Taking in the features of the other, Grey was back in Montreal, interviewing a teacher who wanted to reveal the principleâs poor leadership skills and constant issues with the staff. It hadnât been an exciting story, but it had been something to help push him in the right direction of journalism. When his phone rang during the interview, he had ignored it knowing more than likely who it was and would call back as soon as they had finished. However, Grey never called back, the voicemail left by one of the good things in his life leaving him in nothing but a state of confusion. More than anything did he want to call back, see if he had done anything wrong, said anything to make the other up and leave in such a way. Since that day about two years ago, it has been an emotional roller coaster for Grey everyday, filled with thousands of question, most the same one just worded differently if he ever gotten, ever wanted to ask the man who he saw a future with. âWork required me to move.â Grey had stumbled upon the opening at the Mediaworks one night while surfing through the internet, had applied that night, and got the job a few days later. ââWhat are you doing here?â If there had to be a question Jaxon had to answer, he could at least give him the decency of that simple one.
The decision to leave Montreal had come weeks after the night of the bonfire, after he had been bitten by what he now knew to be the werewolf in the woods. He had already suffered through his first full moon, had woken up in an unknown part of the woods, miles from his own apartment. He had been confused, terrified, and concerned for the well-being of those around him. He wasnât sure if he had just blacked out, if he had wandered from his home in a state of confusion; or if something wrong was happening with him. Heâd gone to the doctor, but they only classified it as a flu and sent him on his way. It was after he had done research, after he had suffered through his second shift, that Jaxon realized he needed to leave, needed to figure out what was happening to him. And so he left, without so much as an explanation to why. But now his past was standing before him, was bringing that concern right back to him. âWork?â The word fell from his lips as his gaze shifted down to what Grey was now holding, his eyes scanning the article present. And almost instantly his blood ran cold, noticing just which horrible incident that he was reading into; the kidnappings. He remembered the days leading up to that fateful night, he remembered he had been searching for Cassidy when he was attacked, stuffed into a van then taken to a small cage that he had been stuck in for days to follow. He remembered the âexperimentsâ that had been done, the pain that he had endured while praying someone found them soon. The question pulled him from his own memories, forced his gaze back up to a face he hadnât been certain heâd ever see again in his life. He stood there in silence for a few moments, debating on exactly what he would tell Grey. Of course, he couldnât tell him the real reason, couldnât very well explain that he was a werewolf now. âI, uh --- needed somewhere new. Somewhere to escape, I guess.â He rolled his shoulders, knowing that it was a vague excuse, hiding the truth but he couldnât risk Grey; not after all he had done to keep him safe.
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto