Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Chapter 42

A flurry of emotion floods my conciousness, rapids of confusion and possession. It's a sharp pain deep in my chest, that feeling of separation, the ache of not knowing exactly where he was. "I didn't know he had an interview..." I mutter, letting my hands fall to my sides as I tilt my head, watching the man on the screen. 

Caspian punches young Randy in the arm, that audible thump makes my teeth grind and I ball my hands into fists. Why did he allow this? Why did he let Caspian pick on him so ruthlessly? "Why do you lie all the time?" He accuses, causing the man to flinch, rubbing his bicep. 

"That's not me!" He hisses through his teeth, shoving the Spanish man back. 

"Yet." Caspian sneers.

"Shut it! Both of you!"I can't get involved, this would form the man he becomes, I had to let it be. 

 Enraged I cast my hand, freezing them both to the ground by their feet. I needed to focus on this, not worry about the desire to protect this younger version of my soul mate.

 We're surrounded by whispers, the dull murmur of judgment circulates through the air much like smog. In neutral territory, even in my own time, people might question seeing someone use in public. Refusing to acknowledge the mistake, I keep my eyes locked on the pair before me. The hard flashback of the railway car causes a twinge in the side of my skull. Their screams, that I could have caused them all to die, they so easily blamed me for their peril anyways.

Professional, he sits much like one would in a war room, rigid, jaw tight, the button up clings to his chest in a way that carves out the definition of the well-defined shoulders yet collects the shadows in a manor that truly highlights the size of the man. It never ceased to impress me, while he was by no means the largest lycan, his presence alone was it's own blanket of intensity. Tall, lean in some aspects, the high cheek bones and perfectly set nose commanding every ounce of his regal breeding. 

I admire the tangles of silvery gray hair, lighter than his youthful self, it's unruly twists never ceased to give him the boyish charm that combated starkly against his piercing eyes. 

Pressed pants follow the long legs, coupled with suspenders that seem to have more use as a holster than a tool to keep his trousers up. They must have stripped him down, concerned about his potential threat, when the true danger lurked amoung them in plain sight. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, hinting at amusement beneath the fear of the weaponry I assured myself they had prepared incase of retaliation. My wolf is quite pleased, they have no clue what lies under the surface. But I knew better than to believe a well placed bullet wouldn't mortally wound him. Another flash, this time Marisol and her horrific death.

"Are you ok?" Caspian's voice hits the side of my head like a sledge hammer, echoing against the dull ache of remembering everything so vividly with this 'enhanced' mind.

Perhaps they did have a valid reason to fear us, they had not lived as we had, they were not prepared to deal with the likes of us. Humans could be so fickle, even in my mortality, it paled in comparison to this intensity- dare I say obsession. If our numbers increased once more, the ripple effect could be vast and crushing.

"Thank you for coming today, Mr. Mercer. You're a difficult man to get on screen, I'm surprised to see you so soon without your.. husband?" The hesitation causes me to flinch. As if they were still getting used to the idea, the thought of him being married to a man was uncomfortable. We had only just left tabloids when it came to both of our preferences, more so his than mine. It would seem short, red haired ethnicities were not nearly as appealing in this time line either. 

I couldn't blame them for being curious of him. His old fashion accent, his kindness towards lesser men and startling reputation for being murderous and short tempered, it made sense that he had become the focus. He made for a more interesting story.