“They?”
“Carpet, lights, my sewing things, hair. And the door.”
“Five,” Fix said, heavy brows creasing in worry. How had someone cast them so quickly after he’d just removed them? “I’ll go grab my kit from the car and be right back to deal with them, okay?”
“Just—” Liam started, but Fix didn’t want to waste time arguing with him again over payments and misunderstandings.
“I’ll be back in a second,” he said, rushing to his truck for his bag, then back up to Liam’s door before he even noticed he was gone.
He knocked on the door and listened to the cheap, hollow sound of flimsy compressed wood. He pulled out his whitemarker, unbuttoned his shirtsleeve, and pressed the tip of the marker against his tattoos. The curse was broken within seconds.
“Liam?” he called out.
“Yeah?” was the soft reply.
“The curse on your door is gone. Can I come in now?”
The sound of the latches being unlocked came in the next moment, and Fix’s heart only settled when he had Liam in sight again. But the paleness of his skin and the misery written all over him made it ache. His hair was draped over his face and he kept pushing at it, frustration clear as day.
“Hi,” Fix said as gently as he could.
Unease hovered between them now, implications and hurt guarding the bridge between them and making it hard to cross.
“Thank you,” Liam whispered. He was looking everywhere but at him, fidgeting in place before making himself lock eyes with Fix. He was so beautiful, even through a curtain of honey blond. “I… Come on in.”
Fix stepped in, Liam making room with King on his harness and leash again. The dog was watching him with distrustful eyes as he followed Fix’s every move. Liam pushed his hair back again, and again, and again, and Fix moved closer to him, raising a hand that shook with the need to touch Liam’s hair again. Feel it curl around his fingers and tickle his skin.
He brought his fingers close, so close he could feel the warmth of Liam’s skin on the tips. He held his breath, heart hammering in his chest when he realized Liam’s lips were parted and his head tilted gently to the side, bringing him closer. Closing the gap between them and brushing his cheek against Fix’s fingers.
Touching him again felt like fire, and Liam could feel it too because he snapped his eyes up, flinching back from Fix’s touch and shrinking in on himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said, clenching his fist and stepping back. King was still grumbling lowly at Fix.
“King, calm down, boy.” Liam tugged at the leash, pulling the dog back. “I’m okay.”
“It’s my fault.” Fix watched the dog settle next to Liam, tucking his hand into his pocket to stop himself from reaching for him again. “I shouldn’t have tried touching you.”
Liam looked away, a strange emotion flashing over his face before he tugged at his hair again. And again. And again.
“I probably have one of Midas’s hairpins in my bag,” Fix said, used to carrying stuff others might need.
“It won’t stay there,” Liam said, holding the hair away from his face. “It’s cursed.”
Fix felt like he’d never reacted faster in his life, because the very next moment the curse was gone. The silky hair in Liam’s fingers went limp and curled softly around his ear, staying in place.
Liam closed his eyes and sighed in relief. Fix saw the slump of his shoulders and wanted to scoop him up and hold him against his chest to keep him safe from everything.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and Liam opened his eyes, nodding.
“I am, thank you.” Liam looked away. “You can—”
“You said there were more,” Fix interrupted.
Liam pinched his lips tight. “The door and the hair is enough. I can live with the rest of them. They’re not that bad, I was just overwhelmed and melodramatic.”
“Being scared of a mass of curses placed on you isn’t being melodramatic,” Fix said, hating that Liam was punishing himself for some reason he didn’t understand. “Also, like I said in my office—”
“You said a lot of things in your office,” Liam said, chin jutting out defiantly.
