FLAMES

Changes

When you wake up, and Max is pressed against your back, you never want to move.

Half of you had expected him to already be up, already be gone somewhere else in his own house. The other half had clung to the fact that it seemed like he was warming up to you- like he was starting to really care about you. Of course, there were little signs of affection the entire relationship.

When you caught yourself say that word, relationship, you decided it was a good idea to open your eyes, forget about it, and start your day.

You and Max didn't have a relationship. You had something that you couldn't explain yet, like the taste of metal and the feeling of warmth and sticky bodies, smelled like mint and a house that seemed so familiar. Nothing about him was a home. It was a house that you distantly remembered, something reminding you of a past life where, yes, you could've loved Max. That wasn't this life, and you resented this man, resented that he was the ocean, pulling you back every time you tried to swim away.

You hadn't noticed him awake, hadn't noticed the gentle hand on your cheek. Eyes flick to him, and he's barely opened his own. His lips curl up at the sides, a tiny whisper of a smile.

"You look so stressed," he comments, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. You nod, scooting closer. He holds you, and you shiver, trying not to pay attention his his bare chest.

"I was thinking." He says nothing, and you close your eyes. "You stayed," you state.

He nods, you feel it. Calloused hands stroke your head. "I told you I would."

You glance up at him. "It was more about you choosing to wake up next to me. You could've got up and went to your living room but...y'know. You stayed."

He looks at you for a minute, his eyes trying to memorize your features as you lied against his chest. Simply, he hums. "I don't break promises."

You nod, deciding to remember that. "Okay."

A minute passes, and one of his dogs jumps onto the bed. He groans softly against your hair, and it causes you to smile. Max just holds you, not trying to get up any time soon.

It has to be about ten minutes later when he finally speaks up. "You said something about going to a dance studio. Did you?"

Your heart skips a beat. There's a moment if you question whether you heard him right or not— no, he definitely wants to know about your personal life. "Well, I, uh...Yeah. I go to a studio, downtown. I'm working on a piece right now. I actually have to get my ass down there because I'm casting people today."

He hums, tenderly rubbing your back. "Casting?" His deep voice asks, shaking you inside.

You nod. "Yeah. It's a company piece. I'm the star of the show, if you will. Bur I still need a company. Other dancers and stuff. If it makes it all the way to Broadway."

The movements on your back stop. "Broadway?" He repeats, sounding a little surprised. Almost hurt. "That's far away."

You smile, oblivious to his tone. "Mhm. But it's the dream. Hopefully it makes it that far and I'll be out of here in less than a month. That's just...that's just the hope for now."

You two are still. And then, after a minute, he pulls you closer, and you look into his eyes. There's silence, and he presses your lips together, cupping your face and closing his eyes. You run a hand through his hair, playing with it slightly. The two of you separate, and he presses your foreheads together.

"Go have your important day..." He starts, voice quiet, "...I have work to do too, and then you can come see me after. Bring some clothes with you, and just stay."