Chapter Eleven

Maya's POV

It was one of those long, dragging shifts where time felt like it was intentionally crawling just to annoy her. The hallways smelled faintly of lavender floor cleaner and overcooked soup, a signature scent of the retirement home. Maya's back ached slightly from lifting one of the more stubborn residents earlier, and she had a fine sheen of sweat clinging to the back of her neck.

Still, she couldn't ignore the tiny flutter of nerves in her stomach.

She hadn't done anything dramatic, just a little extra eyeliner, some concealer, and a soft peach tint on her lips. Her dark jeans were swapped for something a little more fitted, her black top slightly nicer than the usual uniform-adjacent outfits she wore.

"Oooh, look who dressed up for her shift," Alex sing-songed as he passed her in the hallway, carrying a clipboard that he probably hadn't looked at all day.

Maya shot him a dry look. "I put on lip balm. Relax."

"Lip balm and real jeans? Girl, don’t lie to me," said Tamara from the reception desk as she leaned into their conversation with a knowing grin. "You’re glowing."

Before Maya could respond, a pair of visitors walked by. One of them, a middle-aged man in a blue checkered blazer, offered her a friendly smile. "You staff members are far too pretty for a place like this."

Maya gave a polite nod, about to wave it off, but Alex jumped in.

"Right? I keep telling her! She’s got a date tonight, I bet."

Maya choked slightly on her own breath. "I do not."

"She does," Tamara said at the exact same time.

"Is this what betrayal feels like?" Maya muttered.

"Only when you deserve it," said another coworker, Sanja, walking by with a tray of tea cups. Her hair was pulled up in a bun that had clearly lost the fight with gravity hours ago. She winked at Maya. "You’ve got that 'I might shave my legs later' energy. Don’t deny it."

Maya let out a groan and dropped her head against the nearest wall. “You’re all insane.”

"But cute," Tamara added helpfully.

"Please go be annoying somewhere else," Maya replied, but her voice lacked bite. She couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. Their teasing was relentless, but it was the good kind—light, playful, full of affection. The nerves in her stomach fluttered again. Not just because of the teasing, but because… well, they weren’t entirely wrong.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. A glance confirmed it was a message from Jack:

“Still okay for later? I’m bringing my most human outfit. Prepare yourself.”

Maya snorted softly, quickly typing back:
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that level of fashion crisis.”

A beat later, another message:
“You wound me. I’ll be insulted over dinner.”

She didn’t answer immediately—partly because her shift wasn’t over, and partly because she wasn’t sure what to say. The thought of seeing Jack again, alone, not in the chaos of work or under some supernatural tension… it made her feel exposed. Not in a bad way. Just… vulnerable.

"Was that him?" Tamara was suddenly right next to her again, peeking at her phone screen like a nosy little gremlin.

"Tamara!" Maya yelped, twisting away.

"I knew it!" Tamara cackled and danced a little victory jig back toward the desk.

Maya sighed and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Her cheeks were warm. “I swear, I’m transferring to a monastery.”

"You’d flirt with the monks," Alex called from the nurses’ station.

Before she could come up with a snappy retort, one of the residents shuffled by with her walker. Mrs. Vesna, tiny and sharp-eyed as ever, paused beside Maya.

"You look nice today, draga," she said kindly, patting Maya's hand. "Going somewhere special after work?"

Maya softened instantly. "Just out for a bit."

"Good. You’re young. Go fall in love or something. Before your back gives out like mine."

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maya laughed. “You want to go to the garden for your tea?”

Mrs. Vesna nodded, and Maya walked her slowly toward the sunny side doors, grateful for a few minutes of peace to ground herself.

---

Third Person POV

Jack stood across the street from the retirement home, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. His hands were in his jacket pockets, thumbs fidgeting, shifting weight from one foot to the other like the sidewalk was too hot to stay on for long.

He’d chosen a navy button-up that Castiel claimed was “disarmingly normal,” paired with black jeans and white sneakers. Human clothes. He looked… regular. But somehow, still like himself. And Maya… well, he hadn’t seen her yet, but he could feel her nearby. A pulse in the air.

Then the doors opened, and there she was.

The golden glow of late afternoon hit her just right, catching on her loose hair, her soft smile as she waved goodbye to Mrs. Vesna. She stepped outside, eyes scanning automatically for him—and landed on him.

Jack straightened.

Maya paused mid-step.

The moment stretched. Her heart gave one sharp thud, like it was trying to catch up with her eyes.

He looked—

Hot.

God, he looked good. Clean, sharp, just the tiniest bit out of place like someone had dropped a Greek statue in a Slovenian sidewalk and then given it really great cheekbones and a playful smirk.

“Hi,” he said, voice slightly too loud as she approached. “You look…”

Maya raised a brow. “Like I survived a twelve-hour shift in orthopedic shoes?”

“Like I might forget how to speak entirely,” Jack said, then blinked. “Which—evidently I already did.”

She bit back a laugh. “You’re nervous?”

“I’m not not nervous,” he admitted. “You’re very intimidating.”

Maya folded her arms. “Because of my aura?”

“Because of your face.”

She gave a snort and started walking. “Let’s go before someone from work comes out and starts narrating this.”

Jack quickly matched her pace. “So, I found a path that leads to a small clearing by the river. There are lanterns, waffles, trees—”

“You had me at waffles.”

“I thought so.” He beamed, eyes twinkling. “May I?”

He held out his hand to her.

Maya looked at it, blinked, and then scratched at her arm like she hadn’t noticed. “Huh? Oh. No, I’m good.”

Jack lowered it slowly, expression unreadable for half a second, then grinned. “Playing hard to hold. Got it.”

“I’m not playing anything,” she muttered, eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

They passed a row of tiny shops closed for the evening, the sky above turning soft shades of lavender and coral. The city sounds faded slightly the closer they got to the trailhead leading toward the river.

“So,” Jack said after a beat, “what’s your favorite animal?”

Maya blinked. “What?”

“We’re on a date, right? I need to know your animal allegiances.”

She smirked. “Cats. Obviously.”

Jack nodded solemnly. “I approve. I sensed strong feline energy from you. Mysterious. Aloof. Occasionally murder-y.”

“Charming.”

“Thank you.”

A moment passed.

“You?”

“Birds,” he said. “Not pigeons. Like, real birds. The ones that can actually sing and fly like poetry.”

She tilted her head. “You’re very dramatic.”

“I’m extremely dramatic,” he said cheerfully. “What about snacks? Salty or sweet?”

“Both,” she said. “Ideally at the same time.”

He gasped. “A woman of chaos. I love that.”

His tone was teasing, but it made Maya glance away, face warming. This was... new. This was a version of Jack she hadn’t seen. A little dorky. A little slick. Getting more confident with each step.

Jack glanced at her again, like he was storing her expression in some sacred archive in his mind.

Then, suddenly, without asking, he reached down and slid his fingers between hers.

Maya’s heart did a violent somersault.

She stiffened, eyes snapping up to him. “What are you doing?”

Jack looked down at her with an almost mischievous smile—soft, but sure. His thumb brushed lightly along the side of her hand.

“I’m holding your hand,” he said, almost innocently. “Unless you object?”

Maya looked forward again quickly, cheeks scarlet. “No. I don’t. It’s fine.”

“It’s better than fine,” Jack murmured. “It’s magical.”

“Oh my God,” she muttered. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“I’m working on it,” he said. “I’ve been told I get cuter the longer I talk.”

She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Who told you that?”

“You just did.”

“I did not—!”

He bumped her shoulder playfully with his. “You like me.”

“I barely tolerate you.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re blushing at me.”

Maya groaned into her free hand but didn’t let go. The warmth of his palm against hers was making her brain feel fuzzy. The flirting was getting worse. Or better. Probably both.

They walked a little slower now, the path narrowing, flanked by trees lit faintly by firefly-like lanterns strung overhead. The sound of water lapping gently against rocks drifted in from ahead.

“I like hearing your thoughts,” Jack said quietly, “even when you don’t say them. You always look like you’re having an internal debate with yourself.”

“I usually am,” she admitted. “Mostly whether or not to kick you.”

“I’d take it with dignity.”

“You’d cry.”

“I would,” he said without shame. “Tears of love.”

Maya stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Do you ever shut up?”

Jack looked down at her, smile dimming just a little, and something softer settled in his eyes. He didn’t answer immediately. Then he said:

“When I’m with you? I don’t want to.”

Maya’s breath caught. Her fingers tightened around his, and neither of them moved.

The clearing was just ahead now, glowing gently with gold light. But they weren’t quite ready to reach it yet.

Not just yet.