Warring Logics *COMPLETE* (Book 1 of The Institute of Fantasiological Studies)

The one with at his place (Chapter 24)

I may have spent the last 24 hours panicking. No not about my hot date with my vampire beloved, but about writing a paper in under two months. I just—I can't, I've never done it before.

This is still what is on my mind when I ring the doorbell to Max's apartment. I barely noticed the modern multi-floor building made of sleek grey stone and large windows. It's the only modern building on a street filled with beautiful late 19th-century Wilhelminen buildings sprinkled with the unimaginative eyesores that were built after the war.

Waiting for Max to answer, I finally glance around me. It's only a couple of blocks from the coven house, which I guess is convenient for him. A nice area really, probably even prettier in the summer when the few trees that lined the street had leaves. As it were, it looked a little lifeless with so few people around.

As I think this, a figure moves down the street. It's hard to see clearly in the blurry fog that is dusk, but it looks a little like Albert. The figure turns the corner and I mentally scold myself. Sadly, I miss Albert so much that I see him on the streets.

"Come in" Max's masculine voice sounds robotic over the intercom. A loud buzzing noise lets me know the door is open and I waltz in.

Max, as the primus he is, owns the penthouse apartment which meant I had to crawl up five flights of stairs. Why would anyone knowingly do this to themselves? My own apartment is on the second floor; I get the exercise of stairs without killing myself every time I returned home.

But at the top of the stairs was a smiling Max standing in the open door, the smell of cooking food flooding the stairwell. I can't help but look him up and down. He's wearing dark jeans and a white collars shirt under a blue sweater. It's like he looked up how to look domesticated online.

"Alexis!" A grin spreads on his face showing off his white teeth and fangs.

"Max" I reply, but it comes out flatter than I hoped. I already feel under pressure from his enthusiasm.

"Come in, take off your coat, and grab a seat at the table. We're having chicken parmesan"

I step in as Max closes the door and walks back to his cooking.

His flat is beyond beautiful, modern, with large open windows facing the Frankfurt skyscrapers. To the left was a living room with white couches and a thick rug. A large open kitchen sits on one side of the room with what looks like marble countertops and white cabinetry. A long wooden dining table with eight cushioned seats and a modern glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling above it. It's all clean lines and it belongs in a magazine. It's also boring- I mean does he actually live here in this showroom of an apartment?

My coffee table had ring marks a week after I bought it.

"I know it's a little small, but as a bachelor, it's all I ever needed" I look over at Max who is talking while pulling something out of the oven.

I take off my coat and hang in on the coat hanger, "It's beautiful, I can never invite you to my place now"

He twists towards me with a large smile, "you were going to invite me to your place?"

Well, no. "I'm certainly not going to now" I tease. I walk over to the table where place settings are already set out and take a seat that faces him in the kitchen.

He bends over to grab something else from the oven and I use the occasion to admire his firm butt. Men cooking are supposed to be sexy, right?

"Red or white?"

It is then that I realize I had been staring and not listening to whatever Max was saying. "Sorry?"

"Red or white wine?"

"Oh um, white" I reply as I squirm on the cushioned seat. I can't believe I'm already embarrassing myself.

"Cautious after what happened at the coven party?" He teases

Not knowing what to say, I just hum in response.

I watch him pour two glasses of white wine and bring them over to the table before going back to grab two large plates. He sets the plates on the table and my mouth waters. The food also looks like it came out of a magazine- the perfect chicken parmesan with a side of spaghetti twisted into a little cute knot on the side with a few sprigs of fresh herbs. Yup, I am definitely never inviting him to my place.

I look over to his plate, "It looks great!" I smile, "but do you still eat even though you don't need to?"

"I was human once, it's a hard thing to give up" he explains as he takes his first bite, "It's like your mind thinks you are starving but your body knows better"

"Sounds... uncomfortable" I take a sip of wine, it's bland- probably a chardonnay or something, expensive if I had to guess.

We fall into an uncomfortable silence as cutlery scrapes the plate. I try to rack my brain but there is simply nothing important I can think of to say to him. So instead we begin to chatter about useless things until we finish.

After dinner we move over to the couch in the living room, sitting far too close for my comfort. His leg brushes against mine as he sets his glass of wine on the coffee table. He smells like cologne, just the right amount too. As he leans back on the couch it's like he managed to sit even closer.

I discretely check out the clock on the wall, how soon after dinner can you leave?

"So... Alexis" he begins.

"Yes?" I face him allowing myself to pull away just a bit.

"In terms of... well, timing. Did you have something in mind?"

"Timing?" What the hell is he talking about?

"Yes, uh, how long until we uh... find out if you are my beloved"

"Oh"

He leans closer and trails his nose down my cheek, taking a deep inhale when he reaches my neck.

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Happy reading!

Heather