so much different than you were at 18." Harrison smiled again. "I'm not saying what you did was good- on the contrary, it was awful, but it may have been good for you. It made you realize what was truly important in this life." He stated calmly. Axl nodded slowly, then stood. "I have to go." "Congrats on the company, Axl. I hope to see you again." With that, he left, going back home to mull over everything he had learned. Before he went to bed, he remembered to shoot a quick text to Raegan saying that he was okay. Just thinking. After he sent it, he passed out. The next day, he awoke in his own bed, which was nice. The morning was uneventful, and before he knew it, it was time for him to go get his car. It took about an hour of slow ambling for him to reach it. He then immediately left and got wraps, then coffee, then went straight to her house. He parked not far away, got out, and glanced around. No threatening mothers. That he could see. With that assurance, he walked up to her door and knocked softly once or twice, before waiting. |
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Morning Rain, with Cooling Temps Later
