running with wolves

“Hm, yeah?” Her question is softened with timbre’s of calmness. “Any specific reason why?” Not meaning to pry, of course, however she was about as curious as that of a black cat. 

“Not really.” He shrugged, not having an appropriate answer for her. Sometimes he just had a gut feeling on things.

Emilia glanced at him when he repeated how bad the mysterious incident was in an attempt to read his emotions. The more he repeated that word, the more she thought it best to remain in the unknown. Was she really that bad off without knowing all the horrible things that may have happened in her previous life? She could only guess it was something that had been kept from her for her benefit. Offering a small nod in response, she quickly shrugs a shoulder. “Okay— but I wouldn’t mind,” she attempts to clarify in case he was afraid of upsetting her with the truth about how annoying she truly was. Far aware that her beliefs and excitable personality could be overbearing to some. “I just don’t understand why they would lie to me about my own life. It’s not their place to lie about that. They don’t know how it feels to be… so lost in your own skin,” she huffs in exasperation. Her eyes raise when he reaches for her face, stiffening slightly in an attempt to prepare herself for the assault of images that would come with such an act, but once he let his hands fall; she isn’t exactly sure if she’s grateful or disappointment. “But I am. I did that,” she points to the dent in the wall where she’d kept him pinned, “this,” redirecting her finger to the silverware on the ground, “–all of it. How am I not a bad person when you felt like you needed to pretend you didn’t know me? When my parents refuse to tell me anything about my past?” Emilia wasn’t looking for pity, simply for some understanding, and hopefully, some answers. A small smile tugs at her lips when the mention of friends arise as she nods, knowing they must have been very close for him to know her favorite color, some of her past and her parents. So, why did he pretend not to know her? It was the question that kept swimming in her head, perhaps for the simple fact that it was the only question he wouldn’t answer. Taking a moment to ingest everything said and thought, she finally lets out an exhausted sigh. Far too tired to attempt playing this tug o’ war game with him, at least for right now. “I’m sorry. You probably didn’t think you were going to deal with all of this tonight. I shouldn’t be wasting anymore of your time.” She whispers quietly, “I’ll help you clean up.” Even though everything in her wanted to move closer and curl up against his side, she pushed the thought away and slowly lifts herself from her seated position by using the chair behind her.

Shame coursed through Mack as he listened to her. He wanted to tell her--needed to--but he couldn’t make himself do it. Would it make her more distraught? To know he was involved with the crash? Another pang cursed his chest when she kept talking. Her parents didn’t have the right to lie to her. He didn’t have the right, especially when it was obviously hurting her. Lost in your own skin. The words echoed in his head, cemented there so he couldn’t get it out. What was he doing? What was he fucking doing? Mack swallowed thickly, looking at each place she pointed to. If he told her, would it be so bad? Could it help him keep her away? She was so far from whatever she thought she was that he didn’t know if he would be able to handle knowing that’s how she thought of herself, even if he never saw her again after tonight. “You’re not wasting--” he mumbled, trailing off as she began to get up. “I didn’t pretend not to know you because of you, or because you’re a bad person. I did it for you. I did it because you’re too good to be around me,” Mack sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against a nearby chair. This had to help. Who would like the man responsible for their amnesia? For putting them in harm’s way? She didn’t even have to know they were engaged to think that. “You want to know how bad it was? I should have been able to prevent it from happening. That’s how bad it was.” He shook his head, unable to look her in the eye as he spoke. Please let this make her stay away, he thought. “We were drunk. I got behind the wheel when I shouldn’t have. I’m the reason...I did this to you. You don’t need to be around someone like me. That’s why I didn’t tell you that we knew each other. I’m bad for you, and it’d be best if you remembered that.“

It was a miracle that she was still awake. Never had she used her powers to such an extent before. Completely draining herself of energy in the process, she was now slumped back against the chair she had been sitting in moments ago. Had there not been glass littering the wooden floor, she would have laid down while listening to him. Alas, this would have to do. Tucking her necklace beneath her shirt when she catches him looking, she drops her hand in her lap, pulling at her fingers instead. “How bad? What was it?” Her doe eyes alight with fear, afraid that she may have done something so bad that her parents had felt there was no other choice but to lie to her. As well as Mack. Obviously he didn’t hate her, but he didn’t want to know her either. “Annoying? That I can believe. I can be, I’ve noticed,” she chews on the inside of her cheek, wondering if she had turned back to her annoying self and this was why he had pretended they were strangers. Perhaps he was waiting for her to get bored and leave him alone. God, she was stupid. It made sense, din’t it? So many scenarios came to mind, all of which ended up with her being the one in the wrong. Sucking in a deep breath when confirmation is given of her parents lies, she frowns and glances away in an attempt to hide the hurt. Why was everyone lying? Had she been so bad in her previous life that her parents saw her accident as a second chance to mold the perfect daughter they’d never had. Was she really a bad person playing pretend? “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be a ballerina. I don’t know. I don’t understand why they would say that.” Her eyes welled up with tears, but she glanced away to blink them away. She felt ashamed. Ashamed of the person she had been and how she’d foolishly believed everything told to her. “Maybe I was a bad person and they wanted to make me better?” she attempts to find an excuse, not necessarily looking for an answer to her question. Emilia just needed it to make sense. It fit with her recent actions taken towards Mack. She had been a bad person and her past self was now starting to seep into the present one. “I’ve only known about that for a short while. A vampi.. A man told me. Well, he showed me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, offering a sorrowful look when he attempted to reassure her. “Have I always known you were a werewolf? Were we friends?” 

Mack licked his lips, trying to find some way to explain this without giving away all the details. “Bad,” he said, as if that should explain how extreme it was. “It’s...it’s nothing we need to talk about now.” If he thought it would be for the best, he would’ve spilled the beans then and there. He would’ve told her he was an idiot for getting behind the wheel with her. Mack watched as she looked at him, unable to pinpoint what mixture of emotions were passing across her features. His brow furrowed. “You’re not annoying,” he said with certainty. “Promise.” Mack let out a scoff when she mentioned her parents. “That makes two of us.” He was mad at them, but he was mad at himself, too. He was doing the same thing they were doing. He was lying. Something burned inside him when she talked about being a bad person. Mack shook his head furiously, pushing himself away from the wall so he could slide closer to her. His hands reached for her face to make her look him in the eye, but considering the last time they touched, he let his hands fall back to his knees reluctantly. “You are not a bad person,” he said, voice serious and expression stern. Had this been going through her mind the whole time? “You’re not, and you weren’t. You’re one of the few good people I know.” Mack wouldn’t sit back and let her talk bad about herself, whether he told her everything or not. He listened, not missing how she got as far as “vamp” before stopping. Now that did perplex him. Why was she hanging around vampires? He shook his head, focusing on her new questions. “No. I wasn’t one back then.” Mack gave a small smile, nodding as he met her eyes. “Yeah. We were friends.” She was his best friend. The friend he had to propose to. But that didn’t need to be said. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“At least you get around to returning them eventually.” he sighed scanning the books in front of him. “I get it, things like this can easily slip your mind. What do you do if I may ask?”

Mack nodded, agreeing with the man. “Bartend,” he said simply. “At the one near the repair shop. It’s more my thing than dealing with books is.”

Mack nearly jumped at the unexpected greeting, frowning as he turned to the girl. He sighed, pointing back to where he came from. “Go a few blocks that way and you’ll see at least one motel with a shitty sign outside. I think there’s a Bed and Breakfast that way, too.”

Welcome to Le Corbeau. How can I help you?

How much are your rooms. I need a change of scenery for the night.

Emilia willed herself quiet when he began to talk. Uneven sobs racked her core even though the crying had finally subsided. As she stood from her crouched position on the ground, Emilia found the nearest seat and sat, curling herself against the back of the chair. She was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. But the words that spilled from his lips were the only thing keeping her from falling into a slumber. Many emotions were circling around in her mind when he told her that it was better this way. Had she done something horrible to him? Had he done something bad? Did they hate each other? Did they have a past? The more information she found out about her past–the more questions arose. It was exhausting. Yet, she craved to know more. Every newfound piece of information filled the void within the witch. Patching itself up and making her feel whole little by little. Now that he was in view, Emilia took the time to look him over. A part of her knew he was eager to get the psycho witch out the door as quickly as possible— and she would grant that wish— as soon as her questions were answered. “Why? Did something bad happen? I don’t understand.” she stated, frustration lacing every word that left her lips. Laying her head against the arm that’s draped over the back of the chair, she tries to take in all the new information, mulling over each word. “How… What was I like?” she asks quietly. Assuming that she may have been different when around her parents as she was around friends, or whatever she was to Mack in her past. Their connection was still unclear, and the fact that he was keeping their past vague wasn’t lost on her. Swallowing thickly, she slowly slides down the chair and lowers herself until she’s seated on the ground a few feet from him, refusing to move any closer, for the simple fact that she’s more than positive it’s probably the last thing that he wants right now. “I’m not in any way making excuses for what I just did,” she begins quietly, toying with her necklace around her neck. “It’s just that when I woke up and realized I didn’t remember who I was.. my family began to tell me things. How my favorite color was pink and how I wanted to be a ballerina. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it just doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t match up. I’m scared of disappointing them and I can see the frustration in their faces when I ask about it.” She pauses, chewing on her lower lip and swiping at a stray tear, “So, when someone knows something, and keeps it from me, I get frustrated. I just … I need to know. I shouldn’t have done what I did… I don’t think I’ve ever done that and I’m so sorry. My powers are still new. I didn’t know I was capable of that. I would give anything to take it back. I’m so sorry– I really am.” she finally glances away in an attempt to blink the tears that threaten to spill over once more.

She looked like a wounded animal to him, sitting all curled up on herself. He hated being the cause of this. All he had to do was tell her. Just tell her everything. It just wasn’t that simple. He contemplated what to do, how to handle this. Mack didn’t want to break her heart any more, but a part of him kept thinking that would be damn near impossible. “Something bad happened,” he answered, trying to hide the shame. So bad that it had gotten Emilia into a car accident. He cracks a small grin trying to think of how to answer her next question. “Depends on when you’re talking about. You used to be immature, annoying. To me, at least. After a while, you weren’t so annoying anymore.” Mack was so lost in thought that he almost missed her moving from the floor to the chair. His eyes never left her fingers when he saw what she was playing with. However, his attention was directed elsewhere when she began to talk. So that’s why she never questioned their past before. God, her parents must’ve despised him. But why would they tell her such things? A fucking ballerina? He curled his hand into a fist by his side, trying to keep from showing his anger outright. Mack thought they would’ve been there for her when he couldn’t be. So were they covering for him, or was this something else entirely? “You never told me you wanted to be a ballerina. And your favorite color is green. Or it was,” he shrugged, unsure if he knew anything about her anymore. “I never knew you were a witch. That’s new for both of us.” Mack was conflicted between thinking he should’ve been with her at the hospital when he woke up, and thinking he should’ve told her to stay away when she started hanging around him again. “I know. It’s fine.” He was a werewolf, after all. Despite still feeling the tingling sensation of what was there moments before, he was in no pain now. Mack’s eyes softened as he continued to watch Emilia. “Really. I’m okay.”

You gonna kill me? His words hit her like a ton of bricks. Making her look in a mirror that she was not prepared to face, forcing her to look at her own actions. She was just so angry. He was lying to her about something that didn’t even involve him. Keeping her own memories hostage. “No,” she choked out, her hands slowly lowering if only to bring down the intensity while still keep him firmly in place. She didn’t have much energy left; her petite body shook with anger and exhaustion. In an attempt to shrug the disgust she felt with herself away, she blinked away the tears that clouded her vision. “Tell me,” one hand dropped, taking the pain she was causing away while the other kept him pinned against the wall. “Where do you know me?” Emilia could have sworn that she was going to throw up. His tone and features reflected the pain she had caused. Her frail limbs began to shake uncontrollably as she felt it harder to keep the energy cursing through her, until finally, the brunette collapsed in a heap on the ground. Her entire body was drained of energy, unable to do anything but sit and let the tears fall freely. Sobs racking her form. She was ashamed of the actions taken, and of letting her anger and frustration get the best of her. Although, more than anything, she was confused as to where it had come from. Ever since her accident, her mother had countlessly reassured her of the angel she had always been, rather than the rebellious teenager that her parents had attempted to send away in order to gain control over her. Unbeknownst to Emilia, she was in fact capable of such emotion and anger towards another human being. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpers brokenly. Words directed towards the wolf in the corner of the room.  “I’m sorry.” There wasn’t anything else she could say. What can you say to someone who you had attempted to hurt– to kill? Nothing. No words could take back her actions. Without raising her eyes from the ground, Emilia kept repeating her apology in hopes that it would erase everything that had occurred. She never condoned using violence against anyone– but yet, here she was, facing the only friend she had made while listening to his heavy breathing in the corner. In an attempt to collect herself from the ground, Emilia slowly began to rise, unable to look in his direction in fear of the look that would be shot her way. 

He felt the pressure against his skull lessen immediately, as if it had been nothing but a strong hallucination. Mack couldn’t move, but at least there was only a dull throbbing now as she continued to keep it up. Then it was all gone. Nothing but a phantom ache remained. He inhaled deeply, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Mack didn’t like seeing Emilia in this much pain. He wanted to be so angry with her, but he couldn’t be. It just wasn’t in him when he knew exactly why she was. When he knew it wasn’t going to be so simple to just tell her everything she’d forgotten. Would it be right? Even if it’s what she was asking for? As he searched for the right words, his body dropped unceremoniously to the ground, shaking the stools around him. Emilia fell as well, making him want to go to her, to make sure she was okay. But he was worried it wasn’t what she wanted. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her like this. He remembered the days of when he first met her, he remembered the days after, but he didn’t remember this. This brokenness she exuded now. “We met a few years ago,” he started, choosing his words carefully as he leaned against the wall. His chest ached watching her, wishing he could know what went through her mind. He wanted to help her. He really did. He just didn’t know if helping her was in her best interest. “We got close.” He tried to hide the emotion away. You were an annoying little shit that I wanted to protect. That I still want to protect, he thought. “I thought it was better not to tell you. You were better off not knowing me,” he murmured quietly. Her apologies echoed in his head, making his expression soften even more. This wasn’t her fault. This whole thing was fucked up, but he didn’t know how to make it better. His eyes followed her as she stood, making sure she was strong enough to do so. What he wouldn’t give to hold her again. But that was what had gotten them into this mess, wasn’t it? Indulging in their meetings instead of staying away like he planned to. Maybe this would change all that.

“Stop!” Lies. Why was he so adamant on lying to her when worst of all, she knew he was lying straight to her face. “Stop lying to me!” With the words, her hands rose in a motion of frustration that brought every kitchen wear that was forgotten on the tables a few inches in the air before falling on the wooden surfaces and shattering at their feet. Frustration was becoming overbearing for the witch and with every lie that escaped him, she could feel the anger as well as the magic shatter her sensitive control. “I saw you,” she begins, stepping closer with a fiery look in her eye, “you were protecting me before you turned into a wolf. Why would you be protecting me? I can feel it. You’re lying,” she continues in an accusatory tone. Before he could respond to her statement, Emilia waves her hand and watches as he’s pushed back against the bar. The emotions were slowly taking control of her body and the need to gain information about her past, or possibly, their past together was far too tempting to just leave without any answers. She deserved that much, didn’t she? “Please, just tell me the truth and I’ll…. stop.” Keeping an hand risen to keep him in place, the other followed suit as she began to form an aneurism, not enough to create any longterm harm, but to simply prove a point. “Please,” her tone almost came as pleading. “I just want you to tell me. I need to know…” Tears of frustration well up in her doe eyes while remaining fixated on him. “I don’t want to do this… but it feels like there’s something missing. I don’t know who I am. And I just want to know. Please, Mack.”

He watched in horror as the silverware floated to the air, only to fall to the ground moments later. “Emilia...” he started calmly, needing her to settle down. Mack didn’t know what in the hell was going on, but if she didn’t stop, it was going to get ugly in here. The hair on the back of his neck rose because of it. That, and because she claimed to see him turn into a wolf. None of this made sense. It was like when they were together all over again. Random images that...the pieces fell into place just as his body flew through the air, the counter’s edge crashing into his back. He let out a grunt upon the rough contact. His brows furrowed as he stared at her. Emilia was a witch. His face remained stoic as she kept him pinned to the bar. No matter how much he tried to move, it just wasn’t happening. Worst of all, his head suddenly felt like it had exploded. Damn witches and their damn powers making him helpless. Anger boiled inside him, his eyes glowing red as he tried to use what strength he could to get out of her hold. Nothing worked. The pain was excruciating and never-ending, making his eyes squeeze shut. He knew his will power was strong and that he could withhold information if necessary. It had to be, should he ever be tortured by someone other than his ex-fiancee. But the longer he held out, the worse it felt, the pain going from something “simple” to something unbearable. She was still pleading with him, still seeking an honest answer. Resorting to torture to get what she wanted. Was the Emilia he’d known capable of that? Was she even that Emilia anymore? He let out a growl in an attempt to alleviate some of the frustration and searing agony, but it didn’t work. Mack seriously considered how long he thought he could let this go. How far would she go to get her answers? “What. Would happen. If I didn’t?” Mack panted through gritted teeth, trying to look at Emilia despite seeing two of her. “You gonna kill me?” He let out a choking sound, just wanting to relieve the pressure in his head. How much worse would she make it if he didn’t talk? Would he pass out and be left defenseless? Worse? “I know you,” he grunted quickly, trying to get the words out in a coherent sentence. This was all too much and he couldn’t take it anymore. “I know you. Just stop.”

Slowly rising from her chair, she almost stumbled back against the one behind her. Thankfully, catching herself before he could come to her aid, her hands rose as if to signal that she was fine. She needed to move. And, so she did. Pacing the small space, from stool to closest booth, her shaken limbs were crossed over her chest as she began to dissect every image and moment that had run through her mind. What did it mean? There wasn’t a time where she hated the blank slate offered to her after the accident more than this very moment. Frustration arose in her already shaken and unstable self, making it all boil over as she kicked the first object in sight; a metal stool. “You told me you didn’t know me!” She hisses out a little louder than expected, as if the answers should be obvious to him. “I… I don’t know what’s going on.” Dainty fingers run through her hair, leaving a disheveled mess in their wake. “What does old wolf mean?” A desperate look was given to him, unsure if he knew the answer to her question or not, but she willed him to remember. Everything was taking too long and she needed answers now, “Tell me! Mack, Please!” The concept of perhaps finding a missing piece of her past was placing her on edge, tightly gripped fists on either side of her made her petite frame vibrate in frustration which in turn began to shake various objects in her proximity. “Mack. We know each other. Right? We do..” she spoke softly, desperation seeping into her words. 

Mack watched her, eyes trained on every movement she made. He slowly began to walk back out from behind the counter. She looked so undone, and he didn’t know how to help without breaking the promise he’d made for the both of them. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, giving her a partial truth as he liked to do. When she’d first mentioned the name to him so long ago, he honestly hadn’t known what it meant. He tried to keep himself calm, keep from letting on to anything. She was safer not knowing. It was better that way. However, his eyes noticed how various objects in the bar began to shake, making him feel uneasy. What was going on? What didn’t he know? “Yes. We met at the diner, remember? You came to my booth and sat down.” Mack wanted to soothe her, but he couldn’t. She remembered, she just didn’t remember everything. What he needed now was for her to calm down, and stop doing...whatever it was she was doing. Emilia was the reason his tables and stools were shaking with what could have been mistaken for fear, were they alive. “What’s going on, Emilia? What’s wrong?”

“I guess so,” she finishes with a small smile. Her eyes take in his features for a brief moment, not quite realizing that he’s making a drink before it’s being slid across the counter in her direction. A look of confusion is given at his comment about her being fine but instantly disappears when her eyes fall back on her drink. Gin and Tonic. “That’s.. “ she pauses, shaking her head at the possibility of this being the biggest coincidence ever. “That’s my favorite drin—” In an attempt to reach for it while keeping her eyes on him instead of her actions, Emilia brushes against his hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. A significant gasp escapes her lips as an image pops forth unlike anything she’s ever seen or felt before. As if her whole body had been sucked into this one image with such an intensity that it had Emilia gripping the edge of the table while her frail frame began to shake. Normally, she saw flashes of images for every species, but this, this was a video rolling before her eyes. The pair in a vast forest. There was danger lurking and no matter how hard either one tried to pin point to source, it remained unseen. A few second later, the man before her turns into the most beautiful wolf; her old wolf.  A video that she couldn’t escape. It lasted seconds but felt like eternities and as she fell back into reality, Emilia felt all the more confused about her surroundings and the last few minutes. Her body continued to shake, heart pounding and chest heaving from the intensity of the touch. All she knew for sure was that Mack was a werewolf, more importantly, her werewolf. It was an indescribable feeling. Unbeknownst to her that he possessed all the missing pieces to her shattered past. “My old wolf,” she mutters to herself while slowly, almost fearfully raising her gaze to meet his, “Why did you lie to me?” She wasn’t sure what the lie was just yet, but she knew that there was more to it than he was letting on. They knew each other. 

He could have slapped himself for being so careless. She hadn’t told him her favorite drink. It was under the list of things he wasn’t supposed to know. He shouldn’t have rushed to get her on her way. Mack gave a tight grin, ignoring how their fingers brushed--and the subsequent electricity that coursed through his hand--just long enough to pay one of his last customers of the night. He noticed Emilia was suspiciously quiet as he turned off the sign in the window that said “Open.” Something seemed wrong. “Emilia?” He asked cautiously, eyes widening briefly when he saw her grip the table. Was she having a seizure? She’d never done this before. He wanted to shake her out of whatever daze she’d fallen into, but he didn’t know if that would make it worse or not, so he opted to stand by instead. It was easy to tell when her episode ended. It stopped when he heard her call him a name he hadn’t been called in months. His eyes met hers and it took everything in him not to jolt at the endearment. He was left speechless, an expression on his face that he hoped could pass for confusion instead of shock. Did...did this mean she remembered? But how? That couldn’t be possible. “Lie to you about what?” He asked quietly, treading carefully into these unknown waters.

Mack lifted his hands away from the tiny object, palms toward Abha. Who would have known that tiny little thing was dangerous? He took the seat she offered, adjusting himself so that one arm was leaning on the back of his chair and he was comfortable. It’s not so much that he wanted to be here, rather than he needed to be here for answers. “Been a while since we spoke. Came to see if you’d heard any more on the disappearances,” he said. His pack was getting restless. He needed all he could get.

Emilia sat at the bar with a wide smile tugging at her lips and an angelic look framing her features. Looking like the epitome of innocence. “What ever do you mean? I’ve done no such thing,” she teases. Relaxing her frame into the chair, she slouches back while offering a one shoulder shrug, “Please do. I’m excited to hear exactly how you make these new friends.” Hopefully, he knew that she was simply teasing. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he could make as many friends as he wanted if he put the time and effort into doing so. Just like you should be doing, Emilia, the words echoed in the back of her mind. The smallest look of disappointment touched her features when he mentions going back to work, but she makes an effort to hide it as quickly as possible. “Oh, yeah, of course. I shouldn’t be keeping you.” Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she glances at the array of bottles behind the bar while contemplating what to order, although her eyes flash back towards the bottle of gin as she always orders the same drink; gin and tonic.  

He laughed. That face was anything but innocent to him. He knew that look too well. Like when she did something bad and wanted him to look past it. “I guess we both are,” he joked back. His face quickly became serious again. He didn’t want her to think she was a bother, but it was better than sticking around. Mack pulled out another glass as soon as he caught her glancing at the bottles. All he had to do was get her her drink, and then move on. It could be a clean break. “You’re fine,” he assured her anyway, unable to keep from easing her possibly worried mind as he finishes making her gin and tonic. “It was good seeing you again,” he said, pushing the drink toward her.