Max woke to the muffled sound of drawers sliding open. It was a soft, domestic noise, almost out of place in the quiet of a rainy morning. He blinked against the dim light filtering in from the curtains, his head still heavy from an uneasy sleep. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered faintly in the air, along with something that felt… different.
He pushed himself upright, raking a hand through his hair. When he padded into the living room, still in the loose T-shirt he'd fallen asleep in, he found her there.
Althea was sitting cross-legged on the rug, a neat stack of clothes beside her, folding the last shirt with deliberate care. Max's voice came out rough from sleep. "Where are they?"
She glanced up, a wisp of hair falling into her eyes. "They left early this morning," she said softly. He nodded once, just enough to acknowledge it, and turned toward the kitchen. No follow-up questions. No reaction. Just that quiet, guarded air he'd been carrying lately.
The faint sound of him opening a cabinet and retrieving a bowl reached her ears. She shifted on the rug, watching him pour cereal without so much as glancing her way.
"You didn't even say goodbye to them?" she asked, half teasing, half genuinely curious.
"Didn't know they were leaving," he said flatly, milk splashing into the bowl.
She bit back a sigh. "Max, are you going to keep acting like this? It's not—"
The sound of his spoon clinking against the bowl cut her off. He didn't look up, didn't give her the satisfaction of a debate.
Outside, rain was pattering against the balcony railing, a steady, silvery rhythm. Althea pushed herself to her feet and drifted toward the sliding glass door. "It's been so long since I've seen rain like this," she murmured, almost to herself.
She slid the door open and stepped onto the balcony. Cool air rushed against her skin, the scent of wet concrete and distant thunder pulling something loose inside her.
From the kitchen, Max's voice carried over. "You're going to catch a cold."
"I'll be fine," she said without turning.
The next sound was his footsteps; quick, irritated. He appeared behind her and wrapped his fingers lightly around her arm. "Get inside."
"Max—"
"I mean it, Althea."
For a moment, she resisted, her eyes narrowing. The stubbornness in her spine made her pull back. "You're acting like I'm made of glass."
"You're standing in the rain when it's barely twenty degrees out."
"Exactly," she said, and before he could tighten his grip, she broke free and bolted. Past the sofa, past the kitchen counter, toward the staircase leading to the building's roof.
"Althea!"
Max froze for half a second before hearing another set of paws scramble after her like it was a grand adventure. "Lilith! What the hell!"
He swore under his breath and chased them, the image of them slipping on wet concrete flashing in his mind.
By the time he pushed open the heavy rooftop door, rain and wind surged into the stairwell. Althea stood near the edge, her clothes plastered to her skin, hair dripping in pale golden strands that clung to her face and neck. The downpour made her look almost unreal; like some tragic heroine caught between heartbreak and defiance. Lilith was happily prancing in circles around her feet, tail wagging like this was the best day of her life.
Max strode out, his expression somewhere between furious and terrified. "Are you insane?!"
"It's just rain, Max!" She spun to face him, her voice raised above the sound of it hitting the concrete.
"You can get sick—"
"I'm already sick," she cut him off, her words soft but charged. "Not in the way you mean, but I'm—" She shook her head, unable to finish.
For a moment, neither moved. The rain blurred the city lights, wrapping the rooftop in silver mist.
Max stepped closer, slowly, as if every inch forward was a decision. "You're impossible." She almost smiled, but it was faint, more of a ghost of a smile than anything else. "And you're impossible to talk to."
Her blue eyes; sharp, bright, and almost too clear, held a quiet fire beneath the softness. Even in the rain, even with her shoulders trembling from the cold, she was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous. The kind of beauty you could ruin yourself over without realizing it until it was too late. He wasn't going to let this turn into anything, but god, it was hard to look away.
Max reached her in a few strides, his hand finding her arm; not rough, but firm enough to anchor her in place. She turned toward him, startled, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them.
He was close, close enough that she could see the droplets clinging to his lashes, the faint rise and fall of his chest. Her gaze lingered on him longer than she meant to. The damp strands of his hair clung to his forehead, and the way he exhaled, sharp and deliberate, made something stir in her chest. She tried to look away, but her eyes betrayed her curiosity. His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes, and she swore she felt the pull between them like gravity.
The rain made his touch warm in contrast, his thumb brushing her arm without him even realizing. He leaned in, just enough that her breath caught—
Then he stopped. His eyes searched hers for something she couldn't name, and his voice came out low, steady, and unshakable.
"Don't look at me like that unless you're ready to break something we can't fix."
The space between them shifted instantly; tense, fragile.
He let go of her arm, stepping back, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her in the rain, her golden hair plastered to her skin and her blue eyes following him until the stairwell door closed.
Her eyes roamed the rooftop, taking in the city lights blurred by sheets of rain. Everything looked softer, more fragile
Lilith pressed herself against her ankle. Althea bent down, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face and letting her hand linger over the cat's fur. She realized, with a tiny twist of surprise, how alone she felt even with the familiar companion at her side. The rooftop felt endless, and yet contained, as if it had trapped all the tension, all the unspoken words, and left them hanging between the steel rails and the night sky.
She was standing there alone, yet impossibly aware that she had never felt more alive, or more unsettled in her life.
End of Chapter 50.