The Mayor, the Witch, and the Lumberjack - Part 7

Instructions

Louis was nervous. For once, he didn’t have a reason. But the way his sharp nails clicked on his desk was a telltale sign. If that wasn’t enough, the piles of unsigned paperwork were another obvious hint. His eyes kept darting towards the door, as though something would burst in at any moment and shove a stake through his heart. He fiddled anxiously with his shirt collar, forcing his gaze out the window. He rubbed his temples. What was up with him today? Maybe Varona was right, and he was just more paranoid than normal. But was that so bad? He was a creature of the night, leading a very anti-pagan town. How he’d ended up in this situation, he’d never know. The sound of knuckles rapping on his office door caused his panic to spike again. He flinched in his chair so fiercely that he almost fell backward. He shot his gaze to the door before forcing in a calm breath. “Come in,” Louis called simply. He nonchalantly rested his arm across the unsigned paper in front of him. No one in town needed to know how out of it he was. As the door creaked open, he swore that his heart leaped into his throat. Why was he here? “H-hi, Louis.” Owen smiled nervously, waving to the mayor as he entered the room. Louis stared for a few moments, dumbfounded, before leaping up with a giant grin on his face. “Owen!” He strode over to his friend, pausing a few inches in front of him. “Why’re you…?” He quickly noticed the door was open and shut it. Owen shifted, gesturing to the chairs. They were purposefully far from the door–Louis hated eavesdroppers. “Varona invited me over.” “Oh, did she now…” Annoyed more than ever at his little sister, the mayor nodded. He gingerly took his hand and led him away from the door. He felt Owen’s muscles tighten for a few moments, but purposefully looked over it. The two sat across from each other, the exact way they had for the past five months. But this time was different. This time, there was real, genuine hope. “Did the spell work?” Louis smiled hopefully, his brow creasing. He didn’t know what to expect. Varona had said a week, but it was only the fourth day. Owen looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. That’s when Louis noticed the linen was still wrapped over his hands. Quietly, his face fell as he sighed. “Owen, I’m so sorry… I really thought it would work.” “I- It’s fine.” Owen miserably shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting it to…” “Varona’s a good witch–she is. But… I guess she’s not the greatest.” There was a short pause. Owen’s jaw slowly worked. “It… wasn’t Varona’s fault.” Louis tilted his head at that. Owen glanced back at him, crossing his arms as he grew uncomfortable. “It was mine. Of course it was, this isn’t a surprise to anyone. But I just… couldn’t get you out of my head.” The shadow of a smile appeared on his face as their eyes met. Neither of them could tell how long they looked at each other. Louis’s fidgeting died down, and he ended with his hands resting in his lap. Owen’s tense posture slowly softened, and his smile became more defined. Oh, how terribly bad Louis wanted to spend an eternity looking at that man’s face. ‘Shoot!’ He blinked out of the trance, placing a hand over his mouth. ‘Shoot, shoot… The deal… *NOW*?!’ Owen shook himself out of it as Louis reacted. “You alright?” “Y-yeah! Yes! Yep! Absolutely!” In no way did he sound alright. “I just… I made a deal with Varona about something… And now I’m wondering how the heck I’m gonna keep my end of it.” He laughed nervously, fiddling with his shirt collar again as he failed to meet Owen’s eyes. The lumberjack’s gaze narrowed, calculating. “Was it something to do with me?” “No!” Louis was quick to assure. “Well… Yes, it did involve *you*, but not about the spell or anything. It’s more about… *me*...” Why did this have to feel so difficult? Owen didn’t speak. He watched Louis carefully, letting him think through what he had to say. The mayor flexed his hands. His sharp nails dug into his palm a little. He focused on breathing steadily–in through the nose, out through the mouth. He tried to meet Owen’s eyes again, but the steady pounding of Owen’s heartbeat echoed through Louis’s skull. He flinched away, closing his eyes tight as his tongue instinctively swiped over his teeth. Owen’s brow creased in concern, but he still didn’t speak. Louis took in a few more breaths before forcing a sound out. He started slowly. “I haven’t been entirely… *transparent* with you.” He observed the lumberjack’s reactions cautiously. Owen was still sitting, still watching Louis, still listening. “I just didn’t know what you’d think, and I… I didn’t want you to hate me.” “Louis… I could never hate you.”