“No, no, no,” said Abraxas, grabbing her arms. “You can talk about anything you like, of course. It just caught me off guard.”
Maeve thanked him and smiled. “I suppose I’m trying to stop running away from it.”
Abraxas nodded. “Let’s get some drinks, shall we?”
Abraxas poured her a full glass of dragon whiskey, and even though she protested, he shoved it in her hand regardless.
“One drink, Maeve,” said Abraxas, clicking his goblet against hers.
“Fine,” she relented without a smile.
They were seated at a table of students playing a card game, all of their cheeks flushed red as Abraxas told a hilarious story. Maeve pretended to drink her bright green beverage and poured it in Abraxas’ cup when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Damn it, Rosethorn,” growled Randolf Grisham, throwing down his cards. “Your incessant yapping makes it hard to concentrate.”
Abraxas didn’t respond and pulled the money at the center of the table towards himself. Maeve laughed, tossing her losing hand into the deck.
“Phineus, you can take my spot,” said Maeve.
She stood, patting Abraxas on the shoulder, and slipped away. She found a small table on the far side of the room and seated herself.
Even though it was his party, Maeve saw very little of the Alchemy Professor. He eventually got so drunk that Henry Willis had to escort him to bed while he slurred and shouted for everyone to enjoy their dinner.
She watched a few students dancing to the music, wondering if she would waltz at any of the parties over the holiday. Her father was an excellent dancing partner.
Mal’s entrance immediately caught her eye. He was wearing a black turtle neck sweater, which fit him nicely, and grey slacks. She watched him make his through the crowd. His charming nature was at its peak tonight.
After a moment, he spotted Maeve, excused himself from his conversation, and made his way toward her.
“I’ve noticed your affinity for sitting alone,” said Mal, “but do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” said Maeve gesturing to the seat beside her.
He pulled out the chair and as he sat he watched her for a moment.
“Thank you for the gift,” he said finally.
“It’s tradition to give a Magical a watch for their twenty-first birthday. Since I won’t see you on your actual birthday, I figured I would go ahead.”
Mal pulled the sleeve of his sweater back slightly, revealing the gold watch with an emerald inlay. The two hands were serpents with bright red tongues, and the numbers were ancient ruins.
“You didn’t have to,” said Mal.
“I know that.”
Maeve reached out her hand without thinking and ran her fingers over the face of the watch. The sapphire ring on her finger complimented it perfectly.
“It really is lovely,” she whispered.
She froze, realizing her potential mistake. She looked up at Mal, whose eyes were already locked on hers. Maeve’s fingers lingered across Mal’s hand. His skin was cool to the touch, and his expression was softer than she could ever recall seeing him. He slowly turned his hand over, and Maeve instinctively ran her fingers across his smooth palm, trapped in his gaze.
“Did you find Spinel?” Asked Mal quietly.
“Yes. He came back last night,” said Maeve breathlessly.
Mal didn’t pull his hand away, nor did he break their gaze.
“Good. Are you packed for home?”
