harrowgate: by honeybread (vulnerable)
Felix had been missing since leaving work on the evening of October 31. His phone went to voice mail, texts went unanswered, and he did not return home to the flat. While it was not entirely unusual for Felix to absent himself from all contact for awhile (typically while buried in the Mirador's Archive reading something he couldn't put down), this time turned out to be markedly different.

Early in the morning on November the first, the front door of Felix and Shannon's flat rattled once, then burst open with a muffled crack. Felix spilled through the door and slammed it shut, leaving a faint trail of smoke in his wake. The smoke was spilling from the mangled, melted and ruined front door knob, which Felix had all but exploded with a burst of magic when the locked door had first presented itself in his own personal nightmare.

Panting, ragged, filthy, Felix stared at the tidy and welcoming entry of his own flat, wide-eyed. Somewhere he had lost his shoes, his jacket, and any decorative accoutrement, and stood barefoot dressed in the ruins of his shirt and trousers which he'd worn to work the previous day. He shivered, and clung to the door, trembling and half-disbelieving that he truly was home.

"Sh... Shannon?" he croaked, barely above a whisper
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Felix Harrowgate

May 2017

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