Something In Particular...? [Eden]

She turned. Maxim had to admit that he hadn’t expected his customer to be a girl. Most people that ventured out in this kind of weather were normally boys that were not concerned with getting their hair wet or messing up their makeup. And yet, there she stood in the middle of his bookshop, staring at him like she was exactly where she wanted to be. It had sounded like she was even humming. ‘Humming in a book store?’ He asked himself, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes, ’No respect for the written word.’ Sure, his thoughts were a little harsh, but that was the way that Maxim had been lately. He sighed slightly and then moved from his comfortable position on the door frame. He slowly walked from behind the desk and then toward the bookshelf that she was standing in front of. He reached up and tapped the edge of the bookshelf, drawing her attention to the sign that was there.

It clearly read ‘History of Magic.’ Then he moved a few steps back and hit the top of the next bookshelf where it read ‘Charms.’ And finally one more bookshelf backwards and he found himself pointing at the sign that said ‘Magical Creatures and Other Anomalies.’ Slowly he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say next. Should he offer her more assistance? Ask her another question? Offer his own personal booklist? He rolled his eyes at his last thought. Most people that came into the store came in simply looking, saying that prices were too expensive and then leaving without another thought. But this girl, this girl had obviously seen the prices and continued to browse which was...interesting, ”Shouldn’t you have done your school book shopping when you were at home?” He muttered under his breath. Sure, the students added an interesting dynamic to his day, but what did this girl really want? Was she just hanging around the book store to personally torment him? Max managed to get his thoughts under control, realizing that he was probably just suffering from some effects of the upcoming full moon, ”What kind of magical creatures?” Maxim finally asked, folding his arms across his chest in his characteristic gesture.

Maxim watched her very carefully, trying to figure out what she was up to. It almost seemed as if she was trying to gather her thoughts, to figure out what was really going on in her head. His own head tilted slightly to the side as he waited for her to say something. Waited for her to give him an answer. And then the answer came and Max wished all of a sudden that he had just kicked her out from the moment that she set foot into his shop. Lycanthropy. The one word in the entire world that he hated more than anything. It was the bane of his existence. It was the reason that he holed up in this damned shop for days at a time, looking no one in the eye. It was what had caused him so much pain and destroyed his family all together. His face instinctively hardened the longer that he looked at her, but it appeared as if she was no longer paying him any attention. She had gone back to rummaging through the shelves and picking up the books that she wanted.

Instead of lashing out at her and telling her to leave the shop immediately, Max managed to hold it together. He crossed the room toward the desk and ran his hand down his face in exasperation. Of course the first customer that he had had in months wanted to buy the only books in his shop that he hated. ’At least they’ll be out of your way, Max,’ He thought to himself as he stood there, staring at the wall. It was then that she crossed the room and held out the change for him. He stared at her for a long time before accepting it.

He pushed a button on his old school cash register and then looked up at her, ”You should be careful what you read in there.” He said, practically through his teeth. He wasn’t sure why he was warning her. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want a girl like her getting mixed up in the mess that was werewolf-ism. She shouldn’t be interested in stuff like that...because it was stuff like that that could get her killed, ”Those books are written by people who don’t know what they’re talking about.” He narrowed his eyes at the titles and then pushed the books across the desk toward the girl, then placed the money on the counter instead of into the register, ”I can show you books that are written from first hand accounts.” He muttered and then walked back toward the bookshelf, pulling out a few titles that he himself had read and found more interesting, ”What’s your name anyway?” He practically blurted.

Max was already well on his way toward the shelf by the time that she started to explain herself, but he listened intently even though his hands were shuffling through the titles on the shelf. His fingertips grazed over the bindings of some of the books, not bothering to pull them out because he already knew that they weren’t what she was looking for, ”No one should seek them out.” Maxim interjected into her words. He didn’t think that anyone should have to see the awful transition. See the pain that they went through and then be left completely wide open for destruction. Werewolves were dangerous creatures. Dangerous and unnatural. These were the moments that he wished that he wasn’t what he was. He wished that he was normal. He growled low and then pulled a book off of the shelf. He flipped open the first page and stared at the table of contents.

”Maybe they’re not being forced to hide. Maybe they’re staying out of everyone’s ways so that they don’t hurt anyone.” He said as he slammed the cover of the book shut. He held it out in the girl’s direction, motioning for her to take it from him so that he could go back to scanning the shelves. She said that she wanted to learn the truth and Maxim almost laughed - almost because he hadn’t laughed in many years. He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be happy, ”I think it’s very strange, what you think.” He answered honestly, not sure what to make of her. She was certainly a strange being. Most girls would run in the opposite direction of Lycanthropy and the ideas that surrounded - most sane people in general would. But here she was, attempting to figure out as much as she could about it. And that’s when the thought crossed his mind. Could she possibly know that he was what she was reading about? ‘There’s no way...’ Max thought to himself. Sure, the girl seemed perceptive, but they had only just met...right?

He forgot what he had asked her by the time that she smiled at him, so he was caught a little off guard by the gesture. Instead of returning her gesture, he simply furrowed his brows as he stared at her. Eden Wolf. It was a pretty name, fitting, he thought to himself. He turned back to the shelf. Merlin only knew if he would ever see this girl again and she was already offering up a nickname? ”Luna it is, then,” He felt the corners of his lips tug upwards for a moment, and realized that had almost made him want to smile. Briskly, he pushed the thoughts away from his mind so that he wouldn’t be distracted, ”I’m Maxim. Maxim Petrov.”

American. Maxim was surprised that he hadn’t picked up on her accent sooner. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that he had an accent too and tended not to notice other people’s anymore. He was Russian. He was used to hearing people talk and it sounding different to him. He had just assumed that her accent was a British one that he was unfamiliar with. He watched her carefully, the way that she ran her hands over the binding of the book, as if she was truly interested in what those dusty old pages held. ‘Interesting...’ He thought as he leaned back slightly against the bookshelf that was behind him, ”I’ve never been across the pond.” Maxim said honestly as he folded his arms across his chest yet again. He furrowed his brow slightly, trying to grasp what she was saying, ”Maybe you shouldn’t catch up. Your ignorance is...refreshing.” Maxim meant for it to sound like a compliment, but he wasn’t sure that it came out that way. He had never had a good bearing when it came to using his words.

He had never really thought about it....Perhaps she was right? Maybe intolerance didn’t stretch across the countries like he thought. He knew for certain that Russia was just as intolerant about the muggle-borns and werewolves and other magical anomalies that roamed around the world...after all, that was part of the reason that he had been attacked all those years ago, ”I understand the not being from around here thing, born and bred Russian.” He said, referring to his accent and nationality. His brow seemed to furrow even deeper the more that he stood there staring at her. Then he moved his blue eyes away from her face and they settled on the shelf that was behind her, ”I still don’t think everyone needs friends.” He muttered and moved past her so that he could return to his post behind his desk. He sat down on the stool that was behind it and leaned forward so that his head was in his hands.

And then she started speaking again and he raised his head so that he could see her. She was so blissfully innocent. It seemed as if she truly believed what she was saying. When Max looked in the mirror, he saw nothing of the sort. He saw a man that was disgusting to him. A man that didn’t save his parents. Didn’t save his family. He saw disgrace and danger. He saw a werewolf...not a man, ”Loneliness is my constant companion. It appears as if you’ve hit that one right on the head.” He muttered, unsure of why he was telling her this. He should have just asked her to leave. His eyes flashed dangerously for a moment, but he managed to reign in the anger that was trying to escape. He leaned backwards so that he was no longer leaning on the desk, ”It doesn’t matter. Pain and suffering is a part of life.” That was his final conclusion. He knew that he spent too much of his time dwelling on his self-hatred, but he couldn’t get past it. He knew that he couldn’t. That was just the way that his life was meant to be.

Max tensed as he realized that she had drawn closer. He wasn’t sure if he should look at her or look away, but for a moment, he felt as if he was frozen in time. Finally, his eyes met hers, grey meeting blue, and he felt something in his chest cavity stir. For a moment, he felt human. He felt as if he was just another guy having a conversation...or, at this point, silence...with another girl. He was going to say something about her being a little too close, but it seemed as if she was already ready to speak. And when she began, Max was all but in a state of shock. She was speaking Russian. Fluent Russian, for that matter. He felt his mouth fall open slightly in surprise, but managed to gain control and slam it shut within a matter of moments. He could only hope that he hadn’t looked too surprised.

She stated firmly that she would like to be his friend. Max wasn’t sure what to make of the whole ordeal. Was she honestly asking to be friends with a bloody werewolf? Sure, she might not have known what he was, but he was dangerous...he knew for a fact that he put off a dangerous aura. And yet, here she sat. Trying to befriend the dangerous beast that was in front of her. He listened to her closely, still trying to collect his thoughts, and still failing miserably. It seemed as if she wanted to be friends. The longer that Max thought about it, the more that he realized that it would be nice to have someone to talk to during the day. Someone that he didn’t feel like he could hide from. Of course, he knew that he would never trust her fully with his secret...he would never put anyone at risk like that. But he could at least offer her a chance, couldn’t he?

His mouth was dry by the time that he managed to speak and break the silence that had settled between them, ”Miss. Wolf-” Max paused for a moment, realizing the very irony of her last name, ”Do you want some-” Max paused, synching his eyebrows together as he tried to get the words to form in his head so that he could speak them, ”Would you like some hot cocoa or something...?” Once more, he ran his hand down his face, his fingers lingering on his neck where he could feel part of the scar. But he chose to ignore it for the moment. Slowly he stood up from his chair and gestured toward the back room. He wasn’t sure if she would follow, but he pressed forward and walked back.

Immediately, he realized what a mistake it had been. The back room of the shop was basically his living quarters and at the moment, it looked as if a small bomb had gone off and all but destroyed the room. He groaned slightly and threw some of his papers off of the table that was in the middle of the room. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to impress. Then he gestured to a seat and he grabbed the kettle that had been on the stove-top. He pulled two mugs, sat them down on the table and poured the hot liquid into them. Max returned the kettle and then slid one of the mugs toward Eden. Then he sat down, saying nothing. He wasn’t sure how to even start to befriend someone, so he was hoping that she had other ideas.

Max shifted the mug toward her, offering her the cocoa that he had just poured. He had been thankful that he had chosen correctly; he didn’t want to waste a cup full of hot chocolate. She was right about the weather, too. It was stiff and chilly outside, made Max want to curl up and go to sleep for a very long time. Maybe even until after the next full moon. He felt his lips curl up in what appeared to resemble a smile of sorts, ”I guess it’s not hard to figure out, with the accent and all.” He had tried to get rid of his accent by copying the way that the Brits spoke, but he had never quite mastered it. Even now, his accent was still a strange mix of Russian and Scottish, as it were. It was almost embarrassing, the fact that he had wanted to get rid of his accent in the first place, but he had wanted to get rid of everything that reminded him of home...everything that reminded him of his parents, ”The alphabet’s a little wonky. Understandable that it took you so long.” He said quietly and then lifted his mug to his lips. He took a rather large swig, almost thankful that the cocoa seared his throat as it went down.

Max listened to her carefully and couldn’t help but smirk slightly as she apologized for talking to much. She did indeed have quite the chatter-box on her, but he was almost thankful for her filling up the silence. Normally he just sat and watched out the window until it grew too dark to see, then he retired for the evening and started the entire process over again. It had been a long time since he had actually had a civil conversation with someone - apparently just like her. She explained that she was a Hogwarts student and he realized that he had probably seen her many times before around Hogsmeade. It was possible that they had even seen each other within the shop; yet he couldn’t seen to remember a time when they had actually met.

”What do your parents do?” He asked, knowing that he should tread lightly on the subject of parents. He didn’t want her to ask the same question back to him; he wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain his situation to her...and it’s not like he wanted to anyways. He was perfectly content to suffer silently - or at least, that was what he told himself. But he also knew that he wanted to know why they didn’t have enough time to spend with her. She seemed like a brilliant young woman, someone that parents really could be proud of.