Opened Eyes and Yellow Bellies

Why she had waited on that particular hand in this uncomfortable poker game, Jack did not know. It was the card that had made every hand before seem like a bluff, and if she could figure out exactly how good the hand was. The sweet-faced woman from Mungo's could easily explain everything away. It would make sense that Max would choose Jack to marry, since he couldn't marry the woman in the bed. Jack was the complete opposite, surely, so what risk would be there? The woman had a face devoid of worry, feminine features, a weak aura. Jack was wrinkling prematurely with stress, had worn a dress three times in her life, and refused to sit in hospital beds. Jack was safe. Once the angel could get out of bed and meet her placeholder, she would know that she had no danger of losing Max.

Had he ever been in danger of... what? Actually falling for her? Well, no. Of course not. They had done this out of platonic need, of course. Falling had never been in the cards. So it's not like the woman had anything to worry about anyway, right?

Why was she feeling so angry?

She hadn't considered it following. It hadn't been, of course. But she could understand how she probably needed to explain further before she got mad at Max for jumping to conclusions. She opened her mouth, but he pressed on and she promptly clamped her jaw shut. Never before had Max spoken to her like this. Anger flared, but it was righteous. She had no problem unloading on a Max that would fight back. She could up her game.

"I wasn't following you," she snapped. "Sunny told me you were in the hospital so I went to see if you were okay - because that's what friends do. If you could have just told me seeing as we have to coordinate schedules anyway, there wouldn't be an issue." She shifted her weight, dropping her arms. She moved across the room, searching her desk for the leather folder that held all of her paperwork she liked to work on before bed. As she searched for her pen, which seemed to have disappeared she said, "I just thought your girlfriend might be an important thing for me to know about, you know? Then I wouldn't be fooling myself that-"

Oh shit. Fooling herself of what? She had no idea. No idea. Abort. She continued in vain search for the pen, eager to drop what had just been said. "Where's my f*cking pen?!"

Max felt a full-on internal groan arise. Of course Sunny had told her where he was going. The twinge of annoyance towards the young girl caught him off guard and he made internal amends, reminding himself that it was his fault for telling her in the first place and he hadn't made any specific requests not to say thing anything. He hadn't considered the consequences of relaying his destination because the act was so routine he had long ago pushed from his mind that it was a sneaky errand. Despite the careful schedule shifts and blatantly leaving out the end of his day whenever Jack asked him, he had never thought of visiting Daisy as 'secret'. But it had been. And he was suddenly upset with himself for it.

"I don't need to tell you everything." He reminded her, voice hovering on unsteady, tone still edging towards true anger. "It's not like you're my -" Max stopped in his tracks, hoping with everything he had that Jack had been too preoccupied with collecting her paperwork to bother hearing him. She wasn't what? Until this morning she had been his wife and until she had handed him the papers he would have readily said that yes, of course that meant they were in it together. But she had signed first and suddenly he wasn't so sure.

It was deflating. The whole argument, his anger, their situation, it was pulling the energy out of Max. In some ways it was almost impressive the way Jack flared up like an angry peacock when she felt threatened. Her angry questions and accusing tone only seemed to add fuel to her fire while even the suggestion of raising his own voice was already trying to push him back into a curled ball.

Several seconds longer than was comfortable Max seemed to finish his earlier thought. "Girlfriend." He looked across the bed as the realization hit him full force. "You said girlfriend." Max's eyebrows began to raising considerably as he processed the unexpected outburst. "Wow, okay. That's not it at all. Why on Earth would you -? I mean, yeah, a long time ago. But it doesn't even matter. Why-?"

Max found himself shaking his head slightly as he began to open his book again. Before it was even half way open he found his second wind and turned back to where Jack stood. "You're being quite ridiculous, you know. I never forgot to pick Sunny up or even came home late and you're acting like.. like I was neglecting the family or was having an affair or something." Of course, to actually have an affair they would have needed to be together, but somehow that felt outside the point. Max knew he should have told her and somehow his words being lies made them a little bit easier to say.

Her head turned sharply as he began the sentence, "It's not like you're my -", her eyes glinting dangerously. After all, it had been his idea to add the title of husband and wife to their lease. That had not been her invention at all. So if he was going to mock her for treating them as such... well, Max knew she was not one to back down from a fight when she felt like someone else was asking for it. She reminded herself to breathe, that she still had no right to hold him to the title. They spent most of their time downplaying the titles anyway, so it wasn't logical to suddenly swear by it.

The words were out and still no pen. Her mind rushed to focus on the pen problem, to channel her anger and energies into finding the pen, as that was the problem least likely to reveal how foolish and idiotic and hopeless she felt. She abandoned the idea that the pen was at the desk and walked over to her dresser, beginning to search through those drawers.

Max's words pounded on her, and she felt her anger flare and her heart pound as he confirmed that the woman had been something to him at some point. Because that was more assurance that she had ever gotten.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He continued to speak and she continued to tear open drawers in vain, the lost pen having rolled under her desk where she would not be looking. She felt her passions rising with every word he said, mocking her for having ever thought she had any right to care more than... more than an ex-wife. And with that new title in mind, she wheeled around, looking furious. Every word she spoke fell in anger, because if she spoke with true sincerity right now she would probably implode. "Well, I'm f*cking sorry. I just feel like a right git. Do you know why I came looking for you? I was going to ask if we could just ignore the stupid repeal and keep doing what we were doing - stay married. But apparently, it's not like I'm your wife anyway. So whatever. Happy divorce day!"

Over his lifetime, Maximus Morrison had done his fair share of staring in utter amazement. He had really perfected the expression - mouth hanging open, eyes like a deer in the headlights, and his entire body leaning physically away from whatever stood before him. It was quite possible that through all of his shocking moments Max had never looked quite as bewildered as he did in the aftermath of Jack's outburst. It was Max's best natural defense - look like a hurt, confused puppy and four of of five people were likely to just give up and walk the other way. But while his skill laid in the art of being a possum, Jack's lay in screaming.

Again, it is necessary to make a note that Max really did find some small sliver of majesty among her shouts but his wonder at her anger was mostly overshadowed by complete and utter terror that it was directed at him. Oops.

In the tradition of almost every confrontation Max had ever had, his brain chose this moment to more or less deactivate. He stared wide eyed at the woman who stood in front of him. What had she said? A single blink. She was going to ask him to.. stay married? That didn't make any sense. It deconstructed the entire narrative he had come to accept about her trying to cut ties and run. She had.. wanted to stay? There was a prolonged silence and Max's slack mouth made no motion to move. Slowly Max's foggy brain raised a question - what had changed her mind? Somehow seeing him with Daisy.. But that made no sense.

Finally, Max spoke in a voice unexpectedly clear and calm. He pointed to the ground. "Pen."

She had not really... realized what she was saying. She had just panicked and yelled her feelings, because that was the problem with the Dyllan-Morrisons - no one wanted to admit the feelings that were floating around. And she was irritated that it had to be her that started talking feelings, the one who was a self-proclaimed emotional infant. She spent most of her time beating up bad guys, not talking about her feelings. She had no experience with this and it was utter bullshit that she had to say it first.

But she had said it.

It was out there.

She wanted to stay married to Max Morrison.

Now, maybe she did not necessarily want to be married - she wasn't sure she was ready to sincerely go from flatmate to wife. But she didn't want to take away that special feeling she was allowed to have towards Max. She was allowed to be protective of him, allowed to be fond, allowed to be comfortable. And she wasn't in much of a rush to take all of that away just because the Ministry was done being foolish. She wanted to be foolish a little bit longer.

Her eyes followed Max's finger and she nodded numbly, walking over to the pen. She stooped and picked it up, head pounding. She had her folder, she had her pen. Okay. Time to go to bed. Time to go slip into the bed next to Max. That meant her feet should be moving now... Any minute now. Okay, this was ridiculous.

She finally got her feet going and she sat on the foot of the bed, but could not will herself to get any closer than that - it was feeling a lot like their first night sharing a bed. She opened the folder, and the paged fell open to a page on werewolf policy reform she had been tinkering with. She put the pen to the page but could not move more than that.

And with the quietest groan, she bent over the paper, her head falling onto the folder in her lap. She had given up. He knew it. She knew it.

She was probably in love with Max Morrison.

The sudden quiet was all the more startling in contrast to Jack's yelling only seconds before. She looked like he felt, a deflated balloon losing the last of her hot air as she bent down to pick up her pen. Jack gathered her paperwork and paused for a moment before plopping down at the end of the bed with her back to him. From the first few nights that they had spent together, the pair had fallen into a comfortable routine with their nighttime activities. While Max preferred to do his work right after dinner, Jack almost always chose to wait until they were settled side by side to make notes and corrections all all manner of business. As she scribbled he read and they would both sit up until one reminded the other of the hour and lights would go off.

Everything had been so uncomfortable that first night. Even the second had been a little strange. But by the end of the week it almost felt natural that the pair of them should be sleeping side by side in relative harmony (besides the kicking). The pattern seemed to be reversing now with a night of extreme discomfort that would soon be leading to separate rooms. Like some couples, the bedroom was the core and essence of Jack and Max's marriage, just never in the traditional sense.

Max couldn't help but start at the back of Jack's head. He was just beginning to wonder if she was really going to do her work as far away as was humanly possible from him when her head fell to her lap. Jack appeared to be forming a literal ball (Max would know - he had done so on numerous occasions himself).

"Jack?" He called, his voice timid enough that it barely carried across the distance of the mattress. Max had a sudden urge to move to her but he felt enormously weighed down by the layers of blankets and book that sat on his lap. It wasn't a little scooch to reach her.. it would take a commitment, a terrifyingly open walk around the bed that couldn't be brushed off and ignored. Truthfully, Max was a little confused at what was currently happening. His brain still reeled from the brief argument and now Jack sat in front of him looking more vulnerable than he could ever remember seeing her before. And because of what? Max hadn't quite pieced that part together yet.

It was the curve of her back that did it. The figure collapsed in on herself in a way that he could never had imagined his roommate. While it was undeniable that Max was a coward in more ways than one he was also one of the truest Hufflepuffs who had ever emerged from Hogwarts. If it had been anyone else breaking down he would have been beside them in an instant but the fact that it was Jack made his desire to help intimately stronger and more difficult. Taking a breath, Max placed his book beside him on the bed and slipped out of the sheets. His sock-clad toes patted across the floor and to the foot of the bed where he silently sat down next to his (ex) wife.

He hadn't planned this far. Now what? Max did the only thing he could think of - gently reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder in some uneasy attempt to comfort.

She wanted to say there was something prolific and revealing going through her mind as she collapsed against the folder, but her mind seemed to be devoid of all thought, prolific or otherwise. She was simply trying to keep her eyes closed long enough in the silence to convince herself that what she had said had not meant what it sounded like she meant. Maybe he would have misheard. Maybe he would brush it off. Maybe he would let her be until she turned and saw that he was falling asleep. Then she could curl up on her side, turn out the lights, and pretend that none of this had ever happened.

But another part of her chimed in. She didn't want to go to sleep and pretend this conversation had not happened, unless she could pretend the whole day hadn't happened. If this conversation had not happened, the next night would be certainly be lonely, and Max would have thought she was perfectly content to be in her big, cold bed. Their lives would have split and they would have never realized that maybe their was another option...

Not like he was actually considering it. Considering her. She knew that. She knew what she was, and it wasn't real marriage material. She was dangerous, she was flighty, she was cranky. She couldn't make him nice food, she couldn't keep her house clean, she couldn't even give him children - not that she was thinking that far ahead. No, no, no... She didn't have any plans for them. She knew she had no right. But she really had not planned on things changed.

But she did not lift her head, because she could not pretend she was not at home, having just admitted how foolishly her thoughts had strayed.

The pause was long, and her humiliation was deep. But she felt movement and suddenly her roommate was next to her. A hand flitted to her shoulder and she heaved a sigh, willing herself to sit up - which she did. She tilted her head and drew in a long breath, staring forward. "Max..." She sighed, once again, feeling horrible. But she had to say it. Had to say something. "I handed you those divorce papers hoping you wouldn't sign them. I'm an idiot."

Despite not getting top grades in school, Max was an incredibly intelligent man. He was good with numbers (a natural accountant), had a brilliant mind for trivia, and was quite the eloquent writer when it came to reports and papers about his department. Years by the Hogwarts kitchens had taught him how to make a selection of divine bakery goods (blueberry pie being his specialty) and after all these years his flying skills were relit overly sharp. He even did crossword puzzles. If a survey were administered at the Ministry the vast majority of his coworkers would be inclined to describe Max as personable, good-natured, and, yes, intelligent.

But sometimes Maximus Morrison could be a complete and utter idiot.

It was the nerves that did it. He froze up, proving that fight and flight were not the only two responses. And it was also just.. Jack. When he got in disagreements with Sunny the man didn't flail looking for his adult authority. And conflicts with Gabby could be beyond unpleasant but an argument had never left him incapable of coherent speech. It was not to say that this behavior was exclusive to his roommate, Max was known to avoid and eventually stumble through conflicts of all kinds, but it was multiplied tenfold with Jack. From the first day he had met her she had petrified, intimidated, and stunned Max into all manner of stammering, slack-jawed messes.

Now, it was not so much that he didn't know what to say as he didn't know how to process. How did such a simple man even begin to decode that message wrapped in feminine mystery? Nothing was making any sense. Over time, Max had come to believe he understand some things about the innerworkings of Jack Dyllan. She was amazingly strait-forward, either directly telling you want she wanted or threatening you until she got her way. Her last statement felt out of character from everything he had come to assume. She had given him divorce papers because she had wanted a divorce.. but she hadn't.

An unexpected perk of Max's confusion was that it allowed him to simply voice the questions in his head rather than having to form something real to say.

"Then why did you give me the papers? I just.. It's not like I wanted to.. We could have talked about it."

Max felt like he was in the last ten minutes of a crime drama. Over the last thirty minutes a disaster had arisen and then one by one extra evidence had appeared, making the entire case become increasingly complex. Now was the time where all new clues had been introduced and the audience simply had to wait for the protagonist to connect the dots, making the puzzle and all of its pieces fall into clarity. Max wasn't sure if he was the star of his show of a lowly audience member but he could barely bright himself to even grapple with theories. The Jack rulebook appeared to have been thrown out and he was scrambling to make sense of what was before him.

Jack wasn't feeling brave. She wasn't feeling strong. If anything, she was feeling a little faint. Had she really just told her roommate that she wanted to be married to him... right after having commanded him to sign divorce papers? Worse yet, she had gone back on her initial decision hours after handing him the papers. Jack wasn't always brave or strong, even though few would be able to attest to this sentiment - but she had always been a straight forward. Never before had her communication been so twisted and complicated and confused, and never had she been so confused by her intentions.

Because what could happen? She was just going to stay married? She had never even dated someone. Could you marry someone before ever even dating them? She knew that she was a bit out of the loop when it came to normal people stuff, but she was pretty sure people didn't go from friends to married, not after a marriage law had been repealed.

She wanted him to just peer into her head and understand, because she did not understand fully herself - and what she did understand, she wasn't sure wouldn't be humiliated by explaining herself. But this was a band aid situation. She had already started this - there was no getting out of it, so she might as well get it all out anyway. What was the worst thing that Max could do - divorce her? She stared hard at the ground, breathing shallowly, before taking in a long deep breath. She raised her head and looked at Max, before moving back, resting her knee on  the bed as she turned to look straight at her roommate. She exhaled...

"...Okay."

It was time. Go for it. Say something.

Her teeth were pressing pretty hard on her bottom lip, she wasn't going to lie. She rolled her lips, and shook her head, closing her eyes. "I am bad at this," she said through gritted teeth. She opened her eyes, looking at Max. "I'm just going to try to be... straight forward. Honest. 'Cause, that's... it'll... whatever, I'm going to be honest. I'm not good at talking about things, that's why I didn't bring it up. And I lost my confidence when I saw you at the hospital... Because, I mean, you seemed to like her, or something, and we are... I don't... I mean, you probably don't... like... me."

Welcome to elementary school, Mr and Mrs Dyllan-Morrison.

There was something seriously wrong with Jack. She was timid, uncertain.. a different species from the woman who had yelled at him only moments before. And while this change was scary he had to remember that it was nowhere near as terrifying as her blank happiness at Eis. Despite Jack's emotional response being confusing and strange, Max couldn't remember many times where she had felt to present.. so genuinely there. And then she spoke.

At first he didn't quite understand. She wasn't good at talking about what? Then he didn't understand some more. She lost her confidence? And then.. he understood.

It was the lightbulb moment in his imagined TV drama, a domino effect of realizations that left him paralyzed looking at her. Seeing Daisy in the hospital. Daisy as his girlfriend. Jack had been jealous. Jealous that he might like someone else. Liked someone else that wasn't her. "I mean, you probably don't.. like.. me." Jack wanted him to like her. And the only reason for that would be.. Jack liked him.

He understood but it still didn't make sense. Max's hands twisted together in his lap and he looked intently down at the plaid pattern of his pajama bottoms. How-? When-? He replayed their last week, looking at everything from the Quidditch match he had gone to see with the kids to the brown bag lunches they brought each other. Had he missed something? All of that was just.. normal. Day in and day out they had been living their lives as one of the worlds only perfectly platonic married couples.

How could she like him? Jack had pointed out a toothpaste stain on his shirt only yesterday and saw him cry when they watched Titanic. She knew his greatest fear was a tree and that as a twenty-six year old man he still preferred to cut the crust off of his sandwiches. Jack had witnessed his enthusiasm for pillow forts, Disney princesses, and muggle politics. And he was sitting here now clad in a pair of pajamas that his mother had given him for Christmas. Who could love a man like that? It didn't make sense.

Max was sure he was missing something. He would have assumed a practical joke if it wasn't for, well, everything that had happened today. Because today had been all around awful. Max had spent the last four hours running over every scenario of how he might lose Jack and now.. There was something completely unexpected.

And what did he do now? It wasn't like he was in love with her. He just thought about her all of the time and sometimes dreamt about her and constantly wanted to make her happy and know all of her deep thoughts and adopt more kids with her and stay married forever. But he wasn't in love. That would be plain stupid. And dangerous. Because no matter what he thought she was saying, a girl like Jack Dyllan simply never liked a boy like Maximus Morrison.

No, she clearly didn't know what she was saying and Max knew he needed to stomp out the little daydreams that began to sprout in the corners of his mind. It was so clear in his head - the family game nights, late night snuggles, visiting eachothers cubicles at work. Things that they practically did already but without the guise of being 'because of the law'. He knew Jack was just freaking out about the law being repealed. That maybe she didn't want a divorce but she certainly didn't want him. Max knew he couldn't even let himself entertain the idea..

The words slipped out so quickly and quietly that he had no time to stop himself.

"I do"

And then every manner of panicking siren went off internally.