The smell of coffee wakes me up. Disoriented and hazy, I blink my eyes open. I don't remember falling asleep, but Alec and I were up onto the early morning talking. I told him about my insecurities - the way that I've lost myself - and I opened up to him all the things I'd closed off. He'd been open, too, apologizing for letting me get so lost, even if it wasn't his fault at all. But all the same, the tension that we'd broken our promises to each other, that we'd fallen so far apart hung in the air and clung to us throughout the night. 

Stretching, I look at the alarm clock and see it's nearly 10 am. Alec saunters into the room carrying a tray with coffee and oatmeal on it. Comfort food. I love this man. Smiling, he settles back into bed beside me, setting the tray on both of our laps. The tension binds around us in thin tendrils and I try to ignore it as best as I can. 

"Good morning babe," he breaks the early morning quiet, leaning forward and kissing me softly.

"You're pampering me," I muse, smiling softly and pulling the mug of coffee into my hands, soaking up the warm laziness of it.

"I missed you." He answers, reaching forward and pushing my messy bedhead out of my eyes.

I smile and take a small sip, leaning on the headboard and looking at my amazing Love. He's everything I could've ever asked for and then some, but why do things feel so off? 

"Are you in trouble? For missing your shows in France?" I ask, remembering that my supposedly well thought out plan had gone straight out the window. I'd been sure Alec would be smart and go to France despite my disappearance. I'd thought he wouldn't put his life on hold just because I'd decided to change course. But, so different from the kid he was when I first met him, he was too stubborn. He followed his emotions, sometimes to a fault, and had put his career on hold to wait for me.

"No, my manager handled it." I remember meeting his manager once. He was a strict man, but with a warm, soft side that always seemed open to Alexander. He'd taken him on as soon as the sponsors started lining up. And he hadn't looked back.

"Did you reschedule?" I manage around a mouthful of warm oatmeal, the taste of brown sugar and cinnamon melting in my mouth.

"Yeah, in two weeks." He explains, beginning to eat his own. We sit in silence, the morning breathing around us. Too soon, Alec stands and gathers our dishes.

"Speaking of managers, I'm meeting him for lunch to discuss some things. Think you'll be alright for a couple of hours?" He asks, and I hate that he has to. His words shatter the peaceful illusion that everything is alright, bringing forth that tension front and centre. Normally, it would've been a non-issue- him going away for a bit to handle work. Hell, it was more often than not me who was away working. I wonder idly how Catarina is holding up, knowing that I'm being cowardly and selfish by not returning to work today. But, tomorrow, I remind myself. I'll go back then.

"I'll be okay, you don't need to worry so much."

"I think I do, the last time you-" he cuts himself off, reading the guilt plastered on my face like written words. "Sorry. I'll stop mentioning it." His promise only fuels the remorse. It's a dark reminder that somehow, because of me, we're not okay. But there's nothing he should be sorry for. I deserve to be reminded of how foolish I am. I deserve to feel bad for hurting him the way I did, so unnecessarily.

"No, you're right. I'll be here, though. Promise." Offering me a sad excuse for a smile, he presses his warm lips to my forehead briefly before getting changed. He says goodbye with a swift kiss before he dances out of the room.

The front door clicks and I'm left in silence. I know I should be okay, it's only a couple of hours, and I spent the past few days alone, but it's different now. Resounding. Loud quiet that threatens to drown me completely.

Feeling overwhelmed, I toss the blankets off and push my hair back, sliding out of bed. Trying to regain a sense of normalcy, I drag myself into the bathroom and under a steady stream of hot water.

Showers seem cathartic in a way. They remove all the stress and barriers, revealing vulnerable, desperate flesh, aching real that you just can't escape.

I slide out, wrapping a towel around my waist before I can fall victim to my own mind. Taking my time, I blow dry my hair, staring at myself in the mirror.

I try to tap into the youth I once knew so well. It's silly, honestly. I'm nearly 22, and here I am, an emotional wreck who can't find himself in an empty room. I try to capture the confidence and pride I once held, coming up achingly empty.

It's apparent, here and now, that the resentment and pain come around in the bitter stillness. They linger and attack when I'm at my most malleable state, when I'm softest and most open. Shaking my head, I fix my hair once more and head into the bedroom to find clothes. Dressing in a v-neck t shirt and some maroon pants, I feel slightly more real, more myself than I have lately.

To waste time until Alec comes home, I clean. By the time he walks through the front door 2 hours later, the place is spotless, organized to a tee.

"Whoa, you had a busy afternoon." He comments, brows raised in confusion as he looks around. Shrugging, I put the broom back in the closet.

"I got bored." It's a poor explanation, and I'm sure he sees right through it, but I don't want to tell him that I was afraid of my own mind. That I needed to keep busy somehow to avoid the incessant buzzing of my angry thoughts, my bitterness.

"I see that."

"How was lunch with your manager?" Trying to change the subject, I perch on the armrest of the couch, propping one leg up.

"Good. He wants me to start working with some pretty big names to get myself out there. I'm not sure, though. Maybe I don't want any more publicity." I know he doesn't mean to make a remark that might hurt me, but it does. It completely contradicts what he continues to remind me- that it's not my fault the press have become vultures, or that he believes every bad media release is worth it. Obviously, it isn't. When I don't reply, his dark eyes flicker to my face.

"I didn't mean it like that, Mags." He quickly corrects, taking a few steps towards me. I force a smile and nod.

"I know. Don't worry about it." Shrugging off of the armrest, I head into the kitchen, opening the fridge. It's a distraction, an escape and we both know it. This avoidance, this distance has never existed between us, but even with him standing barely 10 feet away, I don't think we've ever been so far. "Should I make pasta for dinner?" I hear him sigh behind me- most likely at my feeble reaches for outs, but he walks passed towards the bedroom.

"Whatever is fine."

***

Adjusting my tie once more, I walk into the office building. Catarina is placing a bouquet out in the window display carefully, her hair piled up on top of her head intricately. But I can see the weariness in her face, making the guilt bubble up uncomfortably. As the bell chimes above my head, she turns to me and breaks out into a grin.

"Magnus, you're back! I've been so worried," she strides over, high heels clicking against the hardwood and engulfs me into a hug. Chuckling, I squeeze her lightly.

"Yes, I'm back. Thank you so much for taking care of everything while I was away. I'm so grateful," she shrugs and grins.

"Never an issue, you know that. I rescheduled your meetings, no one dropped out thankfully, and you have one potential client today; you know, the new law office downtown?" I nod, vaguely remembering a phone call where I pulled all my usual charming tricks and managed to gain the interest of the building owner.

"Sounds great, thanks, Cat," kissing her cheek briefly, I stride towards the elevator, avoiding the rest of the shop, stepping inside and deflating once the doors close in front of me.

"You can do this, Magnus," I remind myself under my breath. This is my career- my dream, so why am I so afraid? Sighing, I step out and walk into my office, taking a seat behind my desk and hiding my face in my hands.

This morning, I woke up early, showered and made coffee. I tried so desperately to get back into my routine, making some pathetic breakfast for Alec. I guess it would've been my way of saying sorry for how yesterday turned out. I hadn't meant for us to become so far apart, to the point that we slept on opposite sides of our bed, never touching. He woke up not long after me and met me in the kitchen. Other than the mumbled 'good mornings' we shared, not much else was said.

The silence was so deafening I wanted to scream.

Rubbing my eyes, I look down at my desk, contemplating where to start. The mountain of paperwork is daunting, but possibly a welcome distraction from my own head, a way to avoid everything that's going on.

Grabbing my pen and sliding the first file in front of me, I get to work.

After a few hours, Catarina pages me to inform me the law office owner has arrived. I ask her to send them up, though I'm not sure what I'll say or do. My usual lines and winning smiles are so lost that I'm sure I'll bomb this meeting before it even starts.

Standing, I fix my hair and run a hand down the front of my suit to dispel any wrinkles.

The elevator opens and she steps out, her sleek red skirt hugging her thighs tightly, paired with deadly heels and a black blouse. She has red lips and dark hair framing her face. Overall, the woman is intimidating, to say the least.

"Hello, you must be Camille. It's so nice to meet you." I offer her my hand, stepping around my desk. Her taunting eyes glance down at my hand and flicker back to meet my own. Raising a brow, I drop my hand to my side and let out a breathy chuckle. "Alright, so let's sit and discuss, shall we?"

The meeting feels too tense- but I think part of it has to do with the terrifying woman sitting across from me. Her eyes- snakelike and poisonous- flicker wickedly, her words clipped and venomous. There's something dark and daunting about her, but nevertheless, I fumble my way through. She leaves on half decent terms and I let out a heavy sigh once the elevator doors close behind her.

The day drags on, and I'm unsure which is worse- being here, alone with my thoughts, or the idea of going home and being alone in a room with someone who just a week ago shared my soul.

By the time I'm packing my briefcase up and making my way to the car, I still haven't decided.