Moving Forward

New Beginnings (1)

Spending ninety percent of his time in the middle of nowhere, Max thought he might've had enough, but no, the idea of living in a place where he could start all over again was just too appealing. No Luke. No lecherous stranger. No big city. Just a small town with a population of about a thousand and a small two bedroom house. Sure, there was no gym, but he wouldn't need one. There was a basement he could store all his work out equipment and he could run around town or in the forest if need be. Plus being a shifter meant his metabolic rate was fast enough to burn off a quarter pounder with cheese just by breathing.

The house had a gravel driveway that kicked up pebbles as his truck drove across it. With no front garden, there was more space for cars, and a front porch that he knew he'd be making use of on sunny days. Sure, the driveway needed weeding, but Max could already imagine how nice it would be.

Inside, it was bare. The moving van hadn't arrived yet and all Max had was a sleeping bag, duvet and pillow, but that was all he needed. He was still getting used to soft beds, even after six months of being back in civilian life - but to be fair, he'd been in the Royal Marines since he'd left college at eighteen, and he'd barely been on break since - two months, maybe three at most between tours. Doing that for five years had left a lasting effect.

At least the boiler and electricity were on. Having neglected to visit the house beforehand, Max hadn't checked what was working and what wasn't, figuring he'd just fix it when the time came if need be. So far, he'd been lucky. The worst he'd found was a dead mouse in the cupboard - and even then he had to resist the temptation to bat it around like a kitten with string. The pantry was empty, so there was nothing for rodents or insects to live off in here - apart from termites, which he hadn't found.

Once he'd brought all the crap in from the car, he made himself something to eat - which was a nice way of saying he found the cereal and ate it straight out of the box, sitting on the floor in what would eventually be the living room.

And that was when the doorbell rang.

Max dropped the cereal on the floor and flung the door open. There was no large van sitting in his driveway and the man standing there was most definitely not the hairy overweight van driver that Max had been dealing with before.

"Hullo?" Max said, thoroughly confused.

The man standing there was lean, a few inches taller than Max's six-foot-two, but not quite as broad. His skin was tanned, like he spent all day in the sun, and he had dark brown hair that was apparently kept short. He had a strange scent, but it wasn't the least bit unpleasant and staring down at Max were a pair of almond-shaped, bottomless, dark brown eyes. Looking into them, Max felt a little like he was being smothered.

"Hi," the stranger said, snapping Max out of his daze. "There's a moving van stuck in town. This was the last empty house the town has."

Max nodded, watching the man warily. "Yeah?"

"I'm Kyle River. I only came down because the van is really inconvenient."

Though there wasn't any sign of River actually being nice, Max relaxed a little. "Max Waters."

There was a glint of momentary interest in River's bottomless brown eyes that Max had to remind himself not to get lost in, but a second later, the glint was gone and those eyes were as dark as they were to begin with.

Max nodded slowly. "Excuse me, but I've gotta go get my crap, so if you don't mind."

"Would you like some help?" River offered. As Max opened his mouth to protest, River cut him off. "Two people can move shit faster than one, and I want that van gone as quick as possible."

"Alright then." Max said, climbing into his truck and following River to the van.

They worked quickly together, driving to and fro between the van and Max's house. It was a little awkward for Max, but only because he rarely forced himself to be in the company of strangers. Sure, in the Marines, he hadn't known everyone, but a Marine was a Marine and therefore they were all his brothers. Here, there was nothing that could possibly link him to River, other than the town they were now both living in. It was a little odd, too, how River had immediately offered to help Max move the furniture. What kind of person was River? Overly friendly, or overly nosey? Neither, Max decided. The man was far too brash to be either of those.

"You were in the Marines?" River asked as they lugged in the last pieces of furniture.

Max nodded.

"How long?"

"Five years."

"What was your rank?" River asked, carrying a lamp to a corner of the room. It wasn't the corner Max was going to put it in, but it worked much better.

Max watched the other man for a moment. "Lieutenant." He finally answered. "Why?"

"You have a medal." River's short answer told Max all he needed to know: that the man was just making conversation.

"Oh." Max nodded and hung up the photo he had in hand. "If you don't mind me saying, your offer to help was a little odd."

River blinked and then turned to Max raising thick eyebrow. "It was? Hm." He nodded to himself a little. "I mean, we get people from neighbouring towns, but never anyone from big cities and stuff. Guess that's why."

"Please don't start stereotyping me." Max said with a grimace.

"I just meant that I wanted to meet the newcomer, see what you're like." In other words, River was only here to case Max out. The thought offended Max a little. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Max. I'll see you around." Though he said it, it was clear River didn't mean any of it.

Max gave him the barest of smiles and nodded. "See you around."

Odd, River was. At least in Max's opinion. Handsome, but clearly never thought of using it to his advantage, judging by the way he'd often run his fingers through his hair - a nervous, subtle gesture Max found somewhat charming and probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been a Royal Marine. And even though River was rude and possibly a little pushy, Max wanted to know if there was something soft and squishy under it all. Something he could dig his claws into.

As he turned and strode up the stairs, he couldn't help but laugh at himself.

"Bottomless brown eyes," he sighed, still chuckling quietly. It was odd.