Inkling

12.2 Candlelight and Secrets

12:30 A.M.

He was more beautiful in the candlelight than he had any right to be. Max did not remember how they got back to the Dragon, but he found himself in Lane's room. He sat on the floor in a way which suggested someone had unceremoniously dumped him there. Max did not mind, mainly because his mind was floating in another universe, but also because everyone was yelling and, as it turned out, they were yelling about him. But Max did not care, because the candles cast a shadow across Lincoln's face, and the light caught in the snow still clinging to his hair and Max found himself terribly distracted.

"Yes, but what did you do?" Lincoln said exasperatedly.

"It will wear off," Lane repeated in exactly the same tone. Max laughed from his place on the floor, not because he quite understood the words, but because he understood this particular shade of annoyance.

"Max," Sophia knelt in front of him, "Max, just go to sleep."

Perhaps she meant on the bed, but Max simply nodded at this idea and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

Some time later Max woke to find everyone in the room asleep except for Lincoln. Sophia, Lane, and Daisy slept on the bed and Adam had spread himself out in front of the door in the manner of a watchdog. Lincoln, however, sat next to Max, and Max realized his staring is what had woken him.

"What happened to Daly?" Max croaked, finding himself with a massive headache and a bit of dizziness. Alcohol had nothing on magic when it came to after effects. Lincoln's eyes widened a bit, but through the haze of Max's mind it did not register.

"I may throw up," Max said, cutting off whatever Lincoln had intended to say.

"If you throw up on me I will not hesitate to turn you into a frog, Max."

Max snorted, Lincoln hardly cracked a smile. Something was wrong but Max did not know how to ask. He did not know how to ask about the thoughts racing behind Lincoln's eyes, like he knew something Max did not. The lag in his brain finally caught up with the situation and the room stopped spinning all at once.

"What are you thinking about?" Max asked, his head sliding from side to side against the wall. It felt ever so heavy, like he had a few boulders rolling around in his skull.

"What do you mean?" Lincoln asked back and Max rolled his eyes.

"Ain't much you can misunderstand about that question."

"I am thinking about a great many things at any given time," Lincoln said, his eyes focused on something far away. Max snorted at this, shaking his head a bit.

"You're full to your eyeballs in bullshit. Todo aquí -" Max gestured to Lincoln in general "- es caquita de vaquita. Sabes?" He knew Lincoln did not, in fact, understand, but it felt more true in Spanish.

"What are you saying?" Lincoln asked through a yawn but Max did not answer, he had caught Lincoln's tired and could already feel his eyelids drooping. The boulders in his skull rolled to the other side of his head and Max's head careened toward Lincoln. He was asleep in seconds and any worry that had consumed him moments before was swept away in the darkness.