Quebec Immigration Visa: Your Complete Guide to Living and Working in Quebec in 2026
Canada remains one of the most preferred destinations for immigrants worldwide, and the demand for a Quebec Immigration Visa continues to grow every year. Quebec is unique because it operates its own immigration system, separate from other Canadian provinces. With excellent job opportunities, affordable education, a high standard of living, and strong government support for newcomers, Quebec has become a top choice for skilled workers, students, and families.
At Global Wings Visa Consultants, we help applicants understand the latest immigration programs, eligibility criteria, and application processes to make their Canadian dream a reality.
Why Choose Quebec for Immigration?
Quebec offers many advantages for newcomers. The province has a strong economy and growing demand for skilled professionals in industries such as information technology, healthcare, engineering, hospitality, finance, and construction.
In addition to employment opportunities, Quebec is also known for:
Affordable living costs compared to other major Canadian provinces
World-class education institutions
Safe and multicultural communities
Public healthcare benefits
Opportunities for permanent residency and citizenship
Because of these benefits, immigration to Quebec by country has increased significantly in recent years, especially from India, the Philippines, Morocco, Nigeria, and Middle Eastern countries.
Understanding Quebec Immigration Requirements
Before applying, it is important to understand the Quebec immigration requirements. Eligibility depends on the immigration category you choose, but most applicants must provide:
A valid passport
Educational qualification documents
Work experience proof
Language test results
Financial support evidence
Medical and police clearance certificates
French language skills are highly valued in Quebec immigration programs, although some pathways may also accept English-speaking applicants.
Quebec Skilled Worker Program
The Quebec Skilled Worker Program (QSWP) is one of the most popular immigration pathways for skilled professionals who want to settle permanently in Quebec. The program uses a points-based system to assess applicants.
Selection factors include:
Age
Education
Work experience
Language proficiency
Adaptability
Family status
Job offers in Quebec
Under the latest Quebec Skilled Worker Program policies, applicants with experience in high-demand occupations may receive better opportunities for selection.
The province regularly updates its labor market priorities, which is why staying informed about policy changes is very important before submitting an application.
Québec Immigration Program for International Students
Quebec is also a popular destination for international students because of its globally recognized universities and colleges. The Québec Immigration Program for International Students provides pathways for graduates to transition from temporary study permits to permanent residency.
Students who complete eligible programs in Quebec may qualify through programs such as the Quebec Experience Program (PEQ). This pathway is often faster and more convenient for graduates who already have education and work experience in Quebec.
For many international students, Quebec becomes the ideal place to build a long-term career and future in Canada.
What is the Québec Selection Certificate (CSQ)?
A key step in Quebec immigration is obtaining the Québec Selection Certificate (CSQ). This certificate confirms that the Quebec government has selected an applicant for immigration.
After receiving the CSQ, applicants must then complete the federal immigration process, including:
Medical examinations
Security checks
Background verification
Without the CSQ, most Quebec immigration applications cannot proceed further.
Québec Immigration Program 2026
The Québec Immigration Program 2026 is expected to focus on attracting skilled workers, healthcare professionals, IT specialists, and French-speaking candidates to address labor shortages across the province.
Some expected trends for 2026 include:
Increased immigration targets
Faster digital application systems
Greater focus on French proficiency
Higher demand for skilled professionals
More support for international graduates
Applicants planning to immigrate should start preparing their profiles, documents, and language tests early to improve their chances of selection.
Using the Québec Immigration Website
Applicants can find immigration updates, eligibility details, and application portals through the official Québec immigration website. The platform provides information about:
Immigration programs
Required documents
Application procedures
Processing updates
Skilled worker policies
However, because immigration rules frequently change, many applicants choose professional assistance to avoid delays or mistakes during the process.
Final Thoughts
The Quebec Immigration Visa offers excellent opportunities for skilled workers, international students, and families looking for a stable future in Canada. Whether you plan to apply through the Quebec Skilled Worker Program or through student immigration pathways, understanding the latest immigration policies and requirements is essential for success.
At Global Wings Visa Consultants, we provide expert guidance for Quebec immigration applications, documentation support, eligibility assessments, and visa services to help make your immigration journey smooth and successful.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
1. What is the Quebec Immigration Visa?
The Quebec Immigration Visa is a pathway that allows foreign nationals to live and work in Quebec through province-managed immigration programs.
2. What are the basic Quebec immigration requirements?
Applicants generally need educational documents, work experience proof, language test results, financial support documents, and identity verification papers.
3. What is the Quebec Skilled Worker Program?
The Quebec Skilled Worker Program is a points-based immigration system designed for skilled professionals seeking permanent residency in Quebec.
4. Is French mandatory for Quebec immigration?
French is not always mandatory, but having French language skills can greatly improve your chances of selection.
5. What is a Québec Selection Certificate (CSQ)?
The Québec Selection Certificate is an approval document issued by the Quebec government confirming that a candidate has been selected for immigration.
6. Can international students apply for permanent residency in Quebec?
Yes, international students may qualify for permanent residency through programs like the Quebec Experience Program after completing eligible studies.
7. What is expected in the Québec Immigration Program 2026?
The Québec Immigration Program 2026 is expected to focus on skilled workers, healthcare professionals, IT experts, and French-speaking immigrants.
8. Can I apply for Quebec immigration without a job offer?
Yes, many applicants successfully apply through the Quebec Skilled Worker Program without a job offer.
9. How long does the Quebec immigration process take?
Processing times vary depending on the immigration category, application volume, and verification procedures.
10. Where can I get professional help for Quebec immigration?
You can contact Global Wings Visa Consultants for professional assistance with Quebec immigration applications and visa guidance.
Workers sent from the country to Chinese factories describe enduring beatings and sexual abuse, having their wages taken by the state, and b
In February of last year, Donggang Jinhui Foodstuff, a seafood-processing company in Dandong, China, threw a party. It had been a successful year: a new plant had opened, and the company had doubled the amount of squid that it exported to the United States. The party, according to videos posted on Douyin, the Chinese version of TikTok, featured singers, instrumentalists, dancers, fireworks, and strobe lights. One aspect of the company’s success seems to have been its use of North Korean workers, who are sent by their government to work in Chinese factories, in conditions of captivity, to earn money for the state. A seafood trader who does business with Jinhui recently estimated that it employed between fifty and seventy North Koreans. Videos posted by a company representative show machines labelled in Korean, and workers with North Korean accents explaining how to clean squid. At the party, the company played songs that are popular in Pyongyang, including “People Bring Glory to Our Party” (written by North Korea’s 1989 poet laureate) and “We Will Go to Mt. Paektu” (a reference to the widely mythologized birthplace of Kim Jong Il). Performers wore North Korean colors, and the country’s flag billowed behind them; in the audience, dozens of workers held miniature flags.
Drone footage played at the event showed off Jinhui’s twenty-one-acre, fenced-in compound, which has processing and cold-storage facilities and what appears to be a seven-floor dormitory for workers. The company touted a wide array of Western certifications from organizations that claim to check workplaces for labor violations, including the use of North Korean workers. When videos of the party were posted online, a commenter—presumably befuddled, because using these workers violates U.N. sanctions—asked, “Aren’t you prohibited from filming this?”
Like Jinhui, many companies in China rely on a vast program of forced labor from North Korea. (Jinhui did not respond to requests for comment.) The program is run by various entities in the North Korean government, including a secretive agency called Room 39, which oversees activities such as money laundering and cyberattacks, and which funds the country’s nuclear- and ballistic-missile programs. (The agency is so named, according to some defectors, because it is based in the ninth room on the third floor of the Korean Workers’ Party headquarters.) Such labor transfers are not new. In 2012, North Korea sent some forty thousand workers to China. A portion of their salaries was taken by the state, providing a vital source of foreign currency for Party officials: at the time, a Seoul-based think tank estimated that the country made as much as $2.3 billion a year through the program. Since then, North Koreans have been sent to Russia, Poland, Qatar, Uruguay, and Mali.
In 2017, after North Korea tested a series of nuclear and ballistic weapons, the United Nations imposed sanctions that prohibit foreign companies from using North Korean workers. The U.S. passed a law that established a “rebuttable presumption” categorizing work by North Koreans as forced labor unless proven otherwise, and levying fines on companies that import goods tied to these workers. China is supposed to enforce the sanctions in a similar manner. Nevertheless, according to State Department estimates, there are currently as many as a hundred thousand North Koreans working in the country. Many work at construction companies, textile factories, and software firms. Some also process seafood. In 2022, according to Chinese officials running pandemic quarantines, there were some eighty thousand North Koreans just in Dandong, a hub of the seafood industry.
Last year, I set out with a team of researchers to document this phenomenon. We reviewed leaked government documents, promotional materials, satellite imagery, online forums, and local news reports. We watched hundreds of cell-phone videos published on social-media sites. In some, the presence of North Koreans was explicit. Others were examined by experts to detect North Korean accents, language usage, and other cultural markers. Reporting in China is tightly restricted for Western reporters. But we hired Chinese investigators to visit factories and record footage of production lines. I also secretly sent interview questions, through another group of investigators and their contacts, to two dozen North Koreans—twenty workers and four managers—who had recently spent time in Chinese factories. Their anonymous responses were transcribed and sent back to me.
The workers, all of whom are women, described conditions of confinement and violence at the plants. Workers are held in compounds, sometimes behind barbed wire, under the watch of security agents. Many work gruelling shifts and get at most one day off a month. Several described being beaten by the managers sent by North Korea to watch them. “It was like prison for me,” one woman said. “At first, I almost vomited at how bad it was, and, just when I got used to it, the supervisors would tell us to shut up, and curse if we talked.” Many described enduring sexual assault at the hands of their managers. “They would say I’m fuckable and then suddenly grab my body and grope my breasts and put their dirty mouth on mine and be disgusting,” a woman who did product transport at a plant in the city of Dalian said. Another, who worked at Jinhui, said, “The worst and saddest moment was when I was forced to have sexual relations when we were brought to a party with alcohol.” The workers described being kept at the factories against their will, and being threatened with severe punishment if they tried to escape. A woman who was at a factory called Dalian Haiqing Food for more than four years said, “It’s often emphasized that, if you are caught running away, you will be killed without a trace.”
In all, I identified fifteen seafood-processing plants that together seem to have used more than a thousand North Korean workers since 2017. China officially denies that North Korean laborers are in the country. But their presence is an open secret. “They are easy to distinguish,” a Dandong native wrote in a comment on Bilibili, a video-sharing site. “They all wear uniform clothes, have a leader, and follow orders.” Often, footage of the workers ends up online. In a video from a plant called Dandong Yuanyi Refined Seafoods, a dozen women perform a synchronized dance in front of a mural commemorating Youth Day, a North Korean holiday. The video features a North Korean flag emoji and the caption “Beautiful little women from North Korea in Donggang’s cold-storage facility.” (The company did not respond to requests for comment.) Remco Breuker, a North Korea specialist at Leiden University, in the Netherlands, told me, “Hundreds of thousands of North Korean workers have for decades slaved away in China and elsewhere, enriching their leader and his party while facing unconscionable abuse.”
In late 2023, an investigator hired by my team visited a Chinese plant called Donggang Xinxin Foodstuff. He found hundreds of North Korean women working under a red banner that read, in Korean, “Let’s carry out the resolution of the 8th Congress of the Workers’ Party.” (The company did not respond to requests for comment.) Soon afterward, the investigator visited a nearby plant called Donggang Haimeng Foodstuff, and found a North Korean manager sitting at a wooden desk with two miniature flags, one Chinese and one North Korean. The walls around the desk were mostly bare except for two portraits of the past North Korean leaders Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. The manager took our investigator to the workers’ cafeteria to eat a North Korean cold-noodle dish called naengmyeon, and then gave him a tour of the processing floor. Several hundred North Korean women dressed in red uniforms, plastic aprons, and white rubber boots stood shoulder to shoulder at long metal tables under harsh lights, hunched over plastic baskets of seafood, slicing and sorting products by hand. “They work hard,” the manager said. The factory has exported thousands of tons of fish to companies that supply major U.S. retailers, including Walmart and ShopRite. (A spokesperson for Donggang Haimeng said that it does not hire North Korean workers.)
At times, China aggressively conceals the existence of the program. Alexander Dukalskis, a political-science professor at University College Dublin, said that workers have a hard time making their conditions known. “They’re in a country where they may not speak the language, are under surveillance, usually living collectively, and have no experience in contacting journalists,” he said. In late November, after my team’s investigators visited several plants, authorities distributed pamphlets on the country’s anti-espionage laws. Local officials announced that people who try “to contact North Korean workers, or to approach the workplaces of North Korean workers, will be treated as engaging in espionage activities that endanger national security, and will be punished severely.” They also warned that people who were found to be working in connection with foreign media outlets would face consequences under the Anti-Espionage Act.
Dandong, a city of more than two million people, sits on the Yalu River, just over the border from North Korea. The Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge links Dandong to the North Korean city of Sinuiju. A second bridge, bombed during the Korean War, still extends partway across the river, and serves as a platform from which Chinese residents can view the North Koreans living six hundred yards away. The Friendship Bridge is one of the Hermit Kingdom’s few gateways to the world. Some trade with North Korea is allowed under U.N. sanctions, and nearly seventy per cent of the goods exchanged between that country and China travel across this bridge. At least one department store in Dandong keeps a list of products preferred by North Korean customers. Shops sell North Korean ginseng, beer, and “7.27” cigarettes, named for the date on which the armistice ending the Korean War was signed. The city is home to a museum about the conflict, officially called the Memorial Hall of the War to Resist U.S. Aggression and Aid Korea. On boat tours, Chinese tourists purchase bags of biscuits to toss to children on the North Korean side of the river.
Government officials carefully select workers to send to China, screening them for their political loyalties to reduce the risk of defections. To qualify, a person must generally have a job at a North Korean company and a positive evaluation from a local Party official. “These checks start at the neighborhood,” Breuker said. Candidates who have family in China, or a relative who has already defected, can be disqualified. For some positions, applicants under twenty-seven years of age who are unmarried must have living parents, who can be punished if they try to defect, according to a report from the South Korean government; applicants over twenty-seven must be married. North Korean authorities even select for height: the country’s population is chronically malnourished, and the state prefers candidates who are taller than five feet one, to avoid the official embarrassment of being represented abroad by short people. Once selected, applicants go through pre-departure training, which can last a year and often includes government-run classes covering everything from Chinese customs and etiquette to “enemy operations” and the activities of other countries’ intelligence agencies. (The North Korean government did not respond to requests for comment.)
The governments of both countries coördinate to place workers, most of whom are women, with seafood companies. The logistics are often handled by local Chinese recruitment agencies, and advertisements can be found online. A video posted on Douyin this past September announced the availability of twenty-five hundred North Koreans, and a commenter asked if they could be sent to seafood factories. A post on a forum advertised five thousand workers; a commenter asked if any spoke Mandarin, and the poster replied, “There is a team leader, management, and an interpreter.” A company called Jinuo Human Resources posted, “I am a human-resources company coöperating with the embassy, and currently have a large number of regular North Korean workers.” Several people expressed interest. (The company did not respond to requests for comment.)
Jobs in China are coveted in North Korea, because they often come with contracts promising salaries of around two hundred and seventy dollars a month. (Similar work in North Korea pays just three dollars a month.) But the jobs come with hidden costs. Workers usually sign two- or three-year contracts. When they arrive in China, managers confiscate their passports. Inside the factories, North Korean workers wear different uniforms than Chinese workers. “Without this, we couldn’t tell if one disappeared,” a manager said. Shifts run as long as sixteen hours. If workers attempt to escape, or complain to people outside the plants, their families at home can face reprisals. One seafood worker described how managers cursed at her and flicked cigarette butts. “I felt bad, and I wanted to fight them, but I had to endure,” she said. “That was when I was sad.”
Workers get few, if any, holidays or sick days. At seafood plants, the women sleep in bunk beds in locked dormitories, sometimes thirty to a room. One worker, who spent four years processing clams in Dandong, estimated that more than sixty per cent of her co-workers suffered from depression. “We regretted coming to China but couldn’t go back empty-handed,” she said. Workers are forbidden to tune in to local TV or radio. They are sometimes allowed to leave factory grounds—say, to go shopping—but generally in groups of no more than three, and accompanied by a minder. Mail is scrutinized by North Korean security agents who also “surveil the daily life and report back with official reports,” one manager said. Sometimes the women are allowed to socialize. In a video titled “North Korean beauties working in China play volleyball,” posted in 2022, women in blue-and-white uniforms exercise on the grounds of the Dandong Omeca Food seafood plant. (The company that owns the plant did not respond to requests for comment.) A commenter wrote, “The joy of poverty. That’s just how it is.”
Factories typically give the women’s money to their managers, who take cuts for themselves and the government, and hold on to the rest until the workers’ terms in China end. Kim Jieun, a North Korean defector who now works for Radio Free Asia, said that companies tell workers their money is safer this way, because it could be stolen in the dormitories. But, in the end, workers often see less than ten per cent of their promised salary. One contract that I reviewed stipulated that around forty dollars would be deducted each month by the state to pay for food. More is sometimes deducted for electricity, housing, heat, water, insurance, and “loyalty” payments to the state. Managers also hold on to wages to discourage defections. The women have been warned, Kim added, that if they try to defect “they will be immediately caught by Chinese CCTV cameras installed everywhere.” This past October, Chinese authorities repatriated around six hundred North Korean defectors. “China does not recognize North Korean defectors as refugees,” Edward Howell, who teaches politics at Oxford University, told me. “If they are caught by Chinese authorities, they will be forcibly returned to the D.P.R.K., where they face harsh punishment in labor camps.”
Chinese companies have significant incentives to use North Korean workers. They’re typically paid only a quarter of what local employees earn. And they are generally excluded from mandatory social-welfare programs (regarding retirement, medical treatment, work-related injury, and maternity), which further reduces costs. In 2017, Dandong’s Commerce Bureau announced a plan to create a cluster of garment factories that would use North Korean labor. The bureau’s Web site noted that all such workers undergo political screenings to make sure they are “rooted, red, and upright.” “The discipline among the workers is extremely strong,” it added. “There are no instances of absenteeism or insubordination toward leadership, and there are no occurrences of feigning illness or delaying work.” China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs did not respond to questions for this piece, but last year the Chinese Ambassador to the U.N. wrote that China has abided by sanctions even though it has sustained “great losses” as a result. A spokesperson for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs recently said that China and North Korea have “enjoyed long-standing friendly ties,” adding, “The United States needs to draw lessons, correct course, step up to its responsibility, stop heightening the pressure and sanctions, stop military deterrence, and take effective steps to resume meaningful dialogue.”
North Koreans face difficult circumstances across industries. In January of this year, more than two thousand workers rioted in Jilin Province, breaking sewing machines and kitchen utensils, when they learned that their wages would be withheld. Many North Koreans—perhaps thousands—work in Russian logging, in brutal winter weather without proper clothing. Hundreds have been found working in the Russian construction industry; some lived in shipping containers or in the basements of buildings under construction, because better accommodations were not provided. One recounted working shifts that lasted from 7:30 A.M. to 3 A.M. In preparation for the 2018 and 2022 World Cups, held in Russia and Qatar, thousands of North Koreans were sent to build stadiums and luxury apartments. A subcontractor who worked alongside the North Koreans in Russia told the Guardian that they lived in cramped spaces, with as many as eight people packed into a trailer, in an atmosphere of fear and abuse like “prisoners of war.”
Although it’s illegal in the U.S. to import goods made with North Korean labor, the law can be difficult to enforce. Some eighty per cent of seafood consumed in America, for example, is imported, and much of it comes from China through opaque supply chains. To trace the importation of seafood from factories that appear to be using North Korean labor, my team reviewed trade data, shipping contracts, and the codes that are stamped on seafood packages to monitor food safety. We found that, since 2017, ten of these plants have together shipped more than a hundred and twenty thousand tons of seafood to more than seventy American importers, which supplied grocery stores including Walmart, Giant, ShopRite, and the online grocer Weee! The seafood from these importers also ended up at major restaurant chains, like McDonald’s, and with Sysco, the largest food distributor in the world, which supplies almost half a million restaurants, as well as the cafeterias on American military bases, in public schools, and for the U.S. Congress. (Walmart, Weee!, and McDonald’s did not respond to requests for comment. Giant’s parent company, Ahold Delhaize, and ShopRite’s parent company, Wakefern, said their suppliers claimed that they currently do not source from the Chinese plant in question, and added that audit reports showed no evidence of forced labor.)
Two of the plants that investigators from my team visited—Dandong Galicia Seafood and Dalian Haiqing Food—had an estimated fifty to seventy North Korean workers apiece. One worker who has been employed at Galicia said that the managers are “so stingy with money that they don’t allow us to get proper medical treatment even when we are sick.” Galicia and Haiqing have shipped roughly a hundred thousand tons of seafood to American importers since 2017, and Haiqing also shipped to an importer that supplies the cafeterias of the European Parliament. (Dalian Haiqing Food said that it “does not employ overseas North Korean workers.” Dandong Galicia Seafood did not respond to requests for comment. One of the U.S. importers tied to Haiqing, Trident Seafoods, said that audits “found no evidence or even suspicion” of North Korean labor at the plant. Several companies, including Trident, High Liner, and Sysco, said that they would sever ties with the plant while they conducted their own investigations. A spokesperson for the European Parliament said that its food contractor did not supply seafood from the plant.) Breuker, from Leiden University, told me that American customers quietly benefit from this arrangement. “This labor-transfer system is for North Korea and China as economically successful as it is morally reprehensible,” he said. “It’s also a boon for the West because of the cheap goods we get as a result.”
North Korea doesn’t just export seafood workers; it also exports fish—another means by which the government secures foreign currency. Importing North Korean seafood is forbidden by U.N. sanctions, but it also tends to be inexpensive, which encourages companies to skirt the rules. Sometimes Chinese fishing companies pay the North Korean government for illegal licenses to fish in North Korea’s waters. Sometimes they buy fish from other boats at sea: a letter from a North Korean, leaked in 2022, proposed selling ten thousand tons of squid to a Chinese company in return for more than eighteen million dollars and five hundred tons of diesel fuel. Sometimes the seafood is trucked over the border. This trade is poorly hidden. In October, a Chinese man who said his last name was Cui posted a video on Douyin advertising crabs from North Korea. When someone commented, “The goods can’t be shipped,” Cui responded with laughing emojis. In other videos, he explained that he operated a processing plant in North Korea, and gave information on the timing of shipments that he planned to send across the border. When I contacted Cui, he said that he had stopped importing North Korean seafood in 2016 (though the videos were actually from last year), and added, “It’s none of your business, and I don’t care who you are.” My team found that seafood from North Korea was imported by several American distributors, including HF Foods, which supplies more than fifteen thousand Asian restaurants in the U.S. (HF Foods did not respond to requests for comment.)
Chinese companies often claim that they are in compliance with labor laws because they have passed “social audits,” which are conducted by firms that inspect worksites for abuses. But half the Chinese plants that we found using North Korean workers have certifications from the Marine Stewardship Council, which is based in the U.K. and sets standards for granting sustainability certifications, but only to companies that have also passed social audits or other labor assessments. (Jackie Marks, an M.S.C. spokesperson, told me that these social audits are conducted by a third party, and that “We make no claims about setting standards on labor.”) Last year, one of my team’s investigators visited a seafood-processing plant in northeastern China called Dandong Taifeng Foodstuff. The company has been designated a “national brand,” a status reserved for the country’s most successful companies, and supplies thousands of tons of seafood to grocery stores in the U.S. and elsewhere. At the plant, our investigator was given a tour by a North Korean manager. On the factory floor, which was lit by bright fluorescent bulbs, more than a hundred and fifty North Korean women, most of them under thirty-five years old, wore head-to-toe white protective clothing, plastic aprons, white rubber boots, and red gloves that went up to their elbows. They stood with their heads down, moving red, yellow, and blue plastic bins of seafood. Water puddled at their feet. “Quick, quick,” one woman said to the other members of her small group. (Taifeng did not respond to requests for comment.) Just weeks after that visit, the plant was recertified by the Marine Stewardship Council.
Marcus Noland, who works at the Peterson Institute for International Economics, said, of social audits within the seafood industry, “The basic stance appears to be ‘See no evil.’ ” Skepticism of such audits is growing. In 2021, the U.S. State Department said that social audits in China are generally inadequate for identifying forced labor, in part because auditors rely on government translators and rarely speak directly to workers. Auditors can be reluctant to anger the companies that have hired them, and workers face reprisals for reporting abuses. This past November, U.S. Customs and Border Protection advised American companies that a credible assessment would require an “unannounced independent, third-party audit” and “interviews completed in native language.” Liana Foxvog, who works at a nonprofit called the Worker Rights Consortium, argues that assessments should involve other checks too, including off-site worker interviews. But she noted that most audits in China fall short even of C.B.P.’s standards.
Joshua Stanton, an attorney based in Washington, D.C., who helped draft the American law that banned goods produced with North Korean labor, argues that the government is not doing enough to enforce it. “The U.S. government will need to put more pressure on American companies, and those companies need to be more diligent about their suppliers and their supply chains, or face stricter sanctions,” he said. Chris Smith, a Republican congressman from New Jersey and a specialist on China, noted that social audits “create a Potemkin village.” He added, “The consequence is that millions of dollars, even federal dollars, are going to Chinese plants using North Korean workers, and that money then goes right into the hands of Kim Jong Un’s regime, which uses the money to arm our adversaries and repress its own people.”
Late last year, when I set out to contact North Koreans who had been sent to China, I ran into significant obstacles. Western journalists are barred from entering North Korea, and citizens of the country are strictly prohibited from talking freely to reporters. I hired a team of investigators in South Korea who employ contacts in North Korea to get information out of the country for local and Western news outlets—for example, about food shortages, power outages, or the rise of anti-government graffiti. The investigators compiled a list of two dozen North Koreans who had been dispatched to a half-dozen different Chinese factories, most of whom had since returned home. The investigators’ contacts then met with these workers in secret, one-on-one, so that the workers wouldn’t know one another’s identity. The meetings usually occurred in open fields, or on the street, where it’s harder for security agents to conduct surveillance.
The workers were told that their responses would be shared publicly by an American journalism outlet. They faced considerable risk speaking out; experts told me that, if they were caught, they could be executed, and their families put in prison camps. But they agreed to talk because they believe that it is important for the rest of the world to know what happens to workers who are sent to China. The North Korean contacts transcribed their answers by hand, and then took photos of the completed questionnaires and sent them, using encrypted phones, to the investigators, who sent them to me. North Koreans who are still in China were interviewed in a similar fashion. Because of these layers of protection, it is, of course, impossible to fully verify the content of the interviews. But the responses were reviewed by experts to make sure that they are consistent with what is broadly known about the work-transfer program, and in line with interviews given by North Korean defectors. (Recently, the investigators checked in on the interviewers and interviewees, and everyone was safe.)
In their answers, the workers described crushing loneliness. The work was arduous, the factories smelled, and violence was common. “They kicked us and treated us as subhuman,” the worker who processed clams in Dandong said. Asked if they could recount any happy moments, most said that there had been none. A few said that they felt relieved when they returned home and got some of their pay. “I was happy when the money wasn’t all taken out,” the woman who did product transport in Dalian said. One woman said that her experience at a Chinese plant made her feel like she “wanted to die.” Another said that she often felt tired and upset while she was working, but kept those thoughts to herself to avoid reprisals. “It was lonely,” she said. “I hated the military-like communal life.”
The most striking pattern was the women’s description of sexual abuse. Of twenty workers, seventeen said that they had been sexually assaulted by their North Korean managers. They described a range of tactics used to coerce them into having sex. Some managers pretended to wipe something from their uniforms, only to grope them. Some called them into their offices as if there were an emergency, then demanded sex. Others asked them to serve alcohol at a weekend party, then assaulted them there. “When they drank, they touched my body everywhere like playing with toys,” a woman said. The woman who did product transport in Dalian said, “When they suddenly put their mouths to mine, I wanted to throw up.” If the women didn’t comply, the managers could become violent. The worker who was at Haiqing for more than four years said, of her manager, “When he doesn’t get his way sexually, he gets angry and kicks me. . . . He calls me a ‘fucking bitch.’ ” Three of the women said that their managers had forced workers into prostitution. “Whenever they can, they flirt with us to the point of nausea and force us to have sex for money, and it’s even worse if you’re pretty,” another worker at Haiqing said. The worker from Jinhui noted, “Even when there was no work during the pandemic, the state demanded foreign-currency funds out of loyalty, so managers forced workers to sell their bodies.” The worker who spent more than four years at Haiqing said, of the managers, “They forced virgin workers into prostitution, claiming that they had to meet state-set quotas.”
The pandemic made life more difficult for many of the women. When China closed its borders, some found themselves trapped far from home. Often, their workplaces shut down, and they lost their incomes. North Korean workers sometimes pay bribes to government officials to secure posts in China, and, during the pandemic, many borrowed these funds from loan sharks. The loans, typically between two and three thousand dollars, came with high interest rates. Because of work stoppages in China, North Korean workers were unable to pay back their loans, and loan sharks sent thugs to their relatives’ homes to intimidate them. Some of their families had to sell their houses to settle the debts. In 2023, according to Radio Free Asia, two North Korean women at textile plants killed themselves. The worker who told me that she wanted to die said that such deaths are often kept hidden. “If someone dies from suicide, then the manager is responsible, so they keep it under wraps to keep it from being leaked to other workers or Chinese people,” she said.
This past year, pandemic restrictions were lifted, and the border between China and North Korea reopened. In August, some three hundred North Korean workers boarded ten buses in Dandong to go back home. Police officers lined up around the buses to prevent defections. In photos and a video of the event, some of the women can be seen hurriedly preparing to load large suitcases onto a neon-green bus, then riding away across the Friendship Bridge. In September, another three hundred boarded a passenger train to Sinuiju, and two hundred were repatriated by plane. Workers who return face intense questioning by officials. “They asked about every single thing that happened every day from morning to evening in China, about other workers, supervisors, and agents,” the worker who processed clams in Dandong explained. As 2023 ended, the North Korean government began planning to dispatch its next wave of workers. In the past couple of years, according to reporting by Hyemin Son, a North Korean defector who works for Radio Free Asia, labor brokers have requested that Chinese companies pay a large advance; they were being asked to pay ahead of time, one broker told her, because “Chinese companies cannot operate without North Korean manpower.”
Some North Korean workers have yet to go home. One woman said that she has spent the past several years gutting fish at a processing plant in Dalian. She described working late into the night and getting sores in her mouth from stress and exhaustion. In the questionnaire, I had asked about the worst part of her job, and she said, “When I am forced to have sex.” She also described a sense of imprisonment that felt suffocating. “If you show even the slightest attitude, they will treat you like an insect,” she said. “Living a life where we can’t see the outside world as we please is so difficult that it’s killing us.” ♦
After a tragic accident over a hundred years ago he had learned one thing - He can't die.
Now, he adopted a new name - Phoenix - as a phoenix rises from the ashes.
However, was it meant for this to happen in order to meet the people that came across his long life?
Day 2 of the AU-gust Writing Challenge 2023! - Immortals!
Character: Phoenix Wright
Thought of Phoenix as the first thing because of his name and the legends of the mythical bird.
AO3 DAY 1
The first time he had “died” it was the most excruciating pain he had ever experienced in his life.
The young man had been working with the other factory workers when suddenly there were told to evacuate. Everyone was in a state of panic, trampling one another, throwing each other to the ground to make sure they were ahead.
But none of them were going to escape.
Whatever project they were working on had overloaded, causing the entire factory to explode. Glass and shards of metal shot through his body like bullets. When he placed his hands on his stomach, a piece of pipe had greeted him as it had impaled him from behind.
There was no escape except to accept the embrace of death – so that was what he did.
Except… he didn’t die.
He awoke God knows how much later, the area around him decimated. A hand to his head in confusion, he simply got and began walking, not noticing the trails of ash dropping behind him.
**
Not much had changed for him in the next hundred or so years – he had decided to go with a new name: Phoenix.
After all, when a phoenix dies, they rise from the ashes, right?
Phoenix had done many things over the century. He had learned medicine and had become a doctor in different fields in different countries. The clinics he was in were quite successful for the most part.
Until random warlords came in and blew his brains out.
But, he rose again and left – the people had to believe that he was dead. How would they react to someone like him?
Phoenix at one point had become an engineer. He was part of a team that helped develop nuclear technology. It was an interesting experience to see how that technology came together.
That was until he saw it firsthand when he took a small getaway to Hiroshima, Japan and was literally blown away by the thing he helped with.
Had to scrap that life too.
Phoenix had been many things – a teacher, a construction worker, a pianist, an architect, and many odd things in-between. It wasn’t until he decided to settle in the Los Angeles area around the year 2012 that he wanted to do something different – art.
He wanted to be part of something meaningful for once. It was a good thing that he happened to look quite young despite being over a hundred years old. What Ivy University didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Good thing at one point in his life he was good at making documents as he was able to forge himself a very convincing birth certificate for admit into the college. He also had forge himself a vaccination record, documentation about parents and bank statements to get himself cosigners for an apartment; luckily that was paid off quickly as he had many stashed bank accounts over the years that had accumulated funds with great interest.
It was a lot of work – but getting himself into the art program at Ivy University before the first day of the new semester was a synch. No one suspected a thing and every one looked at Phoenix like he was a dumb, naïve twenty-one-year-old boy who didn’t know his head from his ass.
And that was perfect.
However, it didn’t help that Phoenix had also decided at the time after watching a court case on the television that being a type of lawyer would be interesting too – sometimes he was overzealous with his interests. After all, he was never a lawyer before either. He honestly didn’t want to wait until he was “killed” again to start that career path, so he took law as a minor.
As he was in the basement one morning of the courthouse, looking at old court files for a law assignment he was working on, a young woman rushed down the stairs. Her blood-red hair was so deep it looked as though it came from her veins themselves. Her large, youthful brown eyes were darting around wildly, her hands gripping a white laced parasol.
Then their eyes met.
For the past hundred years there was something that Phoenix could say that he had never done – he had never been with anyone. He had thought it would be too dangerous and too suspicious as he didn’t age and of course when he “died” he had to immediately skip town.
But there was something desperate in this young woman’s eyes…
And that was where the trouble had begun.
A glass heart-shaped necklace was given to him – thrusted upon him actually – as she stated that she liked him. How could that be? They had never met before!
Despite being someone over a hundred years old, what Phoenix did in that moment was the stupidest thing he had ever done.
He trusted that woman – Dahlia Hawthorne – completely.
Phoenix and her dated for eight months. There were no incidents as far as he knew. She was actually quite sweet and kind, often cooking him nice foods that he thought were cute. Occasionally he surprised her with a romantic dinner that he had cooked himself as at one point in his many years he was a chef.
By the fourth month of him dating her he had gained a new experience in his life – she was the first person he had ever made love with.
Then out of the blue a young man she had previously dated began to warn Phoenix that she was dangerous and had stolen top chemicals from the pharmacology department. In Phoenix’s experience when he was a doctor, medicine had come a long way – so the chemicals that this Doug Swallow guy listed were very unfamiliar to him.
There was an argument, and of course, being the passionate person that he was, Phoenix aggressively pushed Doug to the ground and stormed off. However, he felt guilty about potentially hurting the young man, so he had turned around to go assist him.
Only to see Dahlia crouched over the corpse of Doug.
“Oh, Feenie… this isn’t what it looks like…” she had said sweetly, but her tone seemed forced. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Phoenix could add to his long list of life being on trial of accused murder though.
He doesn’t know why, even to this day, why he tried to cover her for as long as he did. Even his lawyer at the time, Mia Fey, was beginning to grow frustrated and annoyed. It was then Phoenix made mistake number two.
He consumed the necklace that Dahlia had given him the day they met… right after it was revealed to be potentially laced with deadly poison that had put an attorney in a coma eight months prior.
Either luckily or unluckily the poison didn’t kill him. Well, it did, but it didn’t. Phoenix had gone through his normal cycle in the bathroom of the courthouse where he ate the necklace behind locked doors.
The burning sensation that he always went through was never bearable, no matter how many times it happened.
When his body “dies” all his cells began to combust simultaneously into flames, leaving nothing but ashes behind him. It was starting life anew – a phoenix rising from the ashes. To be honest, he lost count how many times he had gone through this process. But it did confirm one thing to him.
Dahlia had never cared for him – she had tried to kill the lawyer eight months prior.
And the bottle of cold medicine that she had stolen from Phoenix as he was a little under the weather… she had laced it with the same poison in an attempt to kill him.
Although a dark tough did cross his mind at that point: How shocked would Dahlia would have been to see Phoenix consume the poison and “live”?
It didn’t matter in the end as Dahlia Hawthorne was arrested for the attempted murder of Diego Armando from eight months prior, the attempted murder of Phoenix Wright, the murder of Doug Swallow, and stealing highly toxic chemicals. The young woman was put in cuffs and dragged off, screaming curses to anyone who would listen.
The lawyer that had defended him, Mia Fey, offered to mentor him with his legal path from there on out. There was something about her that he knew he could trust – an energy that she emitted. So, he took her offer fully.
For three years he studied like a “normal” person and became a lawyer – he honestly could’ve done it much faster, but it would’ve been suspicious. Phoenix ended up with his own shiny Attorney’s Badge and began to work as a Junior Partner with Mia at her own firm of “Fey and Co.”.
It was a nice change of pace – no extreme dangers. Phoenix even debuted as a lawyer defended a friend he had made from one of his “odd” jobs from the pass from murder. It went like a breeze and he was able to find the true culprit in no time.
Then a couple of nights later when Mia had invited Phoenix out for some drinks, he re-learned his lesson on why he never got close to anyone.
Phoenix arrived to the office to see that his boss, his mentor, his beloved friend was slumped underneath the window. Blood was dripping from a wound on her head, already beginning to clot as she had been sitting there for a an hour.
Mia Fey had been murdered.
A small girl was sitting by Mia’s side, bawling her eyes out, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. The girl begged at whatever god she could pray to for her sister’s life back.
Sister…?
Mia had never mentioned a sister to him before…
The girl – who he learned was Maya Fey – was then promptly arrested for the murder of Mia Fey. It was ridiculous and made no sense at that logic – Phoenix had tried to point that out multiple times. The detective in question, however, was hearing none of it as he stated the proof was because Mia left evidence of her writing the name of her killer behind.
Maya’s.
Phoenix had instantly felt connected to the young girl – he couldn’t put his finger on it. She was an odd one as she was a Spirit Medium in training. Maya was constantly wearing her acolyte robes, purple and white, and had her raven black hair in a top knot with decorative purple beads in the front holding two strands of her hair.
Seeing her behind that glass in the Detention Center – she looked so small and helpless. It was no place for her to be.
Despite Maya trying to reject his offer of being her attorney – Phoenix insisted on it. He was going to defend her. After all – Mia would’ve wanted it, right?
Odds were stacked against the two of them – a dark past unraveling that Phoenix had only heard whispers through the grapevine over the years. A dark corporation that specialized in blackmail had ruined Mia and Maya’s mother’s reputation as a Spirit Medium due to an old murder case from fifteen years prior. So, Mia was doing digging of her own to get all the evidence against the man – Redd White – to get the names of politicians, people in the high legal system, cops, and so on to finally put him away.
Mia was killed for it – but with Phoenix and Maya’s teamwork they were able to force Redd White to admit his guilt.
The two had become inseparable since that trial as Phoenix felt an extreme protectiveness over Maya. They had done a few trials together and when it came to the trial of the rival prosecutor they had faced since Mia’s murder, it was the first time Maya realized there may be something different about him.
“Hey, Nick…” Maya had asked when they two where at Gourd Lake doing their investigation for Miles Edgeworth’s trial.
“Hmm?” Phoenix had replied with a hum absently. He never really responded to a nickname for his name, but with Maya he had made an exception.
“Why aren’t you wearing a coat…?”
“Wha…?”
It was true that at that moment Phoenix wasn’t wearing a coat, just his traditional blue suit he liked to wear for court. Maya on the other hand was bundled in a winter coat with a small purple hat and gloves.
“Oh… I’m not cold…” he half-lied.
At one point in his long life, he had frozen to death. Ever since he had risen from those ashes, he no longer could feel cold or get frost bitten. He had no idea why that happened – he noticed when he was shot a few times after getting killed by bullets that they hurt like a son of bitch, but they didn’t kill him again. It was the same with stabbing. Or a broken neck.
“Nick…”
**
The trial against Miles Edgeworth ended up being acquitted – although there were a few tough calls.
One, the prosecutor for the trial was Manfred von Karma – who was Miles’ mentor. The man was evil and devious and had cornered both Phoenix and Maya in the evidence room at the police precinct. The devilish prosecutor had a high voltage taser that should have highly illegal to use and tried to strike Maya with it.
Phoenix would never let that happen – so he was struck with it instead. His body was jolted with thousands of volts of electricity until he felt that familiar burning sensation. He crumpled to the ground and von Karma had run away with the evidence he needed to have stayed hidden. Maya collapsed to the ground next to Phoenix with tears in her eyes as she tried to call desperately for help.
“No, I can’t have someone else I care about die on me again…!” Maya had sobbed. “Please don’t…!” Her hands had brushed against his hand, and she yelped when the skin flaked away in ash.
A gasp had escaped from Phoenix as though it was the first time he had ever breathed oxygen, his hand clenching to his chest.
“I guess I can scratch that off the list…” he’d murmured.
Maya had looked at him with wide eyes. “What… the HELL was that, Nick!?” she demanded.
Phoenix at the time jumped away from her, his back hitting a file cabinet. “Ah… hold on, Maya… I can explain… sort of…” he insisted meekly.
“What’s with these ashes!?” she’d nearly shrieked, her hands gesturing to the ashes that were dusting the floor and files.
“Uh… we need to clean that up…”
“This is not helping, Phoenix Wright!”
“Okay, okay!” Phoenix had then taken a deep breath. “I… sort of can’t die…?” he’d said it like a question.
Maya had given him a perplexed look. “What do you mean…?”
“It means I have been alive for over a hundred years and have never aged,” he pointed out. “I have been shot, stabbed, nuclear bombed, ate poison, died of hypothermia, starved to death, died of dehydration, and now have been electrocuted and I’m still kicking.”
Maya then blinked. “So… all my ‘Old Man’ jokes are legit…?” she had asked innocently with a coy smile.
Phoenix had gawked at her. “You just saw me die and come back and that is the first thing you think of!?” he demanded almost angrily.
Maya had merely shrugged. “Nick… I’m a damn Spirit Medium, this is probably, like, in the top five weirdest experiences I’ve ever had,” she nonchalantly said to him.
Phoenix’s secret was out – he didn’t have to keep lying to Maya about himself anymore. And it was a great weight that was lifted from his shoulders.
Once the trial had ended – Miles Edgeworth had kept eyeing Phoenix oddly. It was as though he was finally recognizing him from somewhere.
“I do want to thank you for all your work here today, Phoenix,” Miles told him, reaching his hand out for a handshake.
“Oh, yeah, the pleasure is all mine, Miles,” Phoenix sheepishly smiled. “What are friends for?”
Miles raised a gray brow. “So, you recognize me too, then?” he finally asked.
Miles gave a small shake of his head. “The factory over a hundred years ago…” he calmly recalled.
Phoenix went rigid. In all his years, he had never spoken to anyone about that.
“The one who tried to warn everybody when one of the machines overloaded…?” Miles prodded. “That was me… I was too late…” He crossed his arms in a nervous matter, his right crossing to his left and gripping tightly. “So many of the workers… they were throwing each other to the ground and hurting each other to get to safety…”
“How… how do…”
“But you didn’t do that…” Miles continued, ignoring him. “In fact, you saved me…”
Maya was invested. “So… you have the same thing as Nick, Mr. Edgeworth?” she asked softly.
Miles looked down at her. “Yes…” he replied. “I too have died many a times over the years… the burning sensation and the ashes…” He then touched his hair. “It’s happened so often that my hair has turned permanently gray.”
Phoenix raised his hands. “Whoa… wait… back up a minute here…” he insisted. “How did I save you?”
Miles gave a small smirk. “Oh… I guess I should elaborate…” he chuckled lightly. “I was the son of the owner of that factory. The workers were mining and refining some sort of fossilized meteorite from thousands of years ago…
“There was radiation, which back then many people didn’t have experience with. When one of the machines cracked a meteorite… the radiation leaked out and affect the machines and caused them to overload.” Miles took a deep breath, remembering the details. “I was close to one of the sites and noticed the machines going haywire… so, I went to try to warn the other workers.
“My father was not pleased… he wanted you all to keep working, to keep digging. I refused to let it continue. The radiation kept leaking and I warned you all to the best of my ability… my father was angry and tried to throw me against a machine – but you… you Phoenix…” Miles trailed off.
Phoenix rubbed his head, trying to recall that night. Ever since that first death, he barely had any recollection of what had happened. However, the more that Miles talked, the more the man began to feel familiar. Instead of wearing the burgundy suit that Phoenix was familiar with, he recalled Miles wearing a wine-colored waistcoat with a cotton white undershirt and a black newspaper boy-styled cap on what was once his dark brown hair.
Phoenix remembered at that instant. He remembered the machine was being overloaded with energy. Miles’ father was enraged from the young man trying to warn the workers and had tried to throw him against the machine. Phoenix, who was running one of the machines, had stopped dead in his tracks from trying to evacuate and stopped the man from doing so. It was futile as the machine still exploded.
The glass shards going through his body… the metal… the steel pipe…
“Are you implying that the radiation…?” Phoenix finally whispered.
“Gave us some sort of immortality?” Miles finished. “Yes… the meteorite was obviously not from our solar system…”
“Why us…?”
Miles shrugged. “That… I am not sure…” he honestly said. “But whatever the reason… I’m glad to have seen my friend again…”
Phoenix then felt a small hand clasp into his. He looked down to see Maya smile up at him.
“And I’m glad I got to meet you too, Nick…” she told him honestly. “I think Mia may have known something different about you… we Fey’s have this uncanny ability about this stuff.”
Phoenix blinked at her. Even though he potentially can live forever – he didn’t want to leave Maya behind at all. During his years he had never put much thought into trying to cure his immortality – but after meeting Maya and a few other people recently he rather stick around and age with them.
“You know what… I’m glad too…”
Notes:
- There will be a PART 2 of this eventually lmao...
- Also, LIGHT GHOST TRICK REFERENCE WHHHHHATTTTT? MEEEEEE? If you haven't played the game yet, I'm not spoiling anything - GO PLAY IT!
- Not gonna lie these AU Writings are cutting into "The Found Turnabout" and "Born to Run", even though I tried to write a few of these ahead of time. Whoops.
a/n: okay, here it is! a lot of you really wanted me to post this on here, SO THAT MEANS I’M GONNA SEE LOTS OF FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS, RIGHT?! Can’t wait to know what you think of this one! [Patreon] [Buy Me A Coffee] (not proofread) I was inspired by a lot of different things with this, it’s sort of like Scarlet Witch meets The Dragon Prince meets ATLA??? Also, Harry is a major himbo in this, and we love that for him.
“What do you do with a BA in English?” The age-old question that was coined from the hit musical, Avenue Q. Harry thought he had the answer to that question, and it was go to graduate school to get his MEd in English. He’d get his K-12 certification, not that he wanted to work in a K-12 school system. No, he wanted to be a literary professor. He wanted to be able to have high level discussions about the classics, post-modernism, film adaptations, and more. He loved reading, ever since he was a little kid there was a book in his hands. There was just something about getting lost in a world that someone else created for a bit, and then analyzing the shit out of it.
He had already done a semester of student-teaching as a senior, he didn’t love it. He took a gap year trying to find a publishing company to work at. He thought he could maybe be an editor. Harry soon realized he didn’t like being told what to read, and the pay was pretty low. He even tried working at a bookstore for a bit. It wasn’t as much fun as he thought. So, at the age of twenty-four, he enrolled in a master’s program to get his Med in English. At least this time when he’d have to student-teach, he’d be doing it at a collegiate level. He knew he’d get stuck teaching a couple of sections of first-year composition, but he had no problem teaching students how to properly construct a paper. There were three classes he needed to take in the fall, all of them being online-asynchronous: Social Behavior in a Diverse Society, Philosophy, Ethics, & Education, and Teacher Action Research.
Since Harry had a semester of teaching under his belt, he was able to get a better paying grant, and wouldn’t have to just TA, he could actually teach. He’d still be subject to observation, but at least he could be trusted. So, he’d be teaching two sections of Composition, and one section of Fiction Workshop, where students would read texts Harry picks out, and discuss them. Fiction was his favorite, so he was really excited to be teaching this particular course.
The university he was attending was on the east coast in the states, a very picturesque college town by the seacoast. Harry loved fall, so he was happy about getting to be immersed in the season. So, he had his courses settled that he had to take, he knew what he was teaching and set up his Canvas pages, the last thing he needed to figure out was a place to live. He had been staying at a motel in the area, but that was starting to get pricey. He looked around online, but there wasn’t much out there. He also didn’t want to get stuck living with a bunch of undergrads that were loud and partied. He asked the other faculty in the English department if they knew of anything, but they didn’t.
Harry decided to go for a walk in the downtown area, and see if there were any ads in some of the shop windows. A lot of the buildings looked to be apartments up top. On his walk, he noticed an interesting looking café. There were other coffee shops in town, and this one looked to be almost deserted. Harry shrugs his shoulders and heads inside. A chime sounds as he walks in, and he sees that it’s almost like a country store. There’re tee shirts, sweatshirts, scarves, gloves, books, knick-knacks, and treats. This seemed like a neat little place, why wouldn’t there be a lot of people here? It was still summer, maybe it was more of a college student hangout?
Even though it was still summer, the place smelled like cinnamon and apples. The fresh smell of coffee wafted through the air as well. From the back comes a woman wearing a green apron over her clothes, dusting her hands off. Harry stops in his tracks as he looks at her. She had these piercing blue eyes that resembled sapphires. Her hair was up in a loose, wavy ponytail, the color being one of those silver/lavender mixes, a contrast to her dark eyebrows. She was a short thing, couldn’t have been a little more than five feet tall. Her nails were painted black, and she had this gorgeous necklace hanging around her neck. She also had various piercings in her ears, and a silver hoop in her left nostril.
“May I help you?” She asks Harry just as a Siberian husky comes trotting out by her side.
“Hi! I’m new to the area, and I was just strolling by and saw your shop…um, do you have iced tea?”
“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “Come over to the counter.” The dog circles around Harry, sniffing at his legs. “Are you okay with dogs?”
“Love ‘em! Boy, girl?”
“She’s a girl, her name is Opal.”
“That’s a lovely name.” Harry smiles, and leans down a bit to let Opal sniff his hand. “She’s a beautiful dog.”
“Thank you. So…you said you wanted an iced tea? Here’s the list of flavors.” She taps a laminated paper that’s taped to the counter.
“Right, yeah, um…what do you recommend?”
She furrows her brows at him for a moment, studying his face.
“I just drink the plain, black tea with a dash of sugar syrup.”
“Then I’ll have that.” He smiles.
She nods, gets a cup to fill with ice, and goes into one of the small fridges where the tea was chilling. She adds the syrup and then the tea, then snaps a sippy-cup style lid on top.
“Here you go. That’ll be $3.99.”
Harry sets a five-dollar-bill on the counter.
“Keep the change.”
“Thanks.” She puts the rest in the tip jar.
“What’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.” He says before taking a sip of the tea.
“It’s Amber.”
“Amber! Oh, is that why you’re wearing one?” He points to her necklace.
“Well, I was given this when I was a little girl.” She says as she looks down at it, then back up to him.
“Do you mind if I peruse around the store a bit? Although, I shouldn’t be buying any trinkets until I actually find a place to put them.”
“What do you mean?” She blinks at him. Who was this man and why was he being so friendly with her?
“I’m new to the area, and I’ve been having a tough time finding a place to live. I’m at one of the nearby hotels, but I can’t stay there much longer. You wouldn’t happen to know of any vacant apartments, would you?”
“Sure she does!” Another woman comes out from the back. “Amber owns the whole building, which means she owns the apartments upstairs.”
“Penny.” Amber seethes, and then looks at Harry. “I’m sorry, I don’t rent to college students.”
“I’m a graduate student, and I’m also going to be teaching. M’not loud, and I keep things tidy. I’d be happy to fill out an application if you like.” He smiles. “Plus, I could be a walking advertisement for the place because this tea is incredible.”
“The shop does well for itself.” Amber mutters.
“Oh, just give the boy an application.” Penny says.
“Fine.” Amber sighs, and ducks down to grab an application. She hands it to Harry reluctantly. “My email is on the bottom. Just scan it and send it to me that way, and I’ll get back to you.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” Penny smiles. “Parking’s included.” Amber glares at her. “Well, I’m just going to head back to the back, take stock of things.”
“You do that.” Amber says, shaking her head, and then looking at Harry. “She’s a good worker, but she’s nosey as shit. So, you’re a grad student?”
“Mhm, and I’m twenty-four, so I’m not fresh out of undergrad either. I’m going for my MEd in English, and I’ll be teaching a few classes as well. I’m excited to get started.”
“English, huh?”
“Mhm.” Harry smiles.
“You must really like to read.”
“I do.” He nods. “Do you?”
“No, I hate it actually.”
“But…there are so many books here.”
“Yeah, the majority of them are cook books, or informational books about the area. I’ve never really cared for reading. It’s a waste of time, if I’m being honest.”
“A…a waste of time?” He blinks at her.
“If I’m reading, it’s so I can learn something.”
“But even if it’s fiction, you can still learn so many life lessons.”
“Maybe worry about teaching that to your students instead of me. I’m a lost cause.” She smirks. “I need to finish up what I was doing in the back, so if you still want to peruse…”
“No, uh, I’ll get out of hair. I’ll email this over to you later tonight. It was nice meeting you.” He looks down at Opal who was eyeing him carefully. “And it was nice meeting you too, gorgeous girl.” He smiles, and leaves the shop.
Amber takes a deep breath and heads into the back where Penny is. She glares at her, and it makes Penny laugh.
“You could use a new tenant.” Penny says to her.
“I don’t need you finding one for me.”
“He’s cute.”
“He’s annoying.” Amber deadpans. “Practically told me his whole life story!”
“He clearly felt comfortable around you.”
“So? He’s an English professor or something, how pretentious.” She makes a disgusted noise.
“Just give his application a fair shot, would you?”
“I will, but only because if I don’t I know you’ll keep bugging me about it.”
//
Harry couldn’t believe that he just heard with his own two ears that reading was a waste of time. He knew there were people that didn’t care for it in the way that he did, but Amber said she hated it. He couldn’t fret over it too much, though, because either way he still needed an apartment, and she had a vacancy open. So, when he got back to the hotel later that day, he worked on his application, and emailed it over to Amber. The name of shop was cute: Opal’s Café & Convenience. He found it endearing that she named it after her dog. Amber seemed rough around the edges, but maybe Harry could be the one to smooth her out a bit.
//
Much to Amber’s dismay, Harry was the perfect applicant. He didn’t have any pets, he wouldn’t be throwing wild parties, his credit checked out, and his references were solid. Amber would be stupid not to let him take one of her apartments. She emailed him back and let him know it was his if he wanted it, and when he could move in. In the email, she attached a list of rules he’d need to follow when being one of her tenants. She lived in the building as well, and she valued her privacy. She explained that she would often make a lot of tea in her own apartment, so Harry might catch a whiff once in a while.
Harry was so thrilled he’d have an actual place to live just in time for school starting that he agreed to all of her conditions. So what if he’d smell tea once in a while? There were far worse smells out there. Harry packed everything into his car, and headed over to the building as soon as he could. He found his parking spot, and started moving things up. His apartment was on the floor beneath Amber’s. She had the entire top floor to herself. Harry was surprised that he’d have the whole second floor to himself. It was a spacious one bedroom that he was grateful for. He was drenched with sweat by the time he got the last of things upstairs. The first thing on his list was to install his air conditioner. He tore his shirt off, kept the front door open for some airflow, and got to work putting the air conditioner in the main window of the living room. It was the space he’d be in most, so he wanted it cooler in there. He could always leave his bedroom door open or just use a fan at night.
Amber was heading down the stairs with Opal, and noticed Harry’s door was open. She was about to get to work opening the shop. Her eyes widen when she sees that he’s shirtless, littered with tattoos. He just happens to turn and see her standing in the doorway.
“Oh, hi!” He smiles, and walks over to the door, bending a bit to pet Opal.
“Everything going okay so far?” Amber asks.
“Mhm.” Harry nods, crossing his arms. “Just got the A/C installed, so it’ll be nice and cool soon. Thanks again for letting me rent from you.”
“Yeah, well…it’s money.” She shrugs. “Look, uh, there’s a basement here too, don’t go down there. It’s locked anyways, but I keep all of the supplies for the shop in the basement, so…it’s off limits.”
“Oh, no worries. I’ve got plenty of space up here. I don’t have a bike or anything, so I don’t think I’d even need the extra storage.”
“Good.” She nods. “Well, I’m headed down to open up. See you around.” She snaps her fingers to get Opal’s attention, and they go downstairs. Once they’re down in the shop, Amber notices Opal looking at her. “Don’t even start, I already know you’re on Penny’s side.” She sighs.
“He is awful cute.” Opal says. She and Amber could communicate telepathically.
“I have more important things to focus on, we have more important things to focus on.” Amber crouches down to her dog. “You realize we can’t just chat freely with him around.”
“It’s the same with the college kids. He might think it’s cute that you talk to your dog.”
“I don’t really care what he thinks.” Amber rolls her eyes and stands up. “I have to get the coffee and tea going. Could you check the shelves and see what herbal teas we’re low on?”
Opal nods, and heads over to the aisles to take stock of everything. Amber gets the coffee and tea brewing so it’s fresh for the customers. Penny comes in an hour or so later to make some fresh biscotti while Amber was working on making more herbal tea. Amber’s herbal teas were quite popular with the college students. Were they laced with a little magic? Maybe, but it was all for a good cause. She had special anti-stress and anxiety teas, sleepy time teas, wake-up teas, and some teas that could put someone in the mood, but she didn’t advertise those often. She didn’t want anyone taking advantage of anyone else, she only sold it to people who knew to ask for it, and they had to sign a waiver.
Certain coffees had some magic involved too. There were coffees that were ground with something to help people focus for long period of time, coffees for all-nighters, and more. She lived in a pretty liberal area where people were super into different types of “wellness”. There were so many people that would rather try drinking an herbal tea, than take a pill, so she used that to her advantage. No one ever really questioned why her products worked so well.
Amber had been living pretty peacefully the last few years, but as of late she felt this odd disturbance. Something bad happened in the spring. Something came after Opal. Amber almost lost her best friend in the world. She had been trying to track down whatever the fuck it was, but the trail had run cold. She took the time to train and work on some of her spells. Opal explained that Amber should be able to just think and cast instead of having to say the spell out loud. She had gotten a lot better at it, and she had gotten a lot better at throwing a punch. Whatever the fuck that thing was, she’d be ready for it. Amber also didn’t want anything bad happening to the college students. They were so vulnerable as it was, but a lot of them would walk around intoxicated at night, making them the perfect target. She felt protective over her college town, she wasn’t going to let anything happen to anyone.
That’s why she had a chip on her shoulder when it came to Harry. She didn’t exactly trust the new guy, especially since he came right to her shop, and asked about a place to live. It was rather peculiar, but she thought it would be better to keep a close eye on him, so she accepted his application. No one else seemed too bothered by him, and she didn’t exactly appreciate the glances Penny and Opal gave her when it came to him. Yes, he was cute, but Amber had a hardened heart that couldn’t be so easily sueded by a handsome man with a kind a smile.
//
Harry couldn’t believe how packed the shop was once the college kids were back in town. Amber did really well for herself. He liked living above the shop a lot. Sometimes he’d buy a coffee, find a place to sit, and get some grading done, or do some homework of his own. Sometimes he’d catch Amber looking at him, a deep furrow in her dark brows. He’d give her a soft smile, and she’d just look away. Opal liked sitting by his feet. Any time he’d sit down for a bit to get some work done, there she was. He loved dogs, so he was happy she seemed to take a liking to him.
“Hey, Professor Styles!” A girl in one of his composition classes, Zoey, says to him.
“Oh, uh…it’s Zoey, right?” He looks up from his laptop.
“Mhm.” She nods. “You like to hang out here?”
“I live upstairs, actually. I like to come down here for a change of scenery. Do you come here a lot?”
“Oh, definitely. My friends and I come here almost every day. Amber has some of the best tea and coffee I’ve ever had. I was just stopping in to stock up on her sleepy time tea.”
“Sleepy time tea?”
“Yeah! Puts me right to sleep after having a small cup. You should try it.”
“Zoey, come on!” One of her friends says.
“I better go, it was nice seeing you!”
Harry waves to Zoey as she leaves to go down one of the aisles. He gets back to his work. He was doing some research for his philosophy class. He had to look into the different philosophies of various educators from a list his professor gave him. Without even realizing it, he skipped dinner, and ended up being the last person in the shop.
“Glad to see you’re making the most out of having free Wi-Fi.” Amber scoffs as she crosses her arms. “We’re closed.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Harry scrambles to pack up his things. “Time must have gotten away from me.” He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s nearly 9PM. “Fuck, I need to get to sleep. Hey, could I buy some of that sleepy time tea you sell? One of my students was telling me about it earlier.”
“Sure, you can buy a pound for fifteen dollars.” She grabs a bag of it and they both go up to the counter so she can ring him up.
“Must be good stuff if college kids can afford that.” He hands her exact change.
“It lasts a while.” She purses her lips briefly. “You may have some…vivid dreams. It’s really, um, potent, especially if it’s your first time drinking it.”
“Do you make it yourself?”
“I do.” She nods. “I promise it’s all FDA approved.” She smirks.
“I trust you, no worries.” He chuckles. “Do you need any help cleaning up?”
“No, I’m all set. Penny’s in the back still, I’ve got all the help I need.”
“Alright, well, have a good night.” He smiles.
“You too.” She watches as he heads out the door in the back to go upstairs. Amber looks down at Opal. “You need to stop sitting by him so much. He’s going to think I’m staring at him every time I look over at you.”
“I can’t help it! He smells nice.” Opal says.
“I don’t care what he smells like. We need to be cautious.”
“You worry too much. Whatever that thing was caught me on a lunar eclipse, so I couldn’t transform fully. Had I been able to, I never would have gotten hurt.”
“Yeah, and it probably knew that. Probably want to make you transform into a wolf full time. You’d become rabid.”
“I’m well aware of that. I’d be able to sniff out anything demonic about him, especially by now. He seems genuine.”
“Good for him.”
“Amber.”
“Opal.”
“Would you two give it a rest?! You’re giving me a headache.” Penny says as she comes out from the back. “We have receipts to go over.”
//
Harry took a quick shower when he got up to his apartment, and then made his tea. It tasted really good, like, the best chamomile he ever had. He only drank about half of it when his eyes started to droop while watching to TV on the sofa. So, he got his butt into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately. Amber was right about him having vivid dreams.
There he was, walking through a forest at night. He had no idea where he was going, but let his legs take him there regardless. There was a glowing light that intrigued him, so he made his way over to it. As he approached, he saw a woman from behind, her hair flowing in the breeze and her hands glowing with what looked like electrical currents. He steps on a twig by accident, catching her attention. She looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes glowing a white-hot blue.
“What are you doing here?” She says, floating in the air above him. He falls to bum and looks up at her.
“I…I don’t know.” He swallows. “What are you doing here?”
“You need to get out of here it isn’t safe!” She scolds him.
“M’sorry, I don’t even know how I ended up here.” He scrambles to his feet, and she lowers herself to the ground. Her hair was still flowing, her eyes and hands still glowing. “I saw the light and just followed it I guess. Is there a way for you to turn that off? It’s pretty bright.”
The woman takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. Her hands stop glowing, and when she opens her eyes, all Harry sees is a familiar sapphire color. He realizes who it is once her hair settles. It was that same silver/lavender color that Amber had.
“Amber?” His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing that you need to concern yourself with. Get out of here, now.” Her eyes glow again, as well as her hands, and she shoots up into the night sky without another word.
“What in the actual fuck?” Harry says to himself.
Harry woke up to his alarm the next morning not feeling groggy at all. In fact, he had never felt so refreshed after a night’s sleep! He quickly grabs his phone and opens the notes app before forgetting his dream. It was so bizarre and weird, he wasn’t quite sure what it meant, if anything at all. Why would he have a dream about Amber? And why would he dream about her glowing the way she did? He hadn’t watched Harry Potter recently, or anything of the like.
He gets dressed for the day, and decides to go into the shop for his morning coffee. The place was already bustling with early birds. Amber was behind the counter getting coffee and tea orders out. It astounded Harry that she was able to do so much by herself. He waits in line, saying hello to some of his students in the process.
“Good morning, what can I…oh, hi, Harry.” Amber sighs. “What would you like?”
“I’ll take an iced coffee, please, black.” He smiles as she nods. “That tea really put me to sleep last night. You were right, I had an odd dream.” She freezes for a moment as she scoops the ice cubes into the cup. “You were in it, actually.”
“That’ll be $3.50.” She says flatly as she sets the cup of coffee down on the counter. He hands her his card, and she runs it through the machine.
“You’re not even the least bit curious as to what I dreamed about?”
“Nope.” She smirks. “I don’t need to hear about your wet dreams.”
“It wasn’t a…I didn’t…” He shakes his head as his face flushes. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I’ve got a line of customers waiting.” She slides his card back to him.
“Can we talk later?”
“Harry, whatever it was, it was just a dream. So I was in it, so what? I’m flattered you were thinking of me, but don’t worry about it.”
“It’s just that…the strangest thing happened. Your eyes were glowing, and your hands were too, but, like, a different type of glowing, and we were in this forest. Oh! And you were, like, flying or floating, or something like that. Your hair was kind of glowing too.”
“You read too much fiction.” She rolls her eyes. “Buh-bye.”
“But-“
“Next!” She shouts, and it makes him flinch. He grabs his drink and leaves. Amber looks down at Opal, who was about to say something, but Amber shakes her head as to warn her.
“Amber, we need to talk about this.”
“Later, I have customers.” She whispers down at Opal, and looks at the next person in line. “Good morning.” She smiles.
Harry was so distracted during his classes, he ended up showing the movie version of The Grapes of Wrath to his fiction workshop class. It worked with the unit they were since they were discussing historical fiction. He wanted to know why Amber was so cold to him even though she was plenty kind to just about everyone else that stepped through her shop. He also wanted to discuss his dream with her. It felt so real, and he wanted to know why. He had a few students come see him during his office hours, and he tried to be as present as possible for those. There was one girl in his fiction class that came to just about all of his office hours, and normally he didn’t mind, but he had a lot of course work to do, and some grading to get done. He was also in a rush to get back to the shop.
“Hi, Professor Styles.” Whitney smiles.
“Hi, Whitney.” Harry sighs as she sits down.
“Are you feeling alright today?”
“Just a little stressed. I’ve got some work for the classes I’m taking to get done.”
“It’s so cool that you’re a grad student. You’re so good at teaching, I never would have guessed you weren’t a full professor.” She had a tendency to flirt with him. She was a senior, and twenty-one. In any other scenario, Harry probably would have gone for it since he was only a few years older, but he wasn’t about to start dating a student.
“Thanks, that means a lot. Listen, uh, I know we usually chat for a bit, but I really need to get some work done, so unless this is class related…”
“Oh.” She sits up a little straighter. “Um, I guess I don’t really have any questions…I will say, watching the movie helped me understand the book a little better. I was supposed to read it in high school, but I just used spark notes back in the day.”
“Good! I’m glad you have a better understanding of the themes.”
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Have a good weekend!”
“Thanks, Whitney, you too.”
They smile at each other before she leaves. He runs a hand through his hair, and attempts to get some of his grading done. Once he makes a decent enough dent, he packs his things and heads to the shop. He finds an open table to sit at, and gets to work on his courses. He was sitting near one of the aisles with the mood enhancing tea.
“I’m telling you, I’ve never been so wet in my life.” Normally, Harry wouldn’t eavesdrop, but a sentence like that was something he couldn’t just ignore. “This stuff really works.”
“Okay, but how was Robbie?”
“Hard as a rock, and desperate to please. He went down on me for, like, twenty minutes! He said I never tasted so good. We fucked for, like, an hour total. It was incredible. I’m definitely buying this stuff again. I couldn’t recommend it enough.”
“Does it taste good?”
“Mhm, like strawberries. I think that’s why it makes for such a good aphrodisiac. There’s a chocolate flavor too, but Amber said that one’s really strong, and it’s better to start out with the strawberry flavor.”
“Oh, damn, I’ll have to ask her about it then. Look, she restocked the anti-anxiety tea! The blueberry flavor is my absolute favorite.”
“I like the lemon, personally, but to each their own.”
Harry couldn’t believe what he heard, more so at the beginning of the girls’ conversation. How the fuck was he supposed to concentrate on his work now? He needed to wait out the customers like he did the night before. Opal comes trotting over to him like usual.
“Hey, there, pretty girl.” He pats the top of her head. “Thought about you today. You gonna curl up around my feet again?” Opal does just that and lets out a such that makes Harry chuckle. As the sun sets, and less people are in the shop, Harry finishes up his work. He notices Amber wiping down the tables. “Hey.” He says to her, standing up and walking over to her. “Could we talk?”
“Is this still about your dream? I told you might have some weird, vivid ones with it being your first time drinking the tea.”
“It’s just…I don’t know why I would have dreamt something like that. I asked you what was wrong, and you told me it was nothing I needed to worry about.”
“Hm, sounds like dream me is a lot like the actual me.” She smirks. Harry frowns slight, and she sighs. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?”
“A little, yeah.”
Amber looks down at Opal, and then back to Harry.
“I wish I could be more help, but it was just a dream, Harry. Try having some more tea tonight and see what you dream about.” She looks down at her watch. “I need to close up early, I have somewhere to be in a bit.”
“Oh, uh, do you have a date, or something?”
“What? No.” She scoffs. “I take Opal for a long walk on Friday nights. She gets antsy if we don’t leave on time.”
“Is that safe?”
“Of course it is.” She blinks at Harry. “We just go walking through some of the neighborhoods with the students live off campus.”
“Could I join you? Haven’t explored the area all that much.”
“Wouldn’t it be weird for you? In case you run into your students?”
“Nah.” He shrugs. “Doubt they’ll recognize me in the dark.”
“Let him come with us.” Opal says, and Amber glares down at her. “I know we were going for a hunt, but it might be good to get to know him better. His dream could mean something.”
“Ugh, fine!” Her voice startles Harry a bit. “Be at your door in ten minutes with some sensible shoes on.” She looks down at the loafers he’s wearing. “You’ll wanna wear sneakers, Grandpa.”
//
Ten minutes later, Harry was waiting outside his door for Amber. He decided to wear his light-wash jeans and a windbreaker, along with his glasses. Amber came down the stairs with Opal wearing a long black jacket, and black jeans tucked into a pair of combat boots. Her hair was down for a change, Harry thought it looked beautiful.
“Ready?” She asks him.
“Mhm, you’re not going to put a leash on Opal?”
“Nah, she’s not the type to run away.” They both head down the stairs and out the back door to the street. They make their way to the off-campus neighborhood.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, how long have you been dying your hair that color? It’s really pretty.”
“Huh?”
“Your roots never show either, do you touch it up at home?”
“I don’t dye my hair.”
“Amber, remember who you’re talking to.” Opal says.
“I mean, uh, I have a hairdresser do it.” She smiles weakly at Harry. “I go every six weeks like clockwork. My hair’s, uh, naturally blonde, so my roots don’t show.”
“Really? But your eyebrows are so dark?”
“Dye those too.” Amber hated lying about herself, but there was nothing she could really do about it. “I don’t really like talking about myself, um, let’s talk about you. How come you’re going to grad school here and teaching?”
“Well, I love literature, reading and whatnot. I have a degree in English Education, but I wanna teach at a collegiate level, so I got into the master’s program here, and they’re letting me teaching. I’m technically a grad assistant, but I have my own classes.” They cross the street, and head up a slight hill. “Sort of hurt a bit when you said you hated reading.” He chuckles.
“I’m not going to apologize for that. I genuinely hate it if it’s not for research.”
“Did something make you not like reading as a kid?”
“I didn’t have much of a chance to read as a kid.” She mutters. “I went to an agricultural boarding school growing up, not much time for reading fantasy books when you’re working the land.”
“Wow! Why’d you do that?”
“I didn’t really have of a choice.”
“How come?”
“I just didn’t. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Well, is that how you got so good at making tea and coffee? I overheard some girls talking earlier, uh, you make an aphrodisiac?”
“I make a few, yeah. What did you hear?”
“That they work really well.” He smirks.
“They do. I only put out the best.”
“What would make you put out a product like that?”
“Sex sells.” She grins at him.
“Have you ever tested your product?”
“Sure, I test all of them to make sure they work properly.”
“And you found that it worked properly?” He smirks.
Amber is about to make a smart remark when she hears a blood curdling scream. She and Opal look at each other before sprinting off in the direction of the scream. Harry’s puzzled, and concerned, so he runs after them. He couldn’t believe how fast Amber could run. They all hear the scream again, and run towards the beginning of one of the walking trails. Harry loses sight of Amber and Opal as they run deeper into the woods. Harry’s stumped on where they could have gone. He uses the flashlight on his phone to help him see better.
“Help!” He hears a woman yell, and runs towards the sound.
When he gets closer, he starts getting major déjà vu. It was just like his dream. He stops short when he finds Amber and Opal. Opal’s eyes were glowing a striking blue and so were Amber’s. Amber’s necklace was glowing bright orange too. There was a woman on the ground, knocked unconscious. There was some odd shadow looming over her. All of a sudden, Amber’s hands start glowing, and what looks like electricity comes from her fingertips. It latches around the shadow like shackles, and it bellows a horrible sound.
“Who sent you?!” Amber yells to the shadow, but before she can get an answer, it vanishes. “Son of a bitch!”
“Amber.” Opal says. “Harry…”
Amber looks over at Harry, who she had completely forgotten about. Her necklace, eyes, and hands stop glowing. She looks down at the woman on the ground. She looked like a college student. Amber sighs, and raises her hands up, thus levitating the woman.
“Can you carry her? I’ll explain later.” Amber says.
Harry nods, and cautiously takes the woman in his arms, carrying her bridal style. Amber puts her hand on one of Harry’s shoulders, and blinks. Next thing Harry knows, they’re back on one of the streets in the neighborhood. Amber places her hand on the girl’s forehead, and takes a deep breath. Her eyes glow for a moment before she takes her hand away. She snaps her fingers, and the girl disappears from Harry’s arms.
“What the fu-“ Amber snaps her fingers again, and they’re in her apartment. “Fuck!” Harry pants, totally freaked out.
“Okay, calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down?! How do you expect me to calm down?!”
“If you don’t then she won’t be able to explain.” Opal says.
“Did she just talk?” Harry points to Opal.
“Yeah…she must be allowing you to hear her.” Amber shrugs.
“Right.” Harry’s eyes roll back, and he faints, dropping to the floor.
“And here I was thinking I’d have to force him to drink some tea to make him think this was all a dream.”
“Don’t you think he deserves an explanation? He literally had a dream where something similar happened! What if he’s some sort of mage too, but just doesn’t know it?”
“How could he not know it?”
“Not everyone’s born into it like you were. Maybe something drew him here, and maybe things activated when he drank the tea.”
“What do you want me to do, wake him up and explain everything to him? No way, I’m not diving in deep with a stranger.”
“But if you just-“
“Enough!” Amber’s eye glow warningly. “What I say goes.” She snaps her fingers, sending Harry down to his own bed. “He’ll just think he had another wild dream.”
“Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”
“Not if I give him something.” She grins. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Amber snaps herself down to Harry’s bedroom. She sprinkles some dried strawberry dust over his open mouth. “Sweet dreams.” She nearly cackles, and snaps herself back upstairs. “With the dream he’s about to have, he won’t be recalling a damn thing. It’s better if he doesn’t know.”
“We’ll see about that, stubborn girl.”
//
Harry wakes up Saturday in a cold sweat. He couldn’t remember how he ended up in bed, or taking his clothes off. He rips the blankets back and winces when the cold air hits his stiffy. He was used to being hard in the morning, but not like this. His prick was swollen and throbbing, begging to be taken care of.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He spits into his hand and grips himself.
He hisses from his own touch. He tries to remember last night. He recalls going for a walk, and then not much else. He jerks himself off until he comes. When he does, he swears a wank has never felt so good. He makes a proper mess of his tummy and heads for the shower. As he’s washing his hair, he notices he’s still hard, like, really hard. Not the post orgasm hard before he softens, it was like he hadn’t come at all. He sighs heavily, and starts pumping himself again. He grips at the tile on the walls as he whimpers and whines until he comes again.
When he gets out of the shower, and walks towards his dresser, he feels a throbbing between his legs. He looks down and sees that he’s hard again. Now he’s just annoyed. He had no idea what was going on. Unfortunately, he knew it wasn’t gonna go away on its own, so he jerks off a third time. He gets dressed, and goes upstairs to Amber’s apartment. He knocks on the door, but doesn’t hear anything.
“Amber, you home?!” He knocks again, but there’s nothing. She didn’t open until noon on Saturdays, where could she be?
He heads down the stairs, and peers into the shop, but doesn’t see anyone. He hears some noises coming from the basement door. He sighs and goes over to it. He knows he’s not supposed to go down there, but he needed answers. He knocks on the door loudly.
“Amber, you down there?!” He jiggles the door handle, and much to his surprise, it’s unlocked. “Amber?” Harry makes his way downstairs, and is stunned with what he sees. There were dozens of bookcases filled with old looking books, and bottles full of different liquids and leaves.
“Harry!” Amber shouts as she storms towards him. “You’re not supposed to be down here!”
“The door was unlocked.”
“Fucking.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have to talk with Penny. Go upstairs, now.”
“What is all of this stuff?”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
“Is this a weird meth lab or something? Are you a drug dealer? Is that what you’re really selling to the students?” He gasps for a moment. “Are you selling them ecstasy?”
“What?! You’re a fucking moron!”
“Then explain what’s going on because I woke up with a raging boner this morning, and it took a really long time for it to go away, and I also can’t remember a thing that happened last night, so I want some answers!”
“Wait, you woke up the boner?”
“How is that the thing you’re focusing on?”
“You were supposed to have a wet dream. Did you dream about anything?”
“No, one second I was on a walk and the next I woke up in my bed all sweaty and hard.”
“Weird.”
“You’re telling me. Now-“
“No, it’s weird because what I gave you had a delayed effect.” She walks over to one of the shelves and pulls out a book. She flips through one of the pages. “Ohhhh.” She nods, closes the book, and puts it back. “I sprinkled some strawberry dust in your mouth from my dried stash, it’s extremely potent, that’s why I make it into a tea. Um, when it’s used the way I used it…it’s supposed to make you have a wet dream. I think it delayed because you passed out last night.”
“I did?!”
“Yes.” She sighs, and snaps her fingers, bringing them to her apartment.
“Amber, I’m about two seconds away from-“
“Have a seat.” She points to her couch, and sits down. He sits down next to her, but not too close.
“Where’s Opal?”
“Out shopping with Penny. She upset with me because of last night. She wanted me to tell you everything, but I didn’t want to. I guess I don’t really have a choice now.”
“What do you mean she wanted you to tell me?” Harry blinks.
“May I press my forehead to yours? It’ll be easier to explain that way.”
“Um, sure?”
Amber grips the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. It was almost like she was about to kiss him, but she doesn’t. She presses her forehead to Harry’s, and her eyes start glowing. Harry suddenly has flashes of everything from the night before. She lets go of him, and gives him a moment to process everything.
“Holy shit.” He says, blinking a few times. “So my dream did mean something.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. You had some sort of vision, and I have no idea why.”
“What are you then?”
“I’m a mage.”
“Which is what?”
“Well, it’s sort of like a witch, but less spooky. I can cast spells, and I have other abilities. I was born into it. My hair color is naturally like this, that’s why you haven’t seen my roots grow out.”
“Your necklace was glowing last night too. Does that have anything to do with it?”
“I’ve had this since I was born. It helps enhance things.” She grips the jewel for a moment. “It also keeps me safe.”
“From who?”
“People who might want me for their own selfish needs. I’ve been trying to track this…this thing down. A demon of some kind attacked Opal last spring. I thought I was close to finding it last night, but that shadow was just a minion.”
“Do you know why something might have attacked her?”
“We’ve…wait a second, you’re taking all of this in a little too easily. You’re not freaked out?”
“Most of the fiction I read is fantasy based.” He shrugs. “Besides, it’s hard to doubt something when you see it with your own eyes. So, why do you think something attacked her?”
“We’ve been trying to figure it out for months! We were out in the woods at night collecting some leaves. I turned my back for a second and I heard her yelp out. It was terrible. Luckily, it left before it could do some real damage. I don’t want it hurting her, or any of the college students. Seems like it’s back.”
“Can I ask…why have a shop that’s so obviously full of magic?”
“A lot of people are into natural healing methods these days. And this is a pretty granola town.” She shrugs. “I’ve been here the last four years. Things took off quickly.”
“Where were you before?”
“I told, you I went to an agricultural boarding school. It was for kids like me. I…don’t really know my parents, and I don’t have any siblings. They kind of just send you off once you’re of age to go to pre-school.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It wasn’t.” She shakes her head. “Well, it was and it wasn’t. I learned how to keep myself safe, and learn how to properly use my powers. They let you leave when you’re twenty. I had all my firsts there. My first kiss, my first love, my first heartbreak.” She sighs.
“Is Penny a mage too?”
“Sort of.” Amber smiles. “She’s more a mother to me than my own. She practically raised me. When I left the school I asked her to come with me, and she agreed.”
“When did you get Opal?”
“When you’re little, around the age of six, they take you to a farm so you can connect with an animal. She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. I bonded with her right away. We ran around and played and laughed. Opal’s my everything.”
“And she can talk with you and others telepathically?”
“Correct. She has to feel bonded to the people she allows to hear her. She’s felt comfortable with you since you got here…I’ve also been trying to figure that out. It pisses me off to no end that she likes you.”
“Why?” He chuckles.
“Because I can’t stand you. You’re so fucking positive and bouncy. You’re always in a good mood, it’s disgusting.” She grimaces.
“Well, I know being a mage can’t mean you’re crabby because Penny’s always delighted to see me.” He smirks. “It disgusts you that I’m happy?”
“Very much so, yes.” She nods.
“I can’t help it. I’ve got a great job, I’m studying something I’m interested in, and I get to see you every day. What could be better than that?”
“You’re happy because you get to see me every day?”
“Well, sure. You’re so interesting, and…I’m very attracted to you, but I’m sure that’s been obvious to you since I walked through the door.” He rubs the back of his neck as he blushes.
“I’m flattered, but I’m not really one for dating. I don’t have the time for it. Not when there’s a fucking demon on the loose that I can’t seem to track down.”
“Maybe I could help. Two heads are better than one.” He smiles.
“No, the only thing you can help with is keeping all of this to yourself. You can’t say a thing to anyone.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
She nods and takes her necklace off. Harry watches as she moves her fingers above the stone, and crates an amber ring from it.
“Here, you like to wear rings, so put this on.” She grabs one of his hands and slides the ring onto his pinky. “This will keep you safe. It’ll keep us connected.”
“Thank you for trusting me with all of this. Um, so about this morning…did you think I was going to be distracted by a saucy dream?” He smirks.
“It was supposed to make you forget everything entirely. I’m sorry it didn’t work right, that must have been painful. How many times did you, uh, you know, before it stopped?”
“Three.”
“Poor thing.” She pouts. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m still a little tired, yeah.” He chuckles.
“Why don’t you go to take a nap? Penny and Opal should be back soon, and I need to catch them up on everything.”
“This isn’t some trick, right? You’re not going to try to cast a spell to make me forget?”
“No.” She chuckles. “I don’t see much use in it. Your body was clearly trying to fight off what I gave you.”
“Does, um, does it always last like that?”
“Oh, you mean staying hard after you come?”
“Yeah.” He blushes.
“Not if you fuck someone. If you’re alone and have to take care of it yourself it takes longer for it to wear off since you’re not exerting as much energy.” They both stand up and she walks him to her door. “Should have come knocking sooner, I could have helped you out.” She winks at him.
“That’s not funny.” He deadpans.
She laughs anyways, and sends him out. She snaps herself back to the basement where Opal and Penny are already waiting for her.
“Before so a word, I told him what he needed to know.” Amber tells them.
“The powder didn’t work?” Penny asks.
“No, apparently it didn’t kick in until just before he woke up. Poor thing had to jerk it three times.” Amber shrugs.
“See! This is why I think something is dormant within him. First, your tea causes him to have a vision. Second, the powder didn’t work. What did he say when you told him what was going on?” Opal says.
“He took it really well. The questions he asked were more for his understanding, to piece things together. He wasn’t freaked out at all.”
“Then that’s a third thing. We need to figure out what he is.”
“I know, but how? It’s not like I can experiment on him.” Amber sighs.
“I’ve heard of this before.” Penny says, padding over to one of the book shelves. She makes a motion with her hands to get one of the books on the top shelf down. She brings the book over to the lectern so she and Amber could look at it together. Penny flips through the pages, and finds what she’s looking for. “Ah-ha! Here it is. Long ago, there were families that left the coven, wanting to leave the magic behind. It was when a lot of those awful witch hunts became popular. After a few generations, the families became unaware of their abilities, thus the magic lying dormant within. Apparently, all it takes to ignite the magic is meeting another witch, and drinking something magical they made for them. You’ve been making him tea and coffee for almost two months! Then you gave him that tea sleepy-time tea that’s laced with magic. No wonder he had a vision.” Penny shakes her head.
“I wonder if deep down he felt a pull here…to Amber.”
“Could be.” Penny ponders. “I’ve seen that happening too. Certain covens did have truces back in the day. You two could have been from two separate covens, but bonded nonetheless.”
“If you’re getting into some weird soulmate shit, I’m gonna have to head out.” Amber says.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Penny shakes her head. “When’s his birthday?”
“Um, February, I think.” Amber says.
“Then is birthstone would be an amethyst.” Opal says.
“If you look at any color wheel you’ll see that purple and yellow are polar opposites.” Penny says.
“But they’re also complimentary colors.”
“Can one of you just get to the point?!” Amber huffs.
“You’re not soulmates, but you are connected. In our various covens, those with citrine birthstones, like yours, and those with amethyst birthstones tended to make great pairs. They’re good at problem solving together.”
“I made him a ring from my stone…should I add an amethyst to it?”
“No.” Opal says. “No, he’ll need that ring to stay as it is for safety. We need to get him his own necklace with the stone. Then we can see if it glows.”
“If it glows…he’s a mage.” Penny states.
“Great, where the fuck am I supposed to get a pure amethyst on such short notice?” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose. “Not to mention getting it welded into a necklace.”
“You’ll have to take him out to the Four Peaks Mine in Arizona. I can run the shop while you’re gone. You’ll take Opal with you, simple as that.”
“It’s not simple. He has classes to teach, and there’s a demon on the loose!”
“Yes, but you might be able to ward it off together. It’s Saturday, we could get there quick, and be back by tomorrow night. Plenty of time.” Opal says.
“That’s a long way to snap us there. We’ll need to sleep there tonight so I get gain my strength back.” Amber says.
“Then so be it.” Penny says. “I can handle things here. We’re only open a half day tomorrow as is. Where is he now?”
“Napping.” Amber sighs. “I’ll go wake him up. Opal, be ready in five?”
Opal nods, and Amber snaps herself into Harry’s apartment. She walks into his bedroom where he’s sleeping soundly. Poor thing was knackered. She sits on the edge of his bed, and gently pulls him out of sleep. His eyes flutter open slowly.
“Amber?”
“Hi.” She smiles softly. “We have to go to Arizona for the night to get you an amethyst stone.”
“Um, okay…why?” He sits up a bit.
“It’s your birthstone, just as this is mine.” She points to her necklace. “We need to test something, and we need the pure substance to do so. We may be connected somehow, yellow and purple are complimentary colors.”
“Can I ask you something? If the birth stone is so important, why don’t you glow yellow instead of blue?”
“Blue and yellow are also complimentary colors, just as green and purple are. I was born in November, so it was already obvious what my stone would be, but when my parents saw my eyes for the first time…they knew I’d be powerful. Not all citrines are born with such blue eyes, only the most powerful. Your eyes are very green, so you may be quite powerful yourself, but we won’t know anything until we get to the mine. Pack an overnight bag, and be downstairs in five minutes.”
Without another word, she snaps herself out of his room, leaving him speechless.
“I’m really starting to hate it when she does that.” He says to himself before getting out of bed.
//
It was dusk by the time Amber was able to snap herself, Harry, and Opal to Arizona. Their first task was to find a motel to stay at for the night before heading to the mine. The biggest challenge was finding one that was pet friendly.
“The mines will be too dangerous for you two. I’ll go and bring back what we need by morning.”
“I can’t let you go alone.”
“Amber, you’ll know if something’s wrong. I’ll check in with you. Just get a room and rest up.”
Opal sprinted off into the night while Amber and Harry went to the check in area of the closest motel. They go inside to see what the vacancy situation is. An older gentleman was behind the desk.
“Good evening, folks.” He smiles warmly.
“Hi, we’d like a room with two queens please.” Amber says.
“Let me just double check if we have that available.” The man goes onto the computer on his desk. “Unfortunately, our last available room with two queens has already been reserved by a family of four coming in. I do, however, one room with a full left. Would that work?”
“A full is so tiny.” Amber frowns. “Is there at least a couch in the room?”
“A small loveseat.”
“Ugh, alright, we’ll take it.” She sighs, and gives him her credit card. Harry can’t hide the smirk on his face as the man types away at his computer. Amber glares at him briefly before taking her card back, and getting the room key.
“Enjoy your stay.” The man smiles at both of them.
“Can’t you just cast some sort of spell to make the bed bigger?” Harry asks once they’re in the room.
“No, that’s not how that works. I can’t change the molecular composition of a mattress like that. I’m also too weak to perform that kind of magic even if I wanted to. Snapping us across the country took a lot out of me, and I need to rest so I can get us home tomorrow.” She closes and locks the door behind them.
“What exactly will finding this amethyst do?”
“Well, I’ll turn it into a necklace, put it on you, and we’ll see if it glows.”
“And if it does?”
“Then you’re a mage, and we’ll have some bigger fish to fry.” She sits down on the edge of the bed and takes her boots off. “I’m gonna go wash up, and then I’m turning in. I brought some tea so we can get to sleep.” She makes her way into the bathroom. Harry goes in after her. When he’s done, she hands him a cup of tea.
“Thanks…do you think I’ll have a weird vision again?”
“You could.” Amber shrugs. “I have no idea.” She goes through her bag and pulls out a night shirt and pajama bottoms. “Turn around.”
Harry does so quickly while she changes. He grabs his own pajama pants to throw on, and stays in his tee shirt. Once they’re done with their tea, they both climb into bed. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but there was little wiggle room, and Harry was a broad, tall guy. They were shoulder to shoulder, squished in the small bed.
“Could be worse, could have been a room with just a twin.” Harry says to break the tension.
“Why in the fuck would there be a motel room with just a twin bed in it?”
“I don’t know, I was just saying.” He shrugs, and turns his head to look at her. “Clearly, there are stranger things out there than that.” He smirks.
“Go to sleep, Harry.” She rolls away from him onto her side.
“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. You’ve never shared a bed with someone before?”
Amber sighs heavily and rolls back onto her back to look at him better.
“I have, but these are tight quarters if you haven’t noticed, and you told me you were attracted to me-“
“So? You think I’m going to disrespect you and take advantage of the situation? I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I didn’t say you were. I just feel…nervous. It’s been a while since I shared a bed with a man, that’s all. You’re pretty, um, attractive yourself, so…there’s that.” Her face had to be beat red right now, she could feel it.
“Well, look who’s expressing their feelings!” Harry gasps. “Who knew this side to you even existed?”
“Don’t be sarcastic with me, Harry. You don’t know what it was like growing up the way I did. It was really hard at times. We were basically like grounded nomads.”
“M’sorry.” He turns on his side to face her easier. “Would you, uh, would you want to have a cuddle while we drift off? Doesn’t have to mean anything, but I know you’re worried about Opal, could help you calm down some.”
Amber nods and turns back over so Harry can spoon her. He doesn’t fully press his pelvis to her bum, he didn’t want to push it and make her uncomfortable. She did feel better having his arm wrapped around her. They both drift off easily after settling, the tea kicking in.
In his dream, Harry’s brought to a large estate, like a mansion from 1800’s London. There was a large field as well, a gentle breeze flowing. It looked like it was a beautiful day. He goes walking for a bit and finds this gorgeous tree that had a few tire swings attached to it. He stops short when he sees Amber. She looked a little younger, her hair was much longer, tied back in a flowing braid, and she was wearing a black, off the shoulder maxi dress with buttons running down the front. She had her arms crossed over chest, and she didn’t look happy with the young man she was speaking with. Harry creeps a little closer to hear what they’re talking about.
“Is what Opal told me true, yes or no?” Amber says to him.
“Amber-“
“Yes, or no, Max.” She scowls at him.
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“That you’ve been practicing dark magic in the woods at night.”
“She’s never liked me.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe you’re going to believe that mat over me.”
“Be very careful with how you speak about her.” Amber’s eyes start glowing.
“Settle down.”
“Answer the question.”
“Yes, okay, yes…I’ve been practicing dark magic.”
“Why?! You know it’s against the rules.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be. It does more good than harm, everyone is just too scared because it’s powerful.”
“You’re going to get expelled if one of the elders catches you. Do you want to be thrown out into the world before you’re ready?”
“We’re eighteen, Amber, we can do whatever we want. We could leave here together, and never come back. This place is a prison.”
“This place keeps us safe. You know as well as I do we can’t leave until we’re at least twenty.”
“Since when do you follow every single rule, huh? Where’s the girl that sneaks off into my room at night?” He steps closer to her, caressing one of her cheeks.
“That’s totally different.” She swats his hand away. “You shouldn’t be messing with that shit. If Opal saw you, others could too.”
“So I’ll be more careful.”
“Or you could stop. If you don’t…if you don’t then it’s over between us.”
Max’s dark brown eyes start to glow, along with the jewel hanging from the chain around his neck. It looked like aquamarine. Brown and blue were opposites as well. Maybe those gems had a connection too? He couldn’t be sure, a lot of this was confusing. Amber’s eyes were glowing again to match Max’s energy. Both sets of their hands started glowing as well.
“You’d throw away everything between us over something so small?!” He yells at her.
“This isn’t small, this is serious! Don’t make me strike you, Max.” There were tears streaming down her cheeks.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
With a flick of her wrist, she blasts him, knocking him down to the ground. She hovers over him, ready to serve another blow.
“I’m so disappointed in you.” She says to him.
“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He grits his teeth.
“Actually, pretty sure I just finished it. Goodbye, Max.”
Harry blinks, and all of a sudden he’s in a forest at night. He could hear growling. He runs in the direction of the noise and sees Opal growling towards a man. It was Max. Harry’s eyes widen as he watches Max chant something, striking a blow towards Opal. Harry tries to save her, but he’s frozen in his place.
“Opal?!” He hears Amber yell, and Max disappears. “Opal! Oh my god!” She drops to the ground, her body going over Opal’s and snapping them away from the scene.
Harry’s eyes burst open, and he sits up right away. Amber’s not in the bed anymore. Before he has a heart attack, he hears her coming out of the bathroom.
“Morning.” She yawns. “Opal’s about five minutes away. How’d you sleep?”
“Amber, uh, when Opal got attacked, did she ever say what it was, or who it was that attacked her?”
“No.” Amber shakes her head. “She couldn’t remember a thing. I think whatever it was put a hex on her memory of the event. Why?”
“I had a really unsettling dream.” He blinks a few times and looks at her. Before he can say anything else, Opal appears in the room, letting a large amethyst fall from her mouth.
“You wouldn’t believe the digging I had to do to get this, but it’s a good one.” She says. “You both slept in that tiny bed?”
“Not the time. Go drink some water.” Amber snatches the amethyst. It hovers above her palm. Her eyes glow, and in seconds it’s transformed into a slide on a necklace. “Let’s do this first, and then we can talk about your dream, okay?” She says to Harry as she comes over to him. Opal hops up on the bed, and Amber sits beside Harry. “Close your eyes.” She says softly, and he does so. She places the necklace over his head, and the gem rests on his chest.
The amethyst starts to hover and glow. Amber and Opal look at each other.
“Is anything happening?” Harry asks.
“Open your eyes.” Amber says.
Harry opens his eyes, and they’re glowing a bright green. He gasps when his looks down at the floating amethyst. He looks down at his hands and sees that they’re glowing too.
“How do I turn it off?!” Harry yelps in fear.
“Don’t panic! Give it a moment, the gem is bonding with you, just breathe.” Amber says.
A few moments pass before the gem rests on Harry’s chest once more. He eyes and hands stop glowing as well, and he takes a deep breath.
“What does all of this mean?” He asks them.
“You’re a mage, your abilities have been dormant for quite some time. You’re definitely more powerful than most, you’ll have to learn how to hone in on it.” Opal explains.
“I guess that would explain the vision-type dreams. I…Amber, I saw your break up with someone named Max. You got into a fight because he was performing dark magic. Then I was in the woods where Opal was attacked. It was him who attacked her, not some random demon.”
“What?!” Amber’s eyes flash for a moment. “I’ll kill him, I’ll-“
“No, Amber, that’s the exact rage he wants you to feel.” Opal says. “But we do need to track him down before he does more damage around town. Those college kids don’t deserve his wrath.”
//
When they all got back Sunday evening, Amber explained everything to Penny. She was beyond infuriated, and reached out to the other elders back at the boarding school to let them know what was going on. Harry was taking in a lot of information in, but he was doing well at not freaking out. Penny took him aside to calmly explain to him was his powers meant, and that there was a code of ethics he’d need to read up on and follow. Now that Amber knew Max was involved, she needed to figure out a way to track him down, and fast.
//
The weeks go on, no shadows lurking, no demons, and no Max. Amber, Penny, and Opal take advantage of the quiet to train Harry in their spare time. Lucky for them, he was a fast reader, and a quick learner. He was picking up certain spells naturally. He knew it would take a while to get as good as Amber at all of this, but he was happy with the progress he was making. He had never felt more like himself in his life. Penny had them working on combination spells, and boy were they powerful. The blue and green glows mixed beautifully.
“I have a feeling he may strike on Halloween.” Opal says to them one evening.
“Wouldn’t that be sort of cliché?” Harry asks.
“Please, Max lives for shit like that. He probably thinks it’ll be the perfect cover since we usually go out on Halloween.” Amber says.
“What do you do?”
“Penny stays back to hand out candy to the little kids, and Opal and I usually go around making sure there aren’t any creatures looking for trouble.”
“If Opal thinks he may strike on Halloween, then I think I know where we could wait for him. If I draw out where I had that original vision, do you think you’d know where in the woods it is?”
“It’s worth a try.” Opal says.
Opal knew exactly where Harry was talking about after looking over the picture he drew. Halloween was only a few days away, they needed to prepare. Harry was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on his door. He looks through the peephole to see Amber, and he smiles.
“Hi, there.” He says as he opens the door.
“Hi, may I come in?”
“Of course.” She nods and comes inside. She had on an oversized shirt and pajama pants. Harry smirks to himself as he closes the door. “So, what’s up?”
“Nothing, I just…well, I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you.”
“For what?”
“Taking all of this so well, for jumping in without a second thought. You’re doing really well with the lessons, and I know it’s got to be stressful because you’re trying to balance this whole mess along with getting your master’s and teaching.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I know Penny is really good at giving praise, but I’m not always so good at it…that’s what the kids at the boarding school used to tell me when I’d work with them anyways, so I just wanted to make sure I told you how proud I am. I really couldn’t stand you when we first met, but I like you a lot more now.”
He knew the last part was a joke, so he laughs before responding.
“Thanks, that means a lot. When I’m passionate about something, I tend to just dive right in, and I usually aim to please.” He steps a little closer to her. “Is that all you came down here for? To praise me?”
She narrows her eyes at him while her cheeks turn a bright red. He was making her nervous, and she hated feeling that way.
“What else would I have come down here for?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know, you tell me. Typically, when a girl comes knocking at my door after midnight, she’s looking for something very particular.”
Amber scoffs and shakes her head. She crosses her arms as she smirks at him.
“Mm, I bet you’d love it if I came down here to seduce you. You strike me as the type that likes to hear a woman beg for your cock. Am I right about that, Harry? You’re so nice and sweet all day long, do you like to get a little mean in the bedroom?” She raises her eye brows playfully. “No, maybe you like it when your woman gets a little mean, or maybe it’s a mix of both.”
“You know what I think?”
“Tell me.”
“I think that whoever you’ve slept with in the past never pleased you in the way that you need to be pleased.”
“And how do I need to be pleased?”
“Probably with a lot of tongue, I’m guessing.” He watches as Amber’s pupils dilate just the smallest amount. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To feel all warm and wet between your thighs.”
“I’ve got a toy that does that for me. Perfectly mimics the feeling of someone sucking on my clit.”
“Can’t beat the real thing.”
“Sure it can.” She shrugs. “It gets me panting, mining, screaming. And it gets me absolutely soaked. Probably squirted for all I know.” She pushes past him to walk towards his door. “Sleep well, Harry.”
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that right above me you’re soaking your own sheets?” He pouts at her.
“Drink some tea, you’ll sleep just fine.” She winks, and out the door she goes.
Harry groans to himself, and heads to the kitchen to make himself some tea. There’s no way he’d sleep on his own tonight.
//
“I should be going with you two.”
“No, you’ll stay here with Penny where it’s safe. Dark magic can’t infiltrate the shop. You’re his target, so we’ll have a fake you set up.” Amber says. Both her and Harry were dressed in all black. She takes his hand in hers, and she snaps them out to the forest. “We’ll have to travel the rest of the way on foot.” She tells Harry.
“When we get there, and we catch him…what exactly are you going to do.”
“I’m going to take his powers away. I should have done it a long time ago.”
“You know how to do that?”
“Yes, Penny taught me how. It’s only for extreme circumstances, but I know how to sort of, like, bend the energy from him. His stone will go black, and that’ll be it.”
“So…all of this is because he thinks you broke up with him because of something Opal saw him do?”
“It’s more than that.” Amber sighs. “He was always jealous…I put Opal first a lot. He didn’t have the same relationship with his animal guide, and eventually he parted from it. That can break something within you. It’s probably why he turned to the dark magic in the first place. I tried to be there for him, but we started fighting a lot more, and when Opal told me what she saw, that was the last straw for me.”
“How long were you together for?”
“Well, I’d known him my whole life, but we got together when we were sixteen, so two years. He was my first everything. I’ve had other relationships, but it’s tough dating a non-mage. Everything has to be a secret; it’s exhausting.”
“Hearing you say that helps me make sense of my own dating life. I never felt fully connected to any of my girlfriends, even when we were having sex. I felt like I was trying to force the passion or something.”
“God, you’re such a romantic.” She says in a disgusted tone. “It’s all that damn fiction you read.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want to have passionate sex?”
“No, but sometimes sex is just sex. You get your rocks off, zip back up, and get on with your day.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Have you ever fucked someone you hated?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone to be honest with you. I’ve not liked people before.”
“Okay, have you ever fucked someone you didn’t like?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You can be attracted to someone and hate their guts. It’s hot and lustful.” She smirks.
“Too bad we didn’t fuck when you hated me then. Could have been pretty steamy.”
“You’re an idiot.” She laughs. “Wait, I think we’re here. Get into positron.”
The two of them huddle behind a large tree. Amber’s eyes glow, and with a few twists of her fingers, a fake Opal is created. Amber acts as if the dog is a puppet, making her sniff around and dig. Harry quietly watches in amazement. Before long, a shadow appears, then a few more. Max appears with the shadows, his eyes glowing a reddish brown.
“You must think I’m a real idiot.” Max chuckles lowly, snapping his fingers and making the fake Opal vanish. “Come on out Amber.” Amber and Harry stand up, coming out from behind the tree. “Oh, look! You’ve brought a friend. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between your mutt and an illusion?” He smirks.
“No, we knew you’d figure it out.” Amber says. “You’re such a sick fuck trying to hurt her when really it’s me you’re mad at. I broke your heart, and you blame her, but you did it to yourself. You knew I wouldn’t tolerate all of this.”
“You broke just about every rule you could at that boarding school!”
“Yeah, like sneaking into your room after hours, and breaking curfew, not messing with dark magic! It’s possessed you, your eyes aren’t supposed to glow red. I’ve grown fond of this town, and I won’t have you terrorizing defenseless kids because of me. This ends now.”
“Well, you’re about that, but I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with the outcome. See, I’m going to find Opal, and I’m going to make sure she learns that eavesdropping isn’t okay. I know she’s gotten older, but even old dogs can learn new tricks.”
Max’s hands and eyes start glowing, and he charges towards Amber.
“Harry, handle the shadows, I’ll take care of Max!” She yells just as she jumps into the air to avoid Max’s blow.
While Amber and Max cast spells at each other, Harry springs into action. He couldn’t fly or float, or whatever the fuck Amber’s able to do just yet, but he had gotten pretty good at casting key defense and offense spells. Max’s shadows were strong, getting the better of Harry a few times, but Harry’s eyes start glowing along with his gem, and then all bets are off for the shadows. He’s impressed with himself when he’s able to make them vanish. He looks over and sees Amber and Max rushing towards each other with an immense amount of rage. The blow they strike at the same time explodes, causing them both to be flung backwards. Amber’s back slams into a tree, making her fall to the ground.
“Amber!” Harry sprints over to her, cradling her face in his hands. “Come on, Love, wakeup.” He’s panicking now.
“I should have known.” Max says as he scrambles to his feet. Harry looks over at him. “An amethyst and a citrine, how cliché.” He scoffs. “You’re new to all of this, I can feel it. Why she’d spend her time with a mongrel like you is beyond me.” His hands start glowing again as he walks over to Harry. “Not to worry, once you and Opal are out of the picture, she’ll be all mine once more.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.”
Harry lunges forward, tackling Max by the legs. He pins him down, and punches Max in the face. Max telepathically throws Harry off him. Harry casts spell after spell towards Max, but they’re all blocked.
“You’re weak, what could she possibly want with you?” Max laughs as he blocks another strike.
Amber’s eyes flutter open, and she sees the two men fighting. She rises off the ground, and gets high enough to have an arial view of them. She watches as Max throws Harry into a tree. That was the last straw. She takes a deep breath, and nose dives towards Max. He doesn’t see it coming as he’s forced into the ground. She pins him down and snatches the gem around his neck, and breaks the chain.
“What are you doing?!” He shouts.
“Something I should have done a long time ago. You’re too dangerous.” Amber shoots back up into the air, and Max follows her.
“Give it back!”
“No!”
She wraps the chain around her fist, and points her other arm out at him. The blue glow leaves her palm and goes right to Max’s heart. First, a red glow starts to leave his body, and soon it turns into Max’s original brown glow. They both start lowering to the ground. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and she has tears streaming down her cheeks. There’s a large flash of light, and then nothing.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He says weakly on his knees looking up at her.
“I know exactly what I’ve done.” She throws Max’s gem on the ground and steps on it, breaking it into tiny pieces. “I can’t believe I thought this would actually be a challenge.” She pushes him all the way down to the ground with her boot, and steps on his chest. “Only the weak turn to dark magic.”
“What am I supposed to do without my powers?” He asks weakly.
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your friends?” The shadows come to surround Max. Amber steps back from him and watches as they circle around him. They look to her. “Unless you want to end up just like that, I strongly suggest you take him far away from here.” They all vanish. Amber had a feeling this fight was long from over, but for now Max wouldn’t be able to do any more damage. She rushes over to Harry who was still laying on the ground. “Harry!” She cradles his head into her lap and places her hand on his forehead.
“Amber?”
“Hey.” She smiles down at him.
“Did we win?”
“We did.” She nods. “You were so brave trying to battle him. I took his powers away, we should be safe for a while.”
“I bet Opal will be relieved.”
“Yeah, she will be. Let’s get back to the shop, yeah?”
Harry hums his response just as Amber snaps them to the shop. Penny and Opal were cleaning up from the trick or treating.
“You’re back!” Opal exclaims, running over to the two of them. Amber drops to her knees to hug her friend.
“I took his powers away. We could easily see him again, but not for a long time.” Amber says.
“I’m so proud of you.” Opal nuzzles her forehead to Amber’s. “I’m proud of you too, Harry.”
“I’m glad you’ll be safe now.” Harry scratches at Opal’s head.
“You two look knackered.” Penny says. “Here, I made some tea for you both, go upstairs and unwind for a bit. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
“Good idea, thank you. Where’s the tea?” Amber asks.
“I snapped it up to Harry’s apartment.” Penny smiles. “Go on, Opal and I can finish locking up.”
//
Harry and Amber make their way into his apartment. They see the tea on his coffee table, and sit down on his sofa. They’re quiet for a moment as they take a sip. It had the faintest hint of a coffee smell, which was peculiar. It should either taste like chamomile or vanilla. Amber was too tired to question it.
“I’m going to head up.” She says after finishing her tea. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Alright.” He smiles at her. “We can keep training together, right? I’d like to keep learning.”
“Of course.” She smiles. “You still have a lot to learn. Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, sleep well.” He walks her to the door and watches as she heads upstairs.
Amber takes a quick shower, and changes into a tee shirt and bed shorts. Opal was already asleep on the daybed in the living room. Amber crawls into bed and sighs with relief. She tosses and turns for a bit. She felt wide awake now, like she had just been given a burst of energy. She huffs and puffs, getting more and more uncomfortable. She feels hot all over, and kicks her blankets back. Her thighs felt sweaty, so she dips her fingers inside her shorts and gasps. She was wet, incredibly wet. She sits up and remembers the tea.
“Fucking, Penny.” She groans. Coffee had a way of masking other smells. Amber gets out of bed, getting more and more frustrated with each step. Opal pops an eye open.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Why’d you let Penny give me the mood tea?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seems like your problem will go away faster if you see Harry, though.”
“You’ll face my wrath in the morning.”
“Mhm, go have some fun.”
Amber makes her way down the stairs to Harry’s apartment. She bangs on his door, preying he wasn’t asleep already. After a few moments, he opens the door only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He was holding a pillow over his crotch. Amber places her hands on either side of the doorframe.
“We have a problem.” She huffs. “Penny slipped us the wrong tea.”
“Was wondering why I got so hard once I got into bed.” He looks her up and down. “Why’d you come all the way down here?”
“Because if we don’t take care of it properly then we’ll be up all night, and I don’t feel like masturbating for hours on end until it stops.”
“Here I was thinking I’d have to wank off to just the thought of you.” He steps closer to her, dropping the pillow to the floor. Her eyes flicker down to his strained prick.
“I wanted us to go out on a proper date before we did anything like this.” Amber mutters. “Penny’s so pushy whenever she wants me to be with someone.”
“Do you ever listen to her?”
“No.”
“Seems like she took the necessary steps.” He hooks an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. “I’ll take you out to breakfast tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”
“I’ve always wanted to go on a breakfast date.”
“You wanna do this? I can kiss you, touch you?” His lips ghost over hers.
“Please, take care of me. M’dripping.”
“For me?”
“For you.” She confirms. “This stuff is potent, but it works better when you have someone in mind that you really want to fuck.”
Harry groans and slots his mouth over hers. He brings her further into the apartment, and kicks the door closed. His hands cup her cheeks as they bump into various walls. She bites down on his bottom lip and he moans into her. He licks into her mouth and starts sucking on her tongue. She tugs on his hair and jumps up so he can carry her into his room. Her legs wrap securely around his waist, moaning into his mouth as he sucks on her bottom lip. He drops her onto his bed, a whine escaping her from the loss of his body. He smirks as he moves to hover over her, attaching his lips to her neck. He sponges wet kisses along her skin, and nibbles on her earlobe.
“What do you like, Amber?” He says into her ear, and her hips buck up into his.
“Anything right now would be good, I’m soaked.” She whimpers, and he moves to look at her.
“Because of the tea, or because you really want me, because I can’t fuck you if it’s just from the tea.”
“It’s a mix of both. The tea can bring out things you’re already feeling for someone else. I want you, I mean it, I’m not just saying it so you’ll fuck me. I…I like you, alright? I really do like you. I think about you when you’re not around, and the best part of my day is when you come into the shop after you’ve finished working for the day. You set up your stupid laptop and work on your stupid assignments, all while looking unapologetically handsome.”
“Why would you keep all of that to yourself for so long, hm?” He coos, brushing some hair away from her face.
“Because romance makes me sick, and so does being vulnerable.” She pouts at him.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at both.” He presses his lips to her once more before shifting down her body. He tugs on her shorts, and she lifts her hips to help him take them off. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which made things much easier. His eyes widen when he sees how slick she is between her legs. “Christ, you weren’t kidding.”
“It hurts, please, just do something.” She whines again.
Harry smirks before licking over one of her inner thighs, and then the other. He licks over her slit, and she moans out in relief. He licks up to her clit and sucks harshly on it. He moans into her and presses down on her lower stomach. He slides two fingers inside her, and her head rolls back into his pillows. Harry thought she tasted amazing, and she was so wet and warm around his fingers. He was leaking into his boxers, he could feel it. He knew part of it was from the tea, but he also knew how he felt about her. He had been dreaming of this moment since the day he met her, and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening. The tips of his fingers pet against her g-spot, and her hands fly to his hair to grip onto. He continues to suck on her clit, trying not to bust in his boxers too soon. She cries out as she comes around his fingers. She gets her shirt off while he rids himself of his boxers. He comes back down to hover over her. He licks into her mouth as her arms wrap around her his neck. He ruts his hard cock against her folds.
“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asks her as he starts to knead her breasts.
“N-no.” She shakes her head. “Are you okay with that? I…I’m clean.”
“So am I. Are you on the pill, or something?”
“I have an IUD, so you can come inside me if you want.”
“Is that what you want?”
“We’re going to be able to go for multiple rounds, and I want you to fill me up each time.”
“Fuck.” He groans, and spreads her legs farther apart.
He rubs his tip along her clit before pushing inside. Her nails dig into his shoulders, her mouth falling open from the stretch he was giving her. Her heels dig into the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to her. Her hands trail down his back until they reach his bum, sinking her nails into the plushy skin.
“You feel so fucking good.” She gasps as he thrusts in and out of her.
“So do you.” He groans. “You’re so fucking tight, don’t know how long I’ll last.”
“It doesn’t matter, you’ll get hard again.”
“Thought you said since we were taking care of it properly it won’t last quite as long?”
“It won’t last as long, but it’ll still last for bit.” She pulls his face down to hers to kiss him. “Let me get on top, yeah?”
He nods, and rolls them both over. She readjusts, and starts bouncing up and down on him. She throws her head back and scratches down his stomach. His hands find her hips, thrusting up into her to match her pace. He watches as her tits bounce up and down. He sits up a bit so he can suck on one of her nipples. Her clit rubs against him perfectly, and she’s coming again in no time. With another thrust, he come inside her, biting down on her shoulder in the process.
“You’re amazing.” He mutters into her neck. “I can feel how hard I still I am.” He groans as he looks up at her. “It’s like I’ve got a cock ring on or something.”
“I know, don’t worry, we’ll make it go away together.” She smiles and lifts herself off of him. “Um…there’s something I’m sort of into, and I was wondering if you might be too?”
“Well, what is it?”
“Could I…would you be comfortable if, I, uh, got behind you and lick you? Maybe use my fingers? I can conjure up some lube.”
Harry’s eyes visibly dilate, making Amber smirk.
“You have no idea how okay with that I am.”
“Yeah? Have you done it before?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to. I think I actually have some lube here. Let me just double check my side table.” Harry eagerly leans over and reaches into his side table drawer. He finds a bottle of lube and tosses it to her. He gets onto his stomach for her, and she giggles as he wiggles his bum at her.
“M’gonna make you feel so good.” She says lowly, giving his bum a little smack before leaning down to spread him apart.
She licks a strip around his hole, swirling around his him. He grips the blankets on the bed, moaning and whimpering into his pillow as she suckled and slurped around his hole. She sits up for a moment to get some lube on her fingers. She starts with her middle finger, rubbing it around his rim, and then slowly slipping it inside him.
“Fuck.” He groans.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, feels good, don’t stop.”
Amber bites her bottom lip as she slips another finger inside him. She pumps them carefully, she didn’t want him to be in any sort of pain, this was supposed to be pleasurable. Her fingers get deep enough to reach a particular part inside of him. She reaches a hand around front to grip his throbbing cock.
“Doing so well, Harry.”
“Think you found my prostate, shit, feels so fucking good.” He grits his teeth as her thumb rubs over his tip. “M’gonnna come again, fuck!”
Amber presses his prick as close to his stomach as possible to make less of a mess as he comes. She slowly retracts her fingers from him, and lets him roll onto his back. He was sweaty and panting. She licks the palm of her hand that was full of his come, and then leans down to lick his stomach clean. His prick hardens back up instantly.
“Harry, I’m so wet, I almost came watching you enjoy yourself.” She says after licking her lips. “And your come tastes so good.” She pouts.
“I eat a lot of fruit.” He breathes. “Lay on your side for me.” He pats the spot next to him, and she does what he says. They get into a spooning position. She raises her leg a bit, and he slips inside.
“Oh, wow, you’re in so deep.” She arches into him. He grips her hip and starts moving in and out of her.
“Yeah? Like feeling me like this?”
“Yes.” She gasps when his fingers slip to her clit.
“You like it dirty, huh? You don’t like have vanilla sex.” He says into her ear, nipping at her lobe.
She moans out, unable to form an actual response. Once he gains a little more energy, he has her turn onto her stomach so he can fuck her properly from behind. He sits up on his knees, and starts pounding into her relentlessly.
“Oh my god!” She gasps. “Keep going, just like that!”
He grips the back of her neck with hand, and reaches around front to rub her clit with the other. He strokes are fast and deep, beating up her g-spot. She was chanting his name, and it was just egging him on more. He needed her to come again, and he needed her to come hard. As good as she felt, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do it again after this.
“Want you to soak my sheets.” He growls. “Come all over my cock, Amber.”
“M’close, m’close!” She cries out.
Everything feels overwhelming all at once, and she finally lets go. He comes inside her at the same time, and does soak his sheets. His cock is absolutely drenched. He collapses next to her on the bed. He sighs with relief when he feels his cock actually start to soften.
“I have a spare set in the linen closet.” He says to her, and she giggles.
“Don’t bother, that was just the first session.”
“Um…what?”
“That was just the first session. You’ll probably come two more times.”
“But, that other time I only came three times.”
“Yeah, and it hurt, right? Did these last few hurt?”
“Not at all. Felt amazing.”
“We could 69 for the next one. You’re really good at going down.” She bites her bottom lip.
“Wouldn’t mind feeling your mouth around my cock either.”
“Seems like you’re almost ready again.” She looks down at his hardening cock.
“Fuck, please, come sit on my face.”
“You don’t want me to clean up first?”
“You just licked my asshole, I’m not too concerned about tasting my own come while it drips out of you.”
Amber whimpers and scrambles her way to hover over his face, leaning down over his cock so she can lick over his tip. Harry immediately starts sucking on her swollen clit, making her gasp before she’s able to wrap her lips around him. They went at for hours, switching between a number of positions, making an absolute mess of Harry’s sheets. Amber realizes that Penny must have given them a combination of the strawberry tea and the chocolate tea; that’s a strong combination. They couldn’t get enough of each other, and instead of being upset with Penny’s antics, they decided to just roll with it. Harry ate out Amber’s ass, she rode him reverse, he hit it from the side, they were like animals. He had scratch marks all over his chest and back, she was littered in bite marks, by the time the tea wore off, they were exhausted. Neither had the energy to magically make the sheets clean, so Harry stripped the bed while Amber helped make it back up. They fell asleep curled up with another completely naked.
//
Opal woke up to an empty apartment, to which she laughed. She headed down the stairs to go see Penny, and let her know their sneakiness paid off. The only thing was, there was no sign of Penny. Opal couldn’t get a scent on her.
“Oh, no.” Opal says to herself, and goes upstairs to Harry’s apartment. She scratches at his door. “Amber!”
Amber sits up quickly in bed. She wraps herself in one of Harry’s blankets and sprints to the door, rattling Harry awake.
“Come back to bed.” He groans, but she doesn’t hear him.
Amber opens the door, and Opal rushes in.
“What’s going on?” Amber asks her frantically.
“I’m sure you’re tired, and rightfully pissed off, but Penny didn’t show up this morning. I don’t even have a scent on her.”
“Shit.” Amber groans. “This has Max written all over it. He probably bagged her on her walk here this morning. Why she doesn’t just live here, I’ll never know.”
“What’s going on?” Harry asks them.
“Penny’s missing, get dressed.” Amber says firmly before snapping herself and Opal upstairs.
Harry wanted to talk to Amber about everything they did last night, take her to breakfast like he said he would. But Penny was missing, so that meant their nightmare from the night prior wasn’t over. He gets himself dressed and down to the shop. Amber was already waiting downstairs with Opal.
“Where do you think they took her?” Harry asks.
“I have an idea.” Amber sighs. “He probably sent those damn shadows after her.”
“Penny’s so experienced, I don’t understand.” Harry shakes his head.
“She’s old, Harry.” Opal says. “She wouldn’t stand a chance alone.”
Amber’s eyes start glowing out of nowhere, and she starts hovering in the air. Just as soon as it happens, she’s back on the floor.
“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says.
“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says. “It’s essentially a trap, they know we’re coming for her.” She looks down at Opal. “Are you strong enough for this?”
“I’ll have to be. Let’s go get her.”
//
Amber snaps them to where they need to be. Mac had the shadows take her to an old, abandoned building on the outskirts of town. Amber brought them just down the hall from where Penny was being kept. Harry had so many questions, but he knew now wasn’t the time. He stays close to Amber and Opal, walking down a dark corridor.
“Harry, stay with Opal. I’m going on the room.”
“I can’t let you go in there alone.” He tells her.
“I wasn’t asking.” She says before snapping herself into the room. Penny was chained up to a wall. “For the love of god.” Amber sighs before snapping her free.
“Behind you!” Penny shouts, and Amber gets zapped by what looks like red electricity. She gets knocked to the ground, but picks herself back up. Max’s eyes were glowing red.
“I told you that you had no idea what you did.” He grins evilly at her. “Give me the dog, now.”
“It’s me you want, not her. You have me, okay? Just take me.”
“The thing is…” He walks towards her. “I don’t have you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. “You wreak of that dolt’s scent, Amber. What did you do, go home and fuck him to celebrate? I found this one because she was wearing one of your sweaters, thought it was you.”
Amber looks back at Penny with wide eyes. She had to have known that Max was going to come for her. Penny set the tea up so Harry’s scent would mix with Amber’s, and make her hard to find. Penny essentially sacrificed herself.
“And to think I was mad at you.” Amber smiles softly at Penny.
“I’d never trick you on purpose.” Penny says.
“Blah, blah, blah.” Max rolls his eyes. “Either way, I’ve lured you here.”
“What do you even want from me? Do you think forcing me into a relationship is going to be much fun?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Max chuckles. “You think you’re such a prize, but you’re not. I’ve had women far better than you. This really is about Opal, so hand her over.”
“No.”
Amber’s hands glow, and she strikes a blow at Max. He blocks it and sends it back to her.
“Like the new powers? My friends gifted them to me.” He grins.
“Red’s never been your color, sorry to say.”
They both run towards each other to duke it out. Shadows start to crowd around Penny, and she tries to deflect them, but she needs help. Harry and Opal storm in to help her. Harry’s able to zap them away. He looks over at Max, and runs towards him, striking him with a powerful blow. Amber’s eyes widen as she watches Harry try to face off with Max.
“Amber, get Opal and Penny home, now!”
“Harry, I’m not leaving you!”
“Go!”
“Listen to your foolish boy, Amber, you won’t want to see this.” Max says as he strikes Harry.
Amber fights back tears as she snaps herself, Penny, and Opal out of there. She starts crying because she knows she doesn’t have the strength to snap back right away.
“If I lose him, I…I don’t know what I’ll do.” She cries. “I finally opened up to him, and I-“
“Don’t waste your energy on panicking.” Penny says. “I tried to stop him so you wouldn’t have to worry. I wanted to ward him off, I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.” Opal says. “I was in the woods that night because I was following him. I had caught wind of dark magic usage, and my suspicions of it being him were true. I had no choice but to tell you.” She says to Amber.
Amber drops to her knees, and wraps her arms around Opal. Amber didn’t blame Opal for anything. This was all Max’s fault. She could feel herself getting angrier. She needed to know if Harry was alright.
“I have to get back to him. He can’t face Max on his own.” Amber looks up at Penny. “Do you think I’ll be able to do it?”
“You are the strongest girl I know. If anyone could muster up the energy to do this, it’s you. Don’t rely on the anger, rely on the love that feel for that boy.”
Amber wants to protest, but she couldn’t deny it. She loved Harry, a lot. She’d fallen for him, and she needed him to be okay. She takes a deep breath, and snaps herself back to where Harry is. She gasps once she’s back in that room. Harry was levitating Max in the air with his powerful green glow. He was holding Max in some sort of bubble.
“Harry!” Amber shouts.
“I’m okay! I don’t know how I’m doing this, but I’m okay!”
“Let me help!”
She blasts her blue glow up at Max, mixing with Harry’s. Max shouts this goulash sound, and a bright red light shines, filling the room. A loud explosion occurs, blasting Harry and Amber back. Max falls to the ground with a loud thud. Amber scrambles to her feet, and dusts herself off. Harry was totally knocked out. She wants to tend to him, but she has to make sure Max can’t do any more damage. She rushes over to him, and stands over him, nudging his body with her boot. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at her.
“You’re so far gone.” She shakes her head. “You could have been such a wonderful mage, now look at you.”
“I’ve always envied you.” He says weakly. “You were given the best companion, one that could actually help you and bond with you. You’re one of the most powerful citrines out there. We could have been something together.”
“You ruined it. I feel nothing for you, absolutely nothing.”
“I can tell. Your heart belongs to that one.”
Amber steps on his chest, making him wince.
“And don’t you forget it. I showed mercy by taking your powers away. Walk away while you still can, or I won’t show you such kindness again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
She rushes back over to Harry, and immediately snaps them back to the shop. He was still unconscious. Penny and Opal crowd around the two of them.
“Harry, please wake up.” Amber whispers to him. “I need you to be okay, please, I need you.” She cries into his chest.
“Amber.” Penny puts her hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Let’s get him up into your bed. You have some things in your kitchen we can whip up to help him.”
Amber nods, and Penny snaps them all upstairs. Amber gets Harry tucked into her bed. His breathing was steadily, and his blood pressure was normal. He used so much energy to keep Max at bay, he must be so drained, especially after the night they had. All he wanted to do was take her to breakfast, Amber hoped they’d get the chance. She goes into her kitchen with Penny while Opal stays curled up next to Harry.
“So, what are we making?” Amber sighs.
“Here, crush these mint leaves up, I’m making a watermelon tea, so I’m reducing some watermelon over the stove to make a syrup. We’ll use the mint leaves for the tea itself.”
“What will this do? He can’t drink this if he’s not awake.”
“He’ll need it for when he wakes up. It’ll be like an energy boost.”
“How do we wake him up?”
“We don’t. He needs to sleep whatever this is off. You’ll be there when he wakes. I’m sorry again about last night. When you told me what Max did, I knew he’d try to find you today. I just wanted to help, and-“
“I understand why you did it. It’s okay.” Amber smiles softly. “It could have been worse. Please, sleep here tonight in my guest room.”
“Alright.” Penny nods. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Once the tea is done, Amber brings it into her room, sets it down on the side table closest to Harry, and crawls into bed. It was only the early afternoon, but she felt sleep pulling her in. She succumbs to it, letting her eyes droop as she rests her head on Harry’s chest.
Hours later, she stirs awake when she feels the weight shift in the bed a bit. She looks over to see Harry knuckling at his eyes, and sitting up. He looks at her and smiles softly.
“Hey.” He says.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, reaching to caress his cheek.
“M’alright. I woke up a little while ago, Opal had me drink the tea you made. She’s downstairs with Penny running the shop. I fell back asleep after I drank some of the tea.” He presses a kiss to her palm, and she smiles. “How are you?”
“Better now.” She sighs. “I’m glad you’re awake, I was worried. We got blasted backwards after our magic combined. I don’t know how you were able to hold him off for as long as you did.”
“He…he was trying to egg me on. He was saying all of these awful things about you, but I remember reading it wasn’t good to harness anger to make yourself more powerful, so I just sort of thought about how I wanted to keep you safe, how I wanted Opal to stay safe because I knew that if anything happened to her you’d be devastated.”
“I was really worried about you.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes widen. “I thought he was going to try to kill you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it out of there.”
“Amber.” Harry cups her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe her tears away. “I…I didn’t know you felt so strongly about me. We haven’t had a chance to talk about last night. I know we did a lot last night, and we had a bit more, um, gusto thanks to that tea, but everything I said to you last night I meant. I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you too. I…I don’t want to know what it’s like to be without you. I was scared that I would. I know I pushed you away in the beginning, but I was fighting off something bigger than the two of us. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before.” She looks down for a moment, and then back up at him. “I think…I think we were supposed to find each other, like, there was some sort of pull between us. I mean, there were plenty of other stores on this strip with vacant apartments, but you came into mine.”
“I always thought this stuff only happened in the books I’ve read, but it all sort of makes sense. I mean, I had no idea I was a mage, or whatever. Clearly, whatever this is inside of me was trying to bust out. And…amethysts are drawn to citrines, right?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Amber smiles. “Usually, um, it’s a male citrine that goes for a female amethyst, not the other way around.”
“What about same sex couples?” He smirks.
“Same sex couples usually share the same gem, it’s rare if they don’t. I’m not sure what the science behind it is, you’d have to ask Penny.”
“Oh, is Penny…?”
“Mhm, she’s a widow, but her wife was the kindest woman. The two of them basically raised me.”
“What was her name?”
“Luna.” Amber smiles fondly. “They’re both garnets.”
“That’s really cool. I want to keep learning more about all of this; it’s so fascinating.”
“You’ll definitely learn more. I’ve got shelves upon shelves of books downstairs that you haven’t even touched yet.”
“Do you think I should tell my family about any of this?”
“God, no. Sometimes these things skip generations, they’d probably think you were nuts.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “We’ve digressed a bit, um, I feel really strongly about you.”
“I feel strongly about you too.”
“Like…I…I’m in love with you, Harry.”
“Oh, thank god.” He sighs with relief. “Feel like I fell in love with you from the second we met, but I’ve been trying really hard not to come on too strong. You’re not the biggest fan of romance.” He smirks.
“No, I’m not.” She leans in to peck his lips. “I’m the stoic one, and you’re the cinnamon roll.” She grins.
“Mm, your dirty talk is impeccable.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes her laugh.
“Let me continue. You’re the only one this stoic girl becomes soft for. You turn me into a little cinnamon roll, one of those really sweet ones with a ton of icing.”
Harry chuckles and leans in to kiss her. He sucks on her bottom lip, smiling into the kiss.
“Definitely sweet.” He mutters against her lips.
“We should probably get out of bed before we completely throw off our sleep schedules.”
“You’re right.” He sighs. “M’also starving. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”
“Same here.”
“I owe you a breakfast date.”
“It’s already past five, no restaurant would serve us breakfast right now.”
“Maybe not, but I’m sure I could whip something up. You got groceries?”
“Yeah, plenty of food in the kitchen.” She blinks. “You want to make us breakfast for dinner?”
“Mhm.” He kisses her again. “Do you like pancakes?”
“Love ‘em.” She nods.
“What about chocolate chip pancakes?”
“Those are my favorite.”
“Mine too.”
//
Turns out Harry made some of the best pancakes Amber ever had. After they ate, they went down to the shop to see how Opal and Penny were doing. Amber decided to close down early. Harry needed to finish up some homework, and make sure he had his lesson plans ready to go for tomorrow morning. It was weird getting back to reality, but it was a routine Amber was sort of craving. For so long their main focus was training to prepare for Max’s eventual strike. Amber couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t try something again, but she looked him dead in the eyes when she threatened him. She saw fear, she could feel his fear. She wasn’t worried about him anymore, nor was she as worried about Opal. She could exhale for the first time in a while.
She had a new concern: Harry. Over the next couple of weeks, she wouldn’t let him sleep alone, which he didn’t mind one bit. Harry liked that Amber was being so affectionate towards him, he reveled in the attention. The kisses, the soft touches, the hugs, the smiles, everything Amber did, Harry loved. He couldn’t wait to finish up his office hours most days so he could get to the shop. Even though Amber had to work, Opal would still curl up at his feet, and Penny would drop off an extra biscotti at his table. Harry felt like he had formed this new little family. It made the little town he decided to call home actually start to feel like home. He even got to see how Amber made her many teas.
The only thing that wasn’t so great was that Harry’s student Whitney tended to keep him late, and Amber didn’t like it. She trusted Harry with her whole heart, but she didn’t quite like the idea of someone else thinking they could try to flirt with him. Whitney came into the shop all the time, Amber knew exactly who Whitney was. She was a senior, so not much younger than herself or Harry, but still, it wasn’t appropriate for a student to be so forward with her professor. So, much like with everything else, Amber took matters into her own hands.
One evening, Harry had made Amber a late dinner after she closed up the shop. After they ate, they made their way to his sofa. Harry thought they were going to just cuddle for a bit, but Amber had made her way into his lap, straddling him and running her fingers through his hair while she sucked on his neck. Normally, Harry would be more cautious about having a mark in such a public spot, but it was getting colder out, so he could wear a turtleneck or scarf to cover it up. He was also just enjoying her body on his too much to care. She was rolling her hips into his, and his hands were kneading her ass.
“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” He pants as her teeth really start to sink into his skin. “Not that I’m complaining.”
She pops off him with loud, wet noise, catching her breath as she looks at the red mark forming on his neck. She runs her thumb over it in hopes that it’ll turn a delightful dark purple.
“You just smell so good, you know your cologne drives me wild.” She says as she latches back onto his neck. He moans out as she nips at his skin. She rolls her hips down in a way that grins her center right over his bulge.
“Fuck, Amber, can we move this to the bedroom? M’about ready to explode here.” He groans, squeezing harder at the skin on her hips. She tugs his head more to the side to make the mark even bigger. “Can mark me up all over, yeah?”
“Mm, that sounds nice.” She mumbles into his neck, and kisses her way over to his lips. “Maybe we could take a quick shower, and I could lick you all over too.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and his eyes visibly darken.
“Should make you dinner more often.”
//
Harry was on cloud nine the next day at school. He couldn’t stop smiling even if he tried. Amber made good on her promise to lick him all over, especially where he liked it most. He liked that they both enjoyed a good tonguing, and he liked that they were so good at taking turns. He wasn’t even mad about how fucked up his neck looked. Harry knew what Amber was doing, she was clearly marking her territory, and he didn’t mind one bit. If he wasn’t into her dominant personality, he wouldn’t be with her. The sweater he was wearing covered up most of it anyways, and his students never seemed to hide the marks on their necks, so what was the big deal, really?
After he finishes his classes for the day, he heads to his office for his office hours. He dives into the papers he needed to grade. He assigned a ten-page paper for his fiction workshop, and now he was regretting it. He got about a third of the way through his stack when Whitney came to his office.
“Hi, Professor Styles.” She smiles.
“Hey, Whit.” He smiles back. “I’m actually glad you’re here, could use your help.”
“With what?”
“I have a ton of grades to put into a spreadsheet from my physical gradebook. Think you could do that for me?”
“Sure!”
Harry unhooks his laptop from the docking station so she could dive into the spreadsheet he started. Things were quiet for a bit, but she was having trouble reading his writing. Harry had horrible penmanship.
“Professor Styles, I can’t read this.” She says, getting up from her seat and walking over to him. She leans over him slightly, and points to some of his scribbles. “See, I can’t tell if that’s an 87 or an 81.” Her cleavage was practically spilling into his face. He was about to say something, but someone else beat him to it.
“Maybe you should get your eyes checked.” They both look up to see Amber leaning against the door frame.
“Hey!” Harry smiles brightly, and Whitney stands up straight. “Amber, this is Whitney, one of my students. Whitney, this is my girlfriend, Amber.”
“Girlfriend, oh…um…I didn’t realize you were seeing someone, Professor Styles.”
“Course you did, how else would he have gotten that mark on his neck.” Amber smirks. “Now, why don’t you do everyone a favor and put your tits away because he’s not going to suck on them, alright?”
“Amber.” Harry looked mortified.
Whitney looked frightened, and she was speechless. She quickly gathers her things and walks out of Harry’s office. Harry stands up and goes to close his door. He was upset, Amber could tell.
“What?” Amber asks.
“You can’t talk to one of my students like that!”
“Why not? She was practically shoving her tits in your face, and you were letting it happen.”
“I was about to tell her to back off, but then you showed up. Why are you even here?”
“I came to surprise you, but I can see I’m unwanted. Why was she even here?”
“She comes to help me most days after class. She was working on a spreadsheet for me. And you’re not unwanted, you just don’t come to see me here often. It would have been a nice surprise if you hadn’t come in guns hot.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks at her. “Are you seriously jealous?”
“I can’t help that I feel protective over you. I don’t like that other people think you could be theirs when you’re mine.”
“And to think you didn’t want anything to do with me just a few months ago.” He smirks.
“That joke stopped being funny after the first time you made it.” She rolls her eyes, and stops towards him. Harry was just under a foot taller than Amber, and yet she commanded every room she walked into. She grips the collar of his sweater and tugs him down to her face, her eyes glowing.
“You’re so sexy when you’re like this.” He wraps his arms around her, lifting her up and sitting her down on his desk. “But don’t think it gives you a pass for acting like that. You need to be nice. She’s one of your customers, remember? You’re nice all the time at the shop, why can’t be nice where I work?” He pouts.
“Because no one flirts with me at my place of business.”
“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “I’d be a very rich man if I had a dollar for every time I’ve caught someone checking you out.”
“That’s totally different. No one’s shoving a part of their body in my face.” She pouts back at him. “Why does someone so pretty have to be one of your frequent flyers?”
“Okay, let’s get something straight. The only tits I want shoved in my face are yours.” He plants his hands on either side of her thighs, getting nice and close to her face. “And even though Whitney might be pretty, no one could ever compare to how incredibly beautiful you are.”
He always knew exactly how to melt her heart. He leans in to kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip, and licking into her mouth. Her hands move up to his chest, tugging on his sweater to pull him closer. She wraps her legs around his waist, and slowly lowers herself back onto his desk. He follows her, helping her keep her legs around him.
“Wait.” She pants as he kisses down her neck. “Go lock your door.”
“Shit, you’re right.” He says, quickly going over to the door to lock it, and then going back to her. “This is going to hurt your back, do you wanna do it on my chair, on the loveseat?”
“I really want you on top.” She whines.
“Yeah? Want me to be in control right now?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s sit on the loveseat, even if you’re on top, I’ll thrust up into you.” He kisses her. “I’ll rub your clit.” He kisses her again. “Suck on your glorious tits.”
“Fuck, okay, just get my clothes off.” She huffs.
He picks her up, and undoes her jeans quickly. He tugs them down, along with her underwear. Harry drops his own pants and rips his sweater off. Amber gets her jacket off and wraps her arms around his neck. Harry tugs her back to the loveseat, turning her around so she’ll sit on him reverse. He pumps his cock a few times before lining himself up with her. Her jeans were around her ankles since she didn’t bother to take her boots off, so things felt a little tighter than usual; neither of them were complaining.
He bites down on her shoulder, and her head rolls back into his chest. His hands grip Amber’s hips, and he starts thrusting up into her. They needed to be quick and quiet, so he takes one of his hands and it brings it up to her mouth so she could suck on his fingers. Her eyes roll back as she sucks on his digits. His other hand slips between her thighs so his fingers could work her clit. She moans around his fingers from the sheer pleasure. His tip was pummeling her g-spot, and his fingers were working magic – excuse the pun. His palm was pressing into her bladder, and she was starting to panic. She didn’t want to make a mess of his loveseat.
“Can feel you squeezing around me.” He says into her hear, nipping at her lobe.
“H-Harry, I-“ She mumbles around his fingers.
“Hm? What’s the matter, gonna make a mess?”
“Mhm.” She whines.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He stops all motions immediately, and lifts her off of him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” She asks as he grabs a tissue to come into.
“You said you wanted me in control.” He says as he pulls his pants back up. “Can’t have you squirting all over my office. I’ll take care of you when I finish work for the day.” He smiles and kisses her forehead.
“Harry, this isn’t funny.”
“M’not trying to be, Babe.” He helps her pull her own pants back up. “I have a lot to do, and since you sent my little worker bee away, I may be here a little later than usual. I’ll come to your place when I’m done.”
“You’re sure you wanna play this game with me?” She asks as she puts her jacket back on. “I don’t think you’re prepared for what you’re coming home to by denying me of an orgasm.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He smirks. “I can’t have you thinking you deserve a reward for acting up in my office.” He pecks her lips and opens his door. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
She narrows her eyes at him, looks him up and down, and nods.
“Okay.”
Harry felt a chill run through him as she left. Maybe he should have let her come.
//
Harry wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of work to do. He didn’t get home until after the shop closed. He drops his things off in his apartment before going up to Amber’s. She was sitting on her couch watching TV when he came in.
“Hey, Baby, sorry I’m back so late. Where’s Opal?”
“Staying with Penny tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Told her we needed some alone time.” She stands up and walks over to him, giving him a slow kiss on the cheek.
“Huh.” He swallows. “Well, we’re alone now.” He puts his hands on her hips. “Did you, uh, take care of yourself at all?”
“I’ll admit, I almost did just to spite you, but I thought it would ruin the fun.” She slides her hands up his chest. “That being said, I’m not quite in the mood for you to be so in control anymore.”
“What a relief.” He sighs. “M’exhausted, I don’t think I could keep up the façade of being so in charge right now.” He pouts at her and she giggles.
“You made a very good point earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to your student like that. Bring some coupons with you tomorrow to give her as an apology, but make no mistake, if she keeps hitting on you I will not hesitate to fuck her up.”
“I can live with that. She’ll only be my student for another month or so.” He presses his forehead to hers. “So, what would like to do instead of playing games tonight?”
“I’d very much appreciate it if you ate me out for a bit. You denied me of what would have been a rather powerful orgasm and I think you should make up for it.”
“Fair enough. Then will you go back to bouncing on my cock the way you were? Felt so nice.”
She nods, and takes his hand to lead him to the bedroom. She takes her night shirt off, revealing her naked body to him.
“You’re wicked.” He grins. “Lounging around with that glorious bum of yours out for anyone to see.”
“Good thing I was home alone.” She grins, and gets onto the bed, spreading her legs open for him. She snaps her fingers to light the candles in the room.
Harry rids himself of his clothes, and knees onto the bed. He kisses on her belly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as he makes his way between her thighs. He hooks his arms around her thighs and dives in. He sucks on her clit immediately, making her moan out. She cards her fingers through his hair as he eats her like he hasn’t eaten in days. The noises he makes as he sucks and licks on her are filthy, and they only spur Amber on more with her moans and whimpers.
“Oh my god, Harry.” She whimpers. “You’re so fucking good, Baby, so fucking good.” She was near tears. His tongue was so wet and warm, fucking in and out of her. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, Harry!” She comes hard on his tongue, and he laps it up, moaning at how good she tastes.
“Fucking hell.” He breathes when he sits up. “Do you want me to give you another this way?”
“God, you’re insatiable.” She groans. “Please, I need you inside me now.”
Harry sits up against the headboard, and Amber sits on him reverse she like had earlier in the day. This time they could both be as loud as they wanted, and this time Harry could grope freely at her breasts. She uses her knees to move up and down on him. She was moving fast, wanting him to fill her up. He uses one of his hands to rub circles into her clit.
“Amber.” He moans into her ear, thrusting up into her. “You’re so fucking wet for me, feels amazing.”
“Only ever want your cock, no one else’s.” She had never said anything like that to him before. “Don’t want anyone else ever again.”
“Fuck, I don’t want anyone else either. M’all yours.”
“Yes!” She gasps as she comes around him. He follows right after, filling her up. “Yes.” She whispers.
“Are you all mine?” He whispers into her ear before kissing on her cheek and shoulder.
“Mhm.” She relaxes into him, and looks up his face, admiring his features. “You’re all I want.”
“You’re all I want too. I’m so glad we found one another.” He wraps his arms tightly around her.
“So am I.” She sighs happily.
Eventually, she gets off of him, and they both clean themselves up before getting into bed. Harry tells Amber about his classes and coursework, and she tells him about some of the funny customers that came in that day. They lay there giggling and chatting, just enjoying each other’s company.
“Harry?” She asks as she traces over his tattoos with her finger tips.
“Hm? What is it, my love?”
“You mean the world to me, I hope you know that.” She snuggles into his chest. “Jealousy is quite ugly, but when I love, I love hard. It’s just who I am.”
“I’m so honored that you’ve welcomed me into your small circle. I see the way you are with Opal and Penny, the love you have for them radiates off you. I can feel what you feel for me.”
“And I can feel what you feel for me.”
“We’re connected.” He says, and kisses the top of her head.
Commercial electricians install, maintain and repair electrical systems in commercial buildings such as factories, office buildings, retail stores, and restaurants. They work for manufacturers installing new equipment or service call centres that require routine repairs; they may also be employed by contractors who specialize in installing wiring and lighting fixtures in large homes or businesses. Their duties are similar to those of residential electricians except on a larger scale. In addition to installing light fixtures, outlets and switches in rooms designed for human activity; commercially wired areas include elevators, parking garages, walkways leading from building entrances, storage areas housing hazardous materials or equipment used for manufacturing products that produce toxic fumes when operating--all of which require extensive wiring and special electrical fixtures.
Education Requirements for Becoming a Commercial Electrician
To become a licensed electrician, employers require you to complete at least four years of apprenticeship training to be guaranteed employment after your courses have been completed. This type of degree can be taken either online or at a college, depending on the teacher's location in Canada, USA or Australia. Each country has different requirements for obtaining this license, so before you enroll into an electrical course, please make sure that your state requires one before taking any education classes, resulting in increased tuition fees and longer training times.
Education requirements for becoming has three basic elements:
High School Diploma or General Equivalency Degree (GED)
AHA cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) certification.
Licensing requirements differ from state to state: licensing exams that test knowledge of electrical theory and safety; or apprenticeships, which typically require 4-5 years of on the job training. Some states may also have trade tests such as an electrician's exam demonstrating a candidate's skill with hand tools, wire strippers, voltage tester etc. There are hundreds of community colleges and technical schools offering courses in the vocational field of electricity. One can expect to spend approximately three years studying general electronics, blueprint reading and proper wiring techniques in addition to attending classes on various aspects of electricity such as motors and generators fundamentals. Students who attend trade toward certificates, associate degrees, or other vocational training to get a job upon completion must pass an exam of the state in which they will be working. They may also be required to complete specific apprenticeship programs that many large companies and trade unions offer.
Job Outlook for Commercial Electricians
Commercial electricians work in various industries, including manufacturing, food service and distribution, scientific research and technology. Electricians are needed to perform repair work and installation services for equipment and fixtures such as air conditioners, elevators or lighting systems. Many electrical contractors have expanded their companies by installing and managing security cameras, a growing industry due to the rising numbers of burglaries in businesses and homes. Becoming an electrician takes time but is a good career choice for those who enjoy working with their hands. A commercial electrician can make anywhere from $10 -$15 per hour in most areas unless they are members of one of the trade unions that may pay more money for each job completed depending upon the union.
Job Description for Commercial Electricians
Commercial electricians may find work in offices, factories, and manufacturing facilities of all kinds. They install electrical wiring systems, fixtures and equipment that power or light office buildings and warehouses (such as emergency lights, fire alarms), manufacturing plants engaged in the production of textiles or metal products (welding machinery) and industrial bakeries where large amounts of electricity are needed to operate heavy-duty ovens used to bake breads, pastries etc.). The duties are similar to those of residential electricians except on a larger scale. In addition to installing light fixtures, outlets and switches in rooms designed for human activity, commercially wired areas include elevators, parking garages, walkways, stairways and restrooms. Electricians that work in factories must be prepared for the unique hazards involved with wiring high voltage equipment such as conveyor belts, computerized cutting machines etc.)
Average Salary Range in Australia
The average salary of an electrician in Australia is approximately AUD 35,000 per year. Electricians salaries range from $24,000 to $46,000 and above each year, depending upon the years of experience and employers. The highest-paid electrician is those working for the government, followed by private sector companies. The jobs can be physically demanding as they require lifting large items such as light fixtures and wiring, which may become challenging due to their weight.
Electrical contractors who own their insurance company products and any tools that belong to them do not pay a premium for their coverage based upon owning these items since it's considered part of their required equipment when servicing customers' homes or businesses. They generally pay less than other industries such as forestry, farming, or construction. Most companies who hire them expect them to carry primary fire and liability policies on their behalf and any assistants working with them.
Electrical work is a field that will always be in high demand due to the technological advances that continue to occur daily. New areas that have not been explored as of yet will arise so new careers will be created, and it's an ideal choice for anyone who likes working with their hands, is physically fit and enjoys being part of something larger by providing society with clean energy sources which are better for the environment than fossil fuels.
Since electricians are allowed to manufacture their own products, they can build or repair anything electrical without having to pay someone else large amounts of money. Many people choose this career because they like taking things apart and figuring out how they work, which allows them to learn various disciplines such as drafting, physics and mathematics.
Electrical work is a great career choice because it has a low unemployment rate that hovers around 3% or less since 2008. According to data collected by Stats Canada, 43% of all currently employed workers in this field can expect to earn between $30,000-$50,000 annually. In addition to this, electrical workers have steady employment throughout the year and don't need to take on temporary jobs for them to get by. The average age of an electrician is between 30-55 years old, which means they can work for many more decades before retirement occurs.
In conclusion, these statistics were found on the internet via documents posted by both the government as well as private entities who are connected to this field. By visiting, one can better understand what an electrical worker does and why they do it. The most important tool needed for this job is not a tool, but instead their mind. Their mind is vital in that it allows them to comprehend the principles and concepts of electricity. This makes them an essential member of society as a whole because they can provide people with power that is limitless and reliable.
Against Pandemic Capitalism. An Interview with Milan’s Emergency Volunteer Brigades
Interview conducted March 21, 2020.
1. How are you all? Are you managing to keep in touch virtually? Are you still managing to exist as a "group" or to keep to a "common position" despite the isolation?
We are fine. The situation here in Milan has been building into a crescendo. After February 23rd, there were weeks of uncertainty, during which there were contradictory orders from the government. During the first week the government closed some businesses, then they reopened them; later the awareness of the epidemic grew, and the more drastic measures were then applied. Now that everyone is pretty much isolated, although we are keeping in touch with each other frequently, it is more complicated to come up with common positions and to exist as a group. At the same time, various communication channels and types of reflection and action have opened up, yes. Some of us have focused more on the conditions in prisons, while others are engaged in translating or sharing thoughts. Some others converged in the local Solidarity Brigades, and others are looking for more contacts with comrades abroad to have a broader picture of the situation.
At the beginning everyone had their own perception of things; there were those who panicked and those who claimed that it was yet another way to instill fear in the population, since in any case politicians and medical experts seemed to espouse different opinions. From the governor of Lombardy, who published a selfie video locked in his house with a mask, to the mayor of Milan, who made a video entitled #milanononsiferma (#milanwillnotclose), in which he tries to show that the hyperproductive city would keep going; to virologists, who were insulting each other on various TV programs. Then the number of infected increased and the red zone was extended from Codogno (where the so-called “patient zero” was found) to the whole of Lombardy. People started to develop a different perception of risk: by that point, we all knew someone who had been infected. As I mentioned, nobody had really understood what was happening and we continued our everyday collective routines (collective football training, meetings, assemblies, and so on). From March 9th, the government took a unified national approach; the red zone was extended across the whole of Italy. Orders were given not to leave the house, unless you had a certificate provided by the authorities. The restrictions have been very strict: an evening curfew begins at 6pm is in place. Since then, all of Italy has been “online”.
Many initiatives were born, from tutorials about how to defend against COVID-19, to new radio and streaming sites, meetings (especially on Zoom) filled with people who often have never even met, some from all over the world. The absurdity of it is that we are experiencing a more conscious use of our devices. While before we perceived them as instruments of alienation and distraction, we now use them better as ways of sharing knowledge.
As for our group, we had been facing a period of great fragmentation. Ironically, the work of the brigades and the presence of a common but invisible enemy now involves everyone, since we are all touched by the same problem.
2. What is the situation in working-class neighbourhoods? How are the cops and the army behaving? In Milan, as we know, the police are generally very aggressive, but their attitude can change according to zone, acting civil enough and "teacherly" in more well-to-do neighbourhoods, and with the arrogant and violent "colonizing" approach in more working-class neighbourhoods.
The situation in the working-class districts of Milan changes depending on the area. In the densely-populated areas, filled with small and overcrowded houses, and mainly inhabited by foreigners, life continues to take place in the streets. Walking around in neighbourhoods like Giambellino or via Padova, you might see smaller food shops still open, creating spaces to meet for people who seem unconcerned with the directions issued by the authorities to stay at home. The police patrol the streets, but not in an overly dominating fashion, mostly trying to limit these numerous gatherings. The army was already present in some areas with an anti-terrorist function. Since the 23rd of March we've seen their number increasing and they have begun to patrol as public officials with the possibility of stopping and asking for documents or ID. It seems that for now, they don’t seem particularly comfortable in this role, showing a certain reluctance in being aggressive. In neighbourhoods where the presence of the police is usually regarded with hostility, the discouragement of gatherings and “dangerous” kinds of behaviour becomes difficult to put into practice.
Other working-class neighbourhoods on the outskirts, where people normally only go home to sleep, seem deserted. After the closing of the shops inside the shopping centres (the only places in these areas where social life takes place), life has died out, and everyone hides in their own apartments. In the last few days, media-induced fears of the dangers of walking and doing sports in parks have spread, with people looking out from their balconies and railing against neighbours who go out to take a walk in the yard, or even call the police.
And it’s obvious that the slogan #iorestoacasa (#Istayathome) is not considered relevant to everyone. Those who can afford to pay rent and have a job are locked in their homes, doing online shopping, while the rest of the population, either precarious or unemployed, working in logistics or infrastructure, experience a quite different situation. A very wide gap between the classes has opened. Confindustria (General Confederation of Italian Industry) forced workers to keep on working in factories without any health and safety precautions.
So in working-class neighbourhoods, many people are continuing to work. The increase of police and military in the streets is considerable but there isn’t a huge gap between neighborhoods: they are simply everywhere. We are seeing another phenomenon too, which is the becoming-policemen of normal citizens, which is perhaps stronger in bourgeois residential areas: there have been many episodes of people denouncing others to the police, or just people shouting “Go home!” to people walking in the street. Those who have been most affected by these severe measures have been homeless people and migrants.
3. How do the volunteer Brigades work? How do you handle the relationship between institutions (the state, local council, NGOs…)? How do you train those who participate? Where did the idea originate? How many people are involved? Are you trying to extend the idea to the whole of Italy?
The Brigades were born out of an idea that circulated as word of mouth on social media and it quickly became viral. The idea which came out of it is that we can obviously talk about who are responsible for all this, and they will have to pay the consequences, but in our current situation in which there is a diffuse sense of fear among people, we have to look out for the community, especially those of us who have experience with many different forms of organization, since we have learned in these years to manage with “extreme” situations, to act with courage, for the sake of everyone. We were inspired by several examples of mutual aid and organizations which worked throughout Italy after the earthquakes in the center of Italy (in the 2000s).
We understood pretty quickly that this situation was much larger than us, and that it wouldn’t be sufficient to do things autonomously or even on the national level, so that we would be vulnerable from multiple sides, especially vis-a-vis repression. If you’re found out of your house without any particular reason they can sanction you.
We looked for an organization that could give us the possibility of having an official status, and found Emergency, the humanitarian organization which provides aid in war situations and which has its offices in Milan. Through this we were able to construct an infrastructure which legitimates us and which mediates between us and the Milan local council. In the same way that we created the “Brigades” through our personal involvement, which began from social media and word-of-mouth, we also found individuals for each area to coordinate the groups. This structure has organized training sessions, first of all for the group leaders, who in turn started training the people in their own groups. The structure also allowed us to have passes in order to be able to move around the city freely. Currently we have more than 200 volunteers and many people on the waiting list to be trained and many others who continue to write saying that they would like to join. We are managing to cover all the 9 districts of Milan and the calls are increasing daily. In some areas we are connected to social centers or self-organized spaces which make up the base of the Brigades.
Our structures are being tested daily but it is still small and spread out, and we are being contacted by people from other parts of Italy who are beginning to organize themselves in the same way. Our goal is to create an infrastructure across the whole of Italy.
4. Can you update us on the situation in the prisons? Are there ways to stay in contact with people inside? (Here they gave a “bonus” of €40 for every inmate, which allow them to make more phone calls, and they gave free TV access to everyone, hoping in this way to placate unrest)
After the riots, and the deaths in prison, and the first case of Covid-19 in the Voghera prison, the “Cura Italia” (“Heal Italy”) decree established new orders on how to confront the pandemic in penitentiary institutions: house arrest and electronic tags for those serving less than 18 months; those under 6 months and minors are to be directly sent home, without tags.
Beyond this, it was established that those accused of having participated in the revolts of March 9th/10th will not be allowed to benefit from these alternative measures. Following the protests many sections were destroyed, and for this reason there has been a decrease of 2000 prison places, due to works that have to be carried out immediately.
News reached us (from allies and family members) of many reprisals in the Opera prison: the inmates report going hungry and fearing for themselves, they describe being denied TV, food, showers, phone calls; having only half an hour of air, and being beaten, hands and bones broken; “riot police entered the cells and beat us up in the dark”; the guards took away cooking materials and gave the inmates only water and cigarettes.
After the events of March many inmates were separated in order to put down the unrest; this was the case in Ferrara and Alessandria; 60 inmates in Melfi, 500 in Modena, 107 in Foggia, and 60 in Naples, were transported on a military boat belonging to the Italian navy to the correctional facility on the island of Procida; 650 from Poggioreale were separated and put into different jails in Brindisi, Messina, Bari, Lagonegro, Melfi, Potenza and Reggio Calabria.
Day after day the numbers of guards and inmates infected and testing positive increases.
At this link you can find the account of Nicoletta Dosio on the situation in the prison of Vallette in Turin here [in Italian].
5. Do you have any advice on how to manage – emotionally, psychologically – the fact of having to stay inside all the time? Here it is only the third day and many are still experiencing it almost as though it were a game. What are your reflections after ten days?
The first thing we believe is important is not to allow oneself to be infantilized, but to assume responsibility. Despite the state wanting the former, it is important to understand that this situation concerns us all, our loved ones, and the more vulnerable members of our society both on the social and physical level. Staying inside all the time with this awareness can really notably help our sense of self-discipline. Moreover, moments like these, which people who have experienced house arrests know well, are moments to keep oneself occupied to the utmost. It is almost redundant to say: study, train, reflect. In the end I maintain that it is important to treat it as a kind of “suspended time” when we can finally concentrate on our collective strategies (or the lack of these), also in the light of recent events, without the stress or the lack of time caused by the frenetic pace of our normal daily routines (work, militancy, etc.)
At first it seems like a game, especially for the many of us who have for a long time been trying to flee hyper-productivity. We have found ourselves obviously amused by the hysteria of people, who in the first hours became enraged at supermarkets and shops who sold face masks. Added to this is the sensation of living in an episode of Black Mirror – the streets are empty and the few people on the streets are walking around with masks on.
At first we passed the time reading, discovering things on the internet or having dinners restricted to a small number of friends, where obviously the main theme of discussion was the virus. Slowly as the days passed we began to understand the seriousness of what was happening: people are now all stuck at home and our contact with the outside world has been reduced to three or four people, which is, the people we were always in contact with. Further contact was avoided for good reason, and those with family over a certain age stopped all contact with others. For now, on the emotional and psychological level we keep struggling, perhaps because the Brigades give a practical sense to these days, and also because we are seeing the exasperating effects of the virus on capitalism: people fighting outside supermarkets in queues, or because social distancing is not being kept up, or other kinds of unrestrained egotism.
At this point the question has a global importance and we have the possibility to turn this into a potential and to grow the network we have been building for years, though, on the other hand, power also has this potential. It is not incidental that in these days we have been able to have virtual assemblies with comrades from many different places, where we have been able to discuss the experience of the Brigades.
The idea is that when our methods will have been tested a little we will also be able to go further than just helping out those who need it most. Maybe one day on the streets there will only be the brigades and the police and this could be an interesting scenario. We have to consider however that the state and global capitalism are using this moment as a kind of experiment on a massive scale and we cannot underestimate this; we have to remain attentive and to study the movements of power to try to understand what will happen afterwards. Perhaps certain things could enter into the daily lives of people, for example this question of sociality and work. The experiment that is happening is moving on different levels; from the repression of those who leave the house to “tele-working”, the many working from home. Schools are continuing to conduct courses online, thus in part people at home are being employed to “produce” in a new way.
Further, the virus, being immaterial and invisible, seems insurmountable and so it legitimates the state even more to project a voice that everyone necessarily listens to, keeping us all suspended since no one has any idea when this will end. There is an extreme pressure exerted upon individual responsibility so as to move away from all kind of social tension which might allow a realization of who the real people responsible for this are.
It’s a strange feeling leaving the house alone to go to the supermarket. Even if people don’t talk to one another, many people exchange complicit looks, since we all now have this in common, even if we’ve never known these people as friends, in the sense that they’ve never been this side of the barricade. This should make us reflect. We have to remain immersed in this situation and be strong in order to turn the situation in the right direction when the time comes.
6. Given that protests, demonstrations, and street presence are now impossible, what are ways of maintaining pressure on the authorities, in order to give voice to objections to the discourse that says “let’s save the economy at all costs”?
In this respect the most combative elements have been the militant unions such as SI COBAS (a small communist union operating on the national level), which are also the most directly involved given that, as we said, the majority of factories remain open undisturbed, in flagrant disregard of all the warnings to stay at home. So the voice of opposition has for now been principally represented by strikes, in which however, most of us don’t have the occasion to physically participate. The situation in prisons is different; groups of comrades are trying to get organised even if also here the difficulties are not at all few. After the first wave of protests in prisons, protests are continuing but they have been repressed with impunity, and the main task now is getting news out from inside, and to circulate it as much as possible.
We have to take account of people’s emotional reactions to what is happening, and acknowledge those people who have lost a relative or loved one to the virus. It’s difficult to imagine a movement exploding as yet, in this context. On top of this there is the fact that in Italy over the last years movements have suffered many setbacks and steps backward in terms of confronting power, and there is no united front, nor strong position from which to begin. Everything is very fragmented and so what we manage to bring forwards in struggle is a reflection of this pacification.
One practical example was the 8th of March – the global trans-feminist strike. Already being in the period of the quarantine we had to think what actions people could do. Hundreds of initiatives came about around the city; a new radio program, and many actions, from banners and posters, to writing, to whatever other form of protest which allowed people to feel involved. But nothing that meant direct conflict.
It’s moreover clear that contradictions have emerged; from one side the politicians who have made many gross errors, the public health system which is falling apart (as a result of the cuts over the last years), the fact of the middle class being at home, while delivery workers are in the streets delivering food, Confindustria deciding not to close down production and the larger unions which are playing around, the logistics workers who continue to work without any safety measures, the workers with unprotected faces who are risking their lives; on the other side, the campaign emphasizing individual responsibility of #iorestoacasa (#Istayathome) which is, of course, a way of concealing the truth of the situation.
Anger is coming to the surface, the autonomous unions have begun their strikes and are distributing provisions and masks to those in need, trying to impose a stop on production; the precarious workers have opened disputes in the hope of obtaining an income during the quarantine; and people are making appeals trying to stop online shopping because it puts those people who are making the deliveries at risk. The workers at the Amazon offices in Milan went on strike. As yet it hasn’t been possible to construct a strong position on how to give a positive sense to economic failure. 25 million unemployed people are expected once this is all over, and fear is high. For now it is very difficult but we think that with the work of the brigades it will be possible to construct a strong common position.
7. Have you noticed any new forms of solidarity among generations and in neighborhoods? What’s happening out of town? Do you have any updates from comrades in the countryside?
Our comrades living in the countryside describe a much quieter picture, free from the anxiety about contagion that one feels in the city. It’s easier for people to move around because controls are limited. You can buy food and any kind of “essentials” without difficulty, and farms that are still operating still receive the supplies they need. They’re dealing with labour shortages though.
8. Have there been moments of panic, people fleeing from big cities? Leaving Northern Italy to go south? (We had a huge flow of "bourgeois" migration here. Many people have left to be isolation in more comfortable conditions in their countryside or seaside holiday home – thus threatening remote areas, typically inhabited by the elderly, with the risk of contagion)
Yes, panic broke out on the evening of March 8th. A lot of people took trains from Milan and left Lombardy. All because of leaked news about the government's decision to isolate the region. Obviously, having hundreds of people crammed into a train certainly didn’t help prevent the virus from leaving Lombardy. Sure enough it had the opposite effect, leading to an increasingly higher number of infected people in Southern Italy in the following days. This kind of panic-induced internal migration continued for some days, with such intensity that some Southern regions decided to close their borders. At the beginning many people perceived the quarantine as a holiday, rushing towards ski slopes, beach resorts and second homes.
Yes, as I said, it has been a crescendo. In Northern Italy, for example, the start of quarantine took place when lots of people were on holidays, so many were stuck in the mountains or in their country houses. We witnessed great panic when the government decided to quarantine the whole of Lombardy – creating the so-called “red zone”. When the news came out, there was an exodus. Southern people who work or study in the North traveled back home en masse. This was a totally irresponsible thing to do, insofar as they risked bringing the virus to other areas, especially since young people can be healthy carriers with often no symptoms at all. The sheer selfishness of this gesture brought out all the counter-revolutionary power of the Italian family.
9. How does the contrast between the North and South feel now? Can we say that the tables have turned regarding the famous "Southern question"? Any thoughts?
This is not about the classic, even ironized, North-South opposition. The issue must be considered in relation to the different healthcare systems. Of course, we are not happy that the crisis broke out in the region where we live. Still, Lombardy is the richest region, with the best healthcare system in Italy and probably Europe (despite a succession of administrations cutting its budget). So we can be kind of relieved that it happened here. The Southern healthcare system has many more issues. Some problems are related to the staff, but the biggest issue is the inadequacy of infrastructure. A crisis like the one we’re having in the North would probably have brought the South to its knees.
In the last few days, the number of new patients in other regions – mostly Puglia and Campania, respectively South and Central Italy – has been increasing. We don’t really know how they’re facing the crisis (I mean, whether there is a network of mutual aid organizations and how they work), we’d need to ask people and healthcare personnel in those areas to get a better picture of it.
Some friends and relatives told us they’re very afraid, as though the epidemic had broken out there, as though Bergamo were a Southern city, so they respect the "safety" measures carefully. I don't think we can say the tables have turned on the "Southern question”. Many thought they could get away with leaving the North and going back home as soon as the lockdown was imposed – they proved to be very selfish and harmful to those who had a chance not to be as affected by the epidemic. Because of this grave error we risk having ten Codognos instead of one. People who left the red zones are likely to infect relatives in isolated areas.
There is still a great economic and social divide between the North and the South, we know that pretty well. In Sicily, in Calabria or in Basilicata, people are very aware that hospitals do not have adequate means and tools to face this kind of emergency. As long as people have to stay at home it will be impossible to discuss these issues – we’ll probably have to wait until everything is over.
The North is the new South! Or not. Originally, the North of Italy (great center of production on an international scale) was floored by the epidemic and showed its weaknesses. It became the laughingstock of countries all around the world – nobody accepted tourists or travelers from Northern Italy. A great blow that hurt the pride of the colonizers, who had always been free to roam around the world. For once they found themselves on the ‘not welcome’ list. Obviously the North-South relationship in Italy has changed and become an object of humor. But what is actually very worrying is that the healthcare system in Lombardy, which is despite all one the most efficient in the country, is collapsing. So if the virus were to reach the South, the situation would be truly dramatic.
10. What is the general feeling about what the government is doing? Is it considered partly responsible for the situation, or are its efforts to face the crisis appreciated?
For what our perceptions are worth, the government is generally receiving good support from the people. Prime Minister Conte is considered a wise politician, and the fact that Italy acted immediately and firmly made people forget many doubts they had at the beginning. In fact, until the first weeks of March, most Northern politicians were pressured by business leaders into keeping the borders open and letting Milan run at full capacity. Moreover, the government has taken strong measures concerning healthcare and movement of goods and people, but gave in to the pressure of Confindustria. So big cities are under great restrictions, whereas in the rest of the region industries and businesses, even the non-essential ones, continue their activities adopting only laughable safety measures. No decision has been made on the issue of overcrowded prisons, despite many judges and courts asking for new policies. But people have become more aware of the situation – the current climate of emergency makes everyone more sensitive, even past the issue of hospital capacity. The stern but inspiring campaigns in favor of prisoners have moved many people as well. We should consider in this respect the old nationalist cliché about Italians selflessly coming together during hard times to fight for the community, which has resurfaced in this situation. “Sovereignist” leaders like Salvini and Meloni, surprisingly, are at the moment managing to act under the radar. Their beloved game of finding someone else to blame for every single problem and identifying an enemy cannot be played so easily in times when there are these appeals to unity, so they’re clutching at straws. The feeling is that they’re preparing for the aftermath, when the emergency will be over and we’ll have to rebuild everything from the ground up.
As I said, the situation is controversial. At first the government made some incredible mistakes, and revealed that it wasn’t able to respond to this emergency adequately. We’ve seen this in every crisis that affected the country in the last decades, from the earthquakes in central Italy to the collapse of the Morandi bridge in Genoa. There are many issues we have to deal with, most importantly budget cuts to the healthcare system and the lack of protections for logistics workers. We are talking about people dying here not because they are crushed by a crane, but because they are attacked by a virus, which actually affects everyone without distinction. People are therefore intensely focused on the issue but are “waiting for instructions from above".
Many political collectives have highlighted the link between the capitalist system and the virus, and how it is transmitted. But for the time being, unfortunately, this is all talk, with a kind of academic character, especially given that we can’t even leave our homes.
11. How are people reacting to the plans for generalized digital surveillance (as already implemented in Israel or Iran)? Is it perceived as a "necessary evil"? Are there any ideas to counter these policies? Is the issue being addressed or is the health crisis preventing it?
So far it is not being addressed that much, certainly not at the level of general public opinion. As far as activist groups are concerned, it’s a bit complicated because the debate is now quite mixed up. From the beginning, philosopher Giorgio Agamben focused on the measures relating to the “state of exception”, and their possible consequences. Maybe he did so with a certain smugness and without caring too much about being understood correctly, so he was accused of minimizing the health crisis. The result is that now most of the comrades have slipped into a somewhat sterile debate between supporters and critics of the imposition of the state of exception. The critics accuse the supporters of being too abstract in front of real emergencies such as safety conditions in factories or prisons. As a result, it’s not easy to focus on the whole picture and avoid ideological squabbles.
We can talk about what has been happening in the last weeks. On March 19th, AgCom (national regulatory authorities for Italian communication industries) issued a press release asking social networks like Youtube, Facebook and Twitter to remove videos reporting false information or information from unreliable sources. It is the first time in Italy since 1948 that some fundamental freedoms, such as the freedom of movement, of assembly, and of expression, have been suspended. We will witness the effects of this measure in the upcoming days. The risk is that, the state taking advantage of an "emergency" situation, we could emerge from the catastrophe in much worse cultural conditions than when we entered it.
Personally, I’m very worried about this question. Many people are working from home and online 24/7, and are wondering about the future of our society. We fear that our movements will be GPS-tracked to check who is respecting the quarantine and who is not. On the other hand, many people see this situation as a positive change for the environment – since traffic has slowed, we experienced a significant decrease in air pollution, which is a major issue in Milan. So many now believe that this could also solve other problems. For the time being we need our devices to remain connected, but this situation will certainly have a significant impact on our lives.
12. What’s the general opinion on how other countries are approaching the situation? Were people angry at the thoughtlessness of countries still untouched by the pandemic?
Surely one of the most widespread feelings is disbelief and amazement. Italy had watched from afar the Chinese government dealing with the pandemic, a country that seems far away but is of course not so distant in our globalized world. However, we can’t understand how it is possible that European countries did not act as soon as they sensed what was happening in Italy. The example was there, before everyone's eyes, even sometimes just a few kilometers away. This highlights once again the inadequacy of our leaders as well as our lack of preparation, awareness and independent sources of information.
Anti-European and Eurosceptic feelings are as always resurfacing. Some see the EU as a mindless bloodsucker that refuses to support Italy during this emergency. The best thing is probably the general discredit that people like Trump or Boris Johnson are suffering. In the midst of the crisis, their bullshit now sounds dangerous and crazy even to those who previously admired them as strong and charismatic leaders.
This is significant. We were very angry at first, when we couldn't understand why they kept the information about when the virus first appeared concealed. Many people were disappointed in how Germany and England responded to this emergency. There’s also fear that if the pandemic breaks out in a serious way in the US, a huge number of people will die as a result of the private healthcare system. The only positive news we saw was that Bolsonaro came into contact with someone infected with Covid-19. That could save many more lives! However, at the moment, attention remains focused on our country, with 900 deaths per day and new outbreaks.
13. Can you imagine things on a longer scale? Do you think it’s possible to predict how things will be in the longer term? It almost seems like there will be no return to normality. What do you think will happen in the next few months?
It's hard to say. It’s very difficult to make predictions while all these different newspapers and media throw news at us. It’s hard to reflect while isolated. Everyone knows that the more you stay at home, the less fresh air gets to your head. One day we experience pessimism and the next day hope, or at least you see new chances for some unexpected turn of events. Surely the months to come will be harder and harder. We’ll have to be ready to go out again and see how this situation has changed things. But how they will have changed, as I said, is impossible for us to know.
It's hard to imagine what will happen now because we don't know how long the lockdown will last. The whole world will change for sure. It's also difficult to express “cynical” or critical ideas as many people are very sensitive about the pandemic. Some issues will be affected – the Mediterranean geopolitical scenario, Italy’s alliance with China for the new ‘silk road’ in Africa, the war in Syria that brings millions of migrants to Europe. It is no coincidence that borders are now closed all over the world, this seems to us as well to be a form of experimentation. 10 years ago we were studying the NATO Urban Operations in the Year 2020 report, and now here we are.
An interesting scenario could open up for us. We spent years traveling the world to build networks wherever people tried to confront the government, often getting in trouble with local authorities. Now we are experiencing a worldwide scenario that unites us all, especially in the West. We have the opportunity to create a common model that can apply to many places in the world. Once the emergency is over, that can legitimize us to speak up against those who have created these problems. For the time being, we can’t say what our next steps will be. We know that some activist groups from all over the country are planning to mobilize, inspired by the Volunteer Brigades. In order to create a common trajectory, we will need to connect with this broader viewpoint.
Warnings: Mentions of sex dreams, masturbation, naughty thoughts and implied naked Vincent Stevens.
Rating: 18+
Chapter 5
Vincent groaned into his pillow after glancing at the alarm clock. Three twenty-six in the morning and he was wide awake.
He blamed the dream. Jesus Christ, did he blame the dream.
The same dream he’d had every night since he’d nearly kissed Sam in the conference room. When she had straightened his tie and told him she didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression because he was a rumpled mess.
He rolled onto his back and tossed the covers off. “She’s off-limits, Stevens,” he muttered as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Too good for an asshole like you, you’d only ruin her.”
He slipped out of bed and stalked across the loft to the bathroom. He screwed his eyes shut when he flipped on the light, the sudden brightness burning. “She deserves better.”
Deserves better than a man pushing forty with a history of womanizing and cheating. A man who had been arrested for murder. A man paying dearly in alimony and child support with strict and limited visitation with his children. A man who had fought and struggled and clawed his way back from rock bottom to keep his company afloat.
He squinted his eyes as he opened them, locking onto the shadowed eyes in the mirror. “She’s too young for me anyway,” he sighed heavily before turning toward the shower and turning it on. He adjusted it to the coldest temperature he could stand and stripped out of his blue and grey plaid pajama bottoms. His erection, brought on by the damned erotic dream, throbbed against his abdomen. He glared at it. "Cold showers at three thirty in the god damned morning are not my idea of fun,“ he muttered before stepping into the shower. He bit back a yelp as the stream of cold water hit his skin.
Vincent ducked his head under the icy spray, welcoming the shock and hoping it would kill his raging desire so he would not have to deal with it himself. In the past it never bothered him to jack off in the shower. Back then he hadn’t given a damn. But now?
Now he felt dirty. He felt disgusted any time he had to bring himself to completion after dreaming about making love (not fucking, not screwing, not banging, making slow, sweet love) to Sam in his office or on the damned conference table. But the cold shower was not helping kill the lust. With a growl he soaped up his hands before curling his fingers around his aching manhood and thinking of anyone but Sam. But all he could see was his beautiful, efficient, brilliant assistant reaching up to straighten his damned tie. One hand curling around the tie at his chest, the other sliding up to the knot, her brow furrowed in concentration, full bottom lip trapped in her teeth, big grey eyes shyly meeting his.
Fuck.
Vincent leaned back against the cold ceramic tiles of the shower, swearing a blue streak as he struggled to regain his breath. He reached over and turned the shower off. He stood there a few minutes more before stepping out onto the plush bath mat and grabbing a towel to dry off with. He tossed it angrily toward the hamper as he stalked out of the bathroom.
He grabbed his bottle of bourbon and a tumbler. The drink he poured he knocked back quickly. "Dammit,” he muttered. He poured another drink. With a frown he filled the tumbler nearly to the brim.
Vincent knew bourbon was not the answer to his problem. But he drank it anyway. He chugged the generous glass and poured another to take to bed. As he set the tumbler on the nightstand he glanced at the alarm clock. 3:42. "Hell,“ he muttered. His alarm was set for six, and he was wide awake.
And hungry.
Most men would fall asleep after a damned good orgasm, whether resulting from sex or masturbation. He never did. Maybe it was years of cheating on Barb and not wanting to risk falling asleep and wind up getting busted, maybe he was wired different. But he always wound up hungry.
He made his way back to the kitchen to scope out the contents of the refrigerator and grinned when he saw the takeout container from yesterday’s, no, the day before’s, lunch. Sam had ordered extra Chinese when he’d commented about possibly working late to work on that damned park design he’d been struggling with. "Still struggling with the damned thing, too,” he grabbed the container and popped it in the microwave.
He scrubbed his right hand over his face as he waited for the food to heat up. But he could not get the images from that dream out of his head. Wide grey eyes behind those glasses she always wore. Soft pink blush on her cheeks. Plump kissable lips. Silky dark hair he longed to tunnel his fingers into as he kissed her senseless or marked up her neck. Elegant fingers he wanted to entwine with his as he made slow, sweet love to her. Long legs he wanted wrapped around his hips as he drove into her over and over again.
The tattoo on her shoulder he’d caught a glimpse of months ago. The memory of the sudden desire to touch, to taste washed over him. He knew about the feather tattooed on the inside of her left wrist and the flower tattooed just behind her right ear on her neck. She had told him it was simblemyne from Lord of the Rings when he had asked about it.
“God dammit,” he sighed heavily. He had never had a thing for tattoos on a woman before, hadn’t cared one way or another. But on Sam… Jesus Christ did he want to trace his tongue and fingers over each one. And he wondered if she had more.
He closed his eyes. “Get a grip, Stevens,” he growled. “It’s been a long week already, don’t make it any more difficult.”
He was a tired, cranky mess when he made it to the office a few hours later. Sleep had evaded him when he’d crawled back into bed, even with a full belly and a fourth glass of bourbon. How he wasn’t drunk before eight in the morning was a mystery to him, one he hoped to never have to repeat.
Thank god it was Friday.
Vincent damn near dropped his coffee when he opened the door to the office and spotted his assistant at the window with her back to the door wearing something she had never worn before.
She was dressed in a soft dove grey sweater dress, loose-fitting and hitting at mid-thigh, paired with black tights and knee-high grey boots. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the crown of her head, exposing that damned delectable simblemyne tattoo. He was accustomed to leggings paired with tee-shirts and flowy cardigans or sweaters, or fitted slacks and button-down blouses. But a dress? When he’d overheard her tell Linda she hated dresses?
She turned to face him when he pushed the door shut. “You’re…” She trailed off when she took in the bags under his eyes. “Vincent, are you okay?”
“My turn for a sleepless night,” he gave her a tired grin. “Don’t even think about sending me home, I’ve got to knuckle down on that damned park design if I’m going to present it next week to the city.”
“The one you’ve been struggling with?”
He snorted as he made his way to his office. “Landscaping is not my forte, Sam,” he admitted. “I wanted to branch out and now I’m sorely regretting it.”
“Maybe I could help?”
He stopped in the doorway separating the offices. Did I hear her correctly?
“Or not, don’t listen to me.”
He frowned when he caught the defeated tone in her voice. That’s not the Sam Monroe I know, he thought. “You want to do what I do,” he turned to face her. “You want to become an architect.”
She nodded. “It’s been a longtime dream of mine.”
“You know anything about landscaping?”
“A little,” she shrugged. “I designed a butterfly garden for Mom’s office building and worked with a group on a class project to design a memorial park at the university I attended.”
Vincent walked over to stand beside her. He took her shoulder in his free hand and turned her back to the window. “Remember the city block you pointed out the day I interviewed you?” He dropped his hand when he felt her shudder. Don’t overstep your boundaries, Stevens.
She looked up at him. “Yes.”
“This is no small butterfly garden or memorial park, Sam. This is something for families to enjoy together. Think Central Park, but smaller.”
“I’ve never been to New York,” she admitted quietly.
He gave her an incredulous look. “Next conference I go to in New York, you’re going with me.”
“That’s not necessary,” she shook her head, tearing her eyes from his. “What would I do in New York while you’re attending the conference?”
“Suffer through the boring crap with me, tour the architectural wonders, stroll through Central Park, eat at a five star restaurant and take in a show on Broadway.”
“If the conferences are boring, why bother going?"
"It’s good exposure,” Vincent shrugged. “You learn about new things, new areas of study and certification, new technology for designing blueprints.”
“I don’t see you using computer programs to design buildings,” she wrinkled her nose.
“There’s something magical about drawing up the designs by hand,” he tipped his head toward her. “Computers take the fun out of it. They make the mind weak by taking out all the guesswork and calculating everything for you. Don’t ever rely on those programs, Sam.”
She nodded.
“What’s my schedule like today?" He asked as he headed to his office.
"Site visit after lunch, Jennings Street apartment complex.”
“You ever visit a project site before?”
“No, sir.”
His coffee cup thunked onto his desk.
Sir.
She just had to call him “sir”.
He fumbled to keep the to-go cup from tipping over, inwardly cursing himself at the mental images popping into his head unbidden.
“Vincent?”
“You want to come with me this afternoon?”
He screwed his eyes shut and grimaced at his ill-worded question and husky tone, glad he still had his back to the door.
“I’m hardly dressed for a visit to a construction site.”
“What you’ve got on is fine, Monroe.”
More than fine, his brain added quite unhelpfully. Sexy. Gorgeous. Breathtaking.
“It’s fodder for construction workers,” there was that hesitation in her voice, a tone of self-doubt he’d never heard before.
“You’ll be with me the entire time, Sam, if anyone says anything out of line or looks at you wrong I will take care of it,” he turned to face her. “I won’t tolerate anyone crossing any lines with you.”
Her grey eyes widened behind her glasses. “I could always run home and change during my lunch break…”
“Sweetheart, it won’t matter,” he shook his head. “They’ll stare, they’ll say something, and I promise you they’ll get their asses handed to them.”
“I don’t want to cause any issues–”
He chuckled. “Oh, you will,” he hung up his jacket and dropped into his chair behind the desk. “Woman on a construction site usually does. Don’t let them get to you. Don’t pay them any mind, but if they say something put them in their place and tell me.”
Her brow furrowed. “Okay, but I’d feel more comfortable if I can go home to change.”
He could not argue with her point. “All right. I’m going to start working on that damned design in about fifteen minutes if you want to help.”
Sam smiled, “Thank you, Vincent.”
“I should be thanking you, Sam,” he smiled back.
Vincent looked up from noting a playground on the paper in front of him. “Koi pond?”
She nodded. “Kids love watching koi fish,” she frowned thoughtfully. “The nursing home where my grandpa was has a koi pond in front of the Hollywood wing. When they remodeled the vestibule they put in a section of ‘glass’ floor to watch the fish swim under it,” she hooked her fingers in air quotes. “It’s pretty neat, but they scare the hell out of me. Kenna still teases me about refusing to use the main entrance. Any time I went to see Grampa I had to be buzzed in from the patio.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling and to refrain from reassuring her those floors, if installed correctly, were perfectly safe. “You mentioned designing a butterfly garden earlier. What if we included one in the design?” He studied the rough layout he’d mocked up before sliding his hand along the paper to tap a blank area. “Maybe over here away from the playground.”
Sam caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it as she swiveled on the stool, angling her body toward him. “I was thinking of a pavilion around here, for outdoor weddings,” she murmured before immediately flinching. "If… If that’s okay with you?“
He frowned at the way she flinched like she was expecting to be slapped. "Jot it down,” he slowly reached across her to pick up her discarded pencil. “Sam, your ideas for this park are brilliant. I’ve been procrastinating on this for weeks, and here you’ve bounced several excellent suggestions off of me in…” he glanced at his watch as he straightened from his slouch over the drawing table, “three hours. Let’s take a break for lunch and come back to this after the site visit. How’s that sound?”
She looked up at him. “You really think my ideas are brilliant?”
Oh damn.
That shy smile bowing her lips tugged at his heart.
“No,” he shook his head. “I know they’re brilliant." He tapped the paper. "Make note of the other ideas you mentioned off to the side until we can figure out where to work them in. And for future reference, keep a notebook available to write down any ideas you might get at random times. Trust me, I’ve been in the damned grocery store more than once when a thought would pop into my head. You wouldn’t think a package of chicken breasts would inspire an arched entryway.”
Sam giggled at that as she jotted her ideas down. “And just how did they inspire it?”
He chuckled. “My kids were going to spend the weekend with me. Figured I’d get the ingredients for a couple of their favorite meals. Kinzie, my little girl, likes this chicken breast and asparagus dish. I was standing there, trying to remember what else I needed when it just popped into my head how she’d told me one time she wished her school had arched doorways like a castle does, and I realized that would be better for the preschool design I’d bid on.”
Sam twisted the stool to face Vincent, her eyes wide behind her black-framed glasses. “Please tell me you included a moat and a tower in the design.”
He laughed. “No, I didn’t, If Kinzie had her way it would’ve been an actual castle.”
“She sounds like she takes after you,” she tipped her head toward his Castle Grayskull blueprint on the wall.
“God, I hope she doesn’t,” he sighed heavily.
The last thing he needed was for either of his kids to follow in his damned footsteps.
He shook off that frightening thought before pasting on a tired smile for Sam’s benefit. “I’ll grab us some lunch so you don’t have to rush. Romeo’s sound good?”
“I’ve been wanting to try their cauliflower risotto and parmesan crusted chicken breast,” she nodded. “Would it be too much to ask for cheesecake? Their blackberry swirl cheesecake looks amazing.”
He smiled at the hopeful look in her grey eyes. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “No, that’ll do me, Vin, thank you.”
His heart stuttered in his chest at that shortened version of his name. He watched her walk out of his office.
The Department of Justice announced charges against 25 individuals on Friday who committed fraud using Puerto Rican identities in an effort to gain government benefits and in some cases even vote. 22 of the 25 charged were illegal aliens, many with records of drug dealing, violent crimes, and some previously deported.
Imposters regularly use birth certificates and social security cards stolen or copied from Puerto Ricans to pose as American citizens in order to receive Medicare, evade arrest, and take advantage of welfare benefits such as EBT cards and food stamps. In a sting operation known as, “Operation Double Trouble” the DOJ was able to nab 25 individuals who took advantage of poor oversight at Massachusetts’ Registry of Motor Vehicles and steal people’s identities.
“Across this city and across America, teachers, truck drivers, construction workers are going to work and paying taxes that are being stolen from the public treasury by fraudsters and criminals,” Sessions said at a press conference held earlier this week
“These government programs are intended to help the poor, the elderly, American citizens. Not those that are trespassing in the country,” Sessions added. “This kind of fraud is a theft from our seniors, a theft from our taxpayers, and a theft from the needy, theft from America.”
Illegal aliens often use Puerto Rican identities because the Hispanic surnames are less likely to cause suspicion amongst the government than non-Hispanic surnames. Lapse oversight at the RMV then allows these individuals to gain numerous identities.
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