Meredith had always known about magic. Her family was magic, one of the most powerful mage lines out there. Having lost her parents to all the fighting though, she stayed far away from it, focusing on school and lading a primarily normal life.
Unti...
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Closed.
Since when was the coffee shop closed on Saturday? Mer pressed her head to the glass with a sigh. What was she supposed to do now? Calling Rush to wake him up would just be rude. Before he'd left her here, he'd informed her that if she called to him with magic, he would hear and come for her. But, what would she do at his castle anyway? Rush had already indicated that he slept better without her around. Though he'd slept just fine last night.
Waking him had been horrendous. Even after she'd woken up and the sun was crawling into the sky he hadn't stirred. The sun was like tiny lead weights on his eyelids. How he'd woken up the first time to sit at the coffee shop was beyond her. She'd gotten dressed and then been playing with the book he'd given her when he'd finally opened his eyes. It had been almost an hour since she'd given up trying to wake him.
Then he hadn't even said anything to her beyond how to contact him, just extended his hand and whisked her away here, a block from the coffee house. At least she still had the small backpack she'd put together before she left. It just had her wallet in it, her water bottle, her iPod and now Darius Shade's book.
But the café was closed.
Paul never closed the coffee shop. She hoped he was okay.
While being the guy who sold her coffee each and every morning, Paul was much more than that to her. His caring and extroverted personality had drawn her in a very long time ago, just as much as his strange fashion taste.
Paul dyed his hair forest green at the top and it turned to black as it wound down to his neck. Since he always had it up at the coffee shop, she had often reached for it as a child, wanting to tug on it. Paul had promptly given her denying stares and gone about his business. When she was younger, he'd been more normal looking, but as she'd grown up, he'd added a small stud in his nose, a few loops in one of his ears, and tattoos that crawled up his arms.
Not only that, but Paul had been her confidant since she was twelve. God, the man knew every crush she'd ever had, every heartbreak, and every time she'd failed a test and cried before bringing it home. When she'd been upset, he'd given her cookies and things to cheer her up. If anyone was a close friend, it was Paul. Hell, the man closed shop and walked her home on days she had jitters.
That was what she used to call them. Sometimes, she just got an ominous feeling and she hid out in his coffee shop until he left the counter. Knowing about the supernatural had terrified her when she was younger, though she'd never seen anyone of the sort. Whenever she'd come by and said she felt like a monster was around, Paul had put down everything, held her hand, and walked her home.
That had earned him some stares, but Paul never cared. It was strange for a man like him to be holding the hand of a child, just as strange as it was for him to hold her hand in middle school, and high school. Though the days became less and less, she'd even as recently as last year crawled into his coffee shop and huffed in a corner when she hadn't felt well. The last time he'd offered to hold her hand and walk her home, she'd turned him down, claiming she was too old.
