The soft chime of the bells over the shop’s cherry red door seemed more cheerful than usual as I walked into the store with Ethan close behind me. I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and breathing in the incense my mother had chosen for the day; it was something deep and woodsy, like the forest had been bottled, and Ethan nearly ran into me as I enjoyed it.

My laughing apology drew my mother’s attention from where she was reorganizing a display of candles to accommodate new stock which she had made over the weekend; her eyes widened, flicking between me and Ethan before she dropped everything in her arms to hurry over to us.

“Are you okay?” She pressed her hands to my face, turning it back and forth, looking for any sign of injury. A tiny flicker of guilt was a cold spear in my chest; I’d come back with bruises more than once in my early years at the college, when the first accusations were met with a fiery temper I had inherited from my mother. It had been a while, though; getting older had somehow made it easier to bow my head and take the abuse so I didn’t worry her.

I gently pushed her hands down, smiling at her. “I’m fine, I promise. Ethan stepped in.”

“Of course he did. I told you he was a good man,” she huffed, turning to face Ethan with a worried frown. “Thank you for protecting my boy. Come sit down, please, and let Lyn make something for your face.”

Ethan took a seat, half covering his face as if he'd forgotten about the forming bruise on his face. "Oh, nothing like that, Mrs. Weir. Lyn hardly needs me to look out for him…" he smirked, "He had quite a crowd though. Thought he could use a little back up. That's all." 

The sound of my mother’s laugh made me smile as I headed for the counter, passing through the half door to get to the shelves of stored herbs. “You give him more credit than he deserves,” she said as she sat across from Ethan, watching me work with a fond smile. “He’s never been good with conflict. The herbs though- he’s good at that. Better than me, even.”

“Don’t say that,” I sighed as I collected jars, grinding arnica and comfrey to a fine dust to add to the neutral poultice base my mother mixed every morning. 

“It’s true! You know, he used to make tea when he lived in the dorms- sore throats didn’t stand a chance against him,” she teased, ignoring my grumbling complaints. It didn’t take long for her face to fall. “Of course, nobody on campus would drink anything he makes now.”

“That’s enough, mom.” I shook my head at her before quickly passing behind the beaded curtain to fetch an ice pack from our freezer. My mother watched me with soft eyes when I came back out, a towel hanging off my arm to use to protect Ethan from the chill of the ice. “Are you sure this is okay?” I asked Ethan as I set the small jar with his freshly made medicine on the table, giving him a slightly wary look. This was about the time people started spitting curses at me for trying to poison them, and a weary part of me was ready for him to change his mind. 

Ethan's warm smile was like sunshine. He sat back, his posture relaxed as he looked at me; his light eyes were luminous against his dark skin. "Don't worry, Mr. Weir. If you are a witch or warlock, I'm fairly certain we're on the same side." Though his face was starting to properly bruise, his wink still came off as handsome and charming. 

I sighed, smothering my usual defensive reaction; it sounded like less of an insult, coming from him. One could even take it as a compliment. Years ago I might have thought it was whimsical- in fact I might have enjoyed being called a witch when I wandered the forest digging up herbs for my mother. “Sometimes I wonder about that,” I muttered as I collected a generous amount of my homemade salve on my fingers. His skin was warm as I gingerly applied the medicine, trying to be gentle because I was sure it hurt like hell. “Who knows, maybe they’re right about me. But I promise I’m not eating children or making any college students disappear.” 

I could see the surprise on my mother’s face out of the corner of my eye, and tactfully ignored it. It had probably been a long time since she’d seen me smile like this- and I’d never been able to joke about the rumors. But something about Ethan was disarming, and the weight of the rumors seemed to disappear as my fingers lingered against his skin before I cleared my throat, pulling my hand away and handing him the ice pack to cover the pause. 

He took it, his face rather serious. He winced slightly as placed it on his face, blinking harshly. "Damn. Shock's wearing off," he muttered, giving me a look. "So… There is something to you then? Something…" 

I could tell Ethan was trying to ask the question without stirring up anything we had set aside. Still, his eyes burned with wanting to know… If I really was a witch. I fidgeted under his gaze, weighing years of caution against those ever earnest eyes. I glanced back at my mother, a silent question, and she gave me a supportive smile; silently, she stood up and left us alone.

The pressure built in my chest until it spilled out of my mouth in the form of words I’d never spoken in front of anybody other than my mother. “I guess I’ve always been a little… different,” I said, a faint smile on my face as I tried to relieve my tension. “Mom raised me to share her principles, to respect and worship nature- but it’s always been a bit more than that. It’s nothing useful, though. My finding ritual probably wouldn’t have made a difference any more than the charms I make,” I muttered the words, looking down at my hands. If I had to deal with the fallout of the rumors on campus, I would have at least liked to be useful. Could I really be called a witch when all that came with it was good luck finding rare plants and poultices that worked slightly better than my mother’s? 

Ethan fidgetted, sitting forward slightly as he lowered his voice. “So… there is some truth to the rumors. The town is just a group of chicken shits that have it backwards. Is that what you’re saying?” 

His words stunned me into wide-eyed silence for a moment, before I started to laugh. “It’s not what I meant, but I can’t say that’s a lie. Fear is contagious, and every new rumor just feeds their belief that there’s something wrong with me.” I grimaced, remembering when I had started to think they were right. “But at least you don’t think I’m a monster.” 

Ethan shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand gently. “Of course, I don’t. I don’t think anything’s wrong with you, far from it.” He sighed, pulling back his hand quickly as if he hadn't meant to grab me in the first place. “You’re special. You have a gift. It would be a waste to stop your own self-growth because of some local idiots who don’t understand you.” He swallowed, licking his lower lip as he shrugged. “I just want to help.” 

“Help?” I repeated the word slowly, and it still sounded foreign. Somebody calling me special without sarcasm dripping like poison from the word was strange, almost unbelievable. “How? Defending me from Oliver has already made you an outcast.” I could hear my uncertainty in my voice, as I tried to hide the tentative, fragile hope he had kindled. 

Shrugging again, Ethan thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess part of me hopes somehow you could use your talents to help find that missing student. Then you could clear your name, get down to what’s really going on. If not,” Ethan’s brow furrowed, “have you ever thought about moving somewhere else? Starting over? Somewhere where everyone doesn’t think you’re the grim reaper himself?” 

“I’d be lying if I said I never thought about dropping everything and running away. But everything I have is here,” I gestured at the shop, the counter and the beaded curtain to the back room where my mother had disappeared. “I could try to clear my name- at least Officer Stewart believes I didn’t do anything wrong. But you know I’ve tried to find Collin, in my own way,” my smile was wry, recalling Ethan stumbling across my ritual in the forest. “But, unless you think a good tea will bring him back to campus… I’m not sure there’s anything I can do.”

Ethan smiled, shaking his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He put the ice pack down onto the table, the cold emanating off of it. “Well, what if you were better at it? The rituals I mean. How practical are they? Do they really work, or is it more...aura or whatever you call it?” 

“I think it comes down to intent and the energy you can put behind it. The ritual is… like a medium to express your will. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do much, because I’ve put so much energy into pretending I’m normal.” I paused, and chuckled. “I never thought I’d be explaining this to somebody like it’s an ordinary conversation.” 

“Sorry I’m not trying to be intrusive. I’m interested to be honest. To see what we could find out if it worked. Would you ever consider practicing? I could come with you.” He leaned forward, smiling knowingly as he said, “Be your bodyguard or something.” 

“It’s actually… kind of nice,” I muttered, covering the slight embarrassment by focusing on his offer. “I don’t know if you’re just being polite or if you even believe me. But, if I practice… maybe I could make a real difference.” I smiled at Ethan, wondering if he was really this well-meaning. “The company would be nice, too. Keep any other stalkers from finding me in the forest. As long as you promise to duck the punch next time.” I glanced at the ice pack on the table, and the dark bruise which had stained his skin. “It’d be a shame if you’re always taking hits for me.” 

"Far better than the alternative," Ethan grinned, biting his lower lip. 

“Think you’re tougher than me do you?” I chuckled as I pushed back from the table, distancing myself from the temptation of that sunny smile. “Well, hopefully we can avoid the situation entirely in the future. If you’re serious about wanting to help me, I wouldn’t say no. In the meantime… I promised tea, and I bet your face stings pretty bad by now. Let me make something that can help with that.”

Giving him my brightest smile, I left him with the ice pressed back against his face as he tried to soothe the ache. Though I was used to hiding in the back of the store, I found myself hurrying for once. For all of my attempts to avoid him, I was looking forward to spending more time with Ethan. 

And for the first time in a while, I wasn’t dreading stepping foot on campus in the morning- because no matter what the rest of them thought of me, at least I had Ethan on my side.