The himbo’s screaming cuts off abruptly. He stumbles out of the circle, the magic allowing him to pass now that he’s calm.
He’s standing there. Blinking. Looking around with confusion, but not terror. It’s like he can’t see Dis at all.
The knocking on my door is getting louder.
“Did we...?” the himbo starts.
“Yeah,” I say quickly, pulling my hand free from Dis’s grip. The connection breaks. The power cuts off.
I feel weirdly cold without it.
“It was great. You should probably go now.”
His face breaks into that wide grin again. “That was amazing! Can I get your number?”
“No.”
“Right. Cool. Yeah. I’ll just...” He gestures vaguely toward the door.
I grab his arm and practically drag him out of the circle. Through the living room. Down the hallway.
The knocking continues. Insistent now.
I pull open the door.
The himbo is standing behind me, still grinning. And in front of me is Mrs Edwards from the flat next door.
She’s in her sixties. Sharp-eyed. The kind of neighbour who notices everything and is unhappy about all of it.
“Felix,” she says, looking between me and the himbo with an expression I can’t quite read. “Is everything alright? There was screaming.”
My brain scrambles for an explanation. Any explanation.
“We were just...” I start.
“Having fun!” The himbo supplies helpfully. His grin gets impossibly wider.
Mrs Edwards’s eyebrows rise. She looks at me. At the himbo. Back at me.
Oh god. Oh no. I’m not a prude, but this is a lot. And Mr Himbo is so not my type.
“I see,” she says slowly. “Well. Please try to keep the... fun... to a more reasonable volume. The building has thin walls.”
I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“Right. Yes. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
The himbo is still grinning. Still completely oblivious to my mortification.
Mrs Edwards gives me one more long look, then turns and heads back downstairs. I can hear her muttering something in Welsh that I’m grateful I don’t understand.
“Thanks for tonight!” the himbo says cheerfully, squeezing past me and heading for the stairs. “This was fun!”
He disappears down the stairwell, still grinning.
I close the door. Then I lean against it and try to remember how to breathe. Disaster has been averted, for now. But it’s not just the crisis that has me unsettled.
That… that whole working with Dis thing was intimate in ways I wasn’t prepared for. Feeling Dis’s magic. Having him guide me through it. The way his hand felt. The way it felt like we were connected by more than just magic.
