(BL)Alpha Made-Chapter 222: Anger and fear are close friends

Maxwell was disgusted. He was upset, furious, and his movements were jerky as he left the Doctor’s office. Every movement he made, every word out of his mouth felt coated in vitriol. In fact, he was afraid to speak. He had never thought he was capable of this kind of anger. When Andrew had spoken for him in the Doctor’s office, it was like a hand had wrapped around his throat, suffocating him.

Any and all intention to bring up what Andrew was concerned about dried up, even more so when Andrew continued to speak for him. It was only saved by the Doctor checking on him, but he was so angry. He spoke over him, for him, taking away his agency in just a few seconds. He had never expected Andrew of all people to behave this way, and yet here he was. The same as every fucking other alpha in his life.

People he didn’t know. His brothers. His Father, and now, Andrew too.

He was barely able to speak when he left the office. He was so choked up, so filled with emotion, anger, rage. His eyes felt hot, and his body felt jerky. He was sure that his pheromones were all over the place, but that was something that he wasn’t even able to control at the moment.

The words that left his mouth, the look on Andrew’s face, everything was out of his control. He had to fight to have control of his body. The rage filled him to the point that he didn’t even feel attached to his damn body.

He knew that Andrew was upset with him. He knew because he was upset with Andrew. How could he? How could he do what they had all done? Spoken over him, made him feel little, small. Just like everyone else had done. It was not something small that he had done to Maxwell. Maxwell had trusted him, he had taken him with him to a place that he never even liked. He had let the man convince him to come back to this fucking hospital, with it’s fucking reminders that he was a damn omega, and the way that everyone fucking looked at him.

He was so angry, shaking as Andrew brushed past him. Maxwell clenched his hands tightly, fighting the urge to grab him and shout in Andrew’s face. The hands around his throat were tight, painful, and Maxwell was having a hard time swallowing.

He was so upset. He was so fucking angry. He was so-

"Mr. Beckett? Is there a Mr. Beckett here?" Shaken from his thoughts, Maxwell remembered that he needed to get a few more tests done. They had discussed it after Andrew had spoken for him, and he was still in public. Taking a few deep breaths, Maxwell turned, and headed towards the voice. He could deal with this later. For now, he needed to be composed, himself.

He needed to get it together. He couldn’t embarrass himself.

~

Where was he? Where the fuck was he?

Maxwell’s anger had dimmed as time had gone on, and the tests had taken a lot longer to complete than he had thought. He didn’t get out of the hospital until after 8 pm and by then he had realised that he had been a bit ridiculous. He shouldn’t have reacted the way that he did, but that was okay. Andrew was nothing like those other alphas, or his parents. He had just...reacted poorly to a situation outside of his powers. He’d taken it out on Andrew, and that wasn’t fair. He would just...apologise to Andrew when he came back home. freewёbnoνel.com

He would try to explain what happened. He’d be better. He would be able to talk about what had happened, why he had reacted that way. He could fix it.

He could always fix it.

But then, the clock kept ticking, time kept moving, and now it was 11 pm at night and Andrew wasn’t home.

Maxwell, at first, was angry. He was so fucking angry. Where the hell could he have gone? He wasn’t in his apartment, since the lights weren’t on, he wasn’t here, since Maxwell would have known if he entered the house, so where the hell else could he have gone? Andrew didn’t have a lot of friends, and he wasn’t the kind of person to rely on others.

Maxwell knew that better than most. He’d had to work really hard to get Andrew to let down his walls. It had taken months to get to that level. So much work, effort, everything that he had put into him just to get that man who smiled so willingly at everyone else to look at him, and now?

After one fucking argument he was off somewhere else?

This felt unfair. This felt cruel. This felt like a personal attack!

Maxwell paced the floor in between the living room, dining room and kitchen. He had the perfect view of both doors just in case Andrew came in through the back door again. In fact, Maxwell made sure that the back light was on so that he could see the backyard. Just in case he came in through the hedges again.

This wasn’t funny. This wasn’t cute. If Andrew was doing this to punish him for his behaviour, he didn’t like it.

Maxwell glanced over at his phone, tapping the screen to see if anyone had messaged him. Mr. Newman had, but that was nothing new. His Mother had also messaged him, but nothing from Andrew.

Maxwell let out a frustrated noise, running his hands through his hair. Where the fuck was he?

~

It had been days since he’d seen him, and Maxwell felt like he was dying inside.

At first, he had been angry. Enraged. Then, he didn’t show up. And again he didn’t show up. Maxwell couldn’t go to sleep because he was so worried about where he was. He was lost, confused, not even sure what he should do.

He couldn’t message him first. He just couldn’t do it.

He didn’t have that kind of confidence. He was never the one to reach out first. Maxwell had been pursuing his whole life until Andrew, and even then, Andrew had been in a relationship at the time when he had first met him, so it wasn’t him pursuing him in the traditional sense. Maxwell’s pride felt too big for him to be able to do that. To reach out, to text him first. His pride kept his fingers still, his thoughts racing, and his foot tapping.

Maxwell, not one to drink coffee or caffeinated beverages, had taken up drinking sweet, creamy coffees and smoking like a fucking chimney. He’d basically stopped smoking when living with Andrew, smoking every once in a while, but that habit came back with a passion as Andrew continued to be out of the house.

Maxwell was never the one who had to actually put in the work when it came to relationships, but he felt like he had in this regard. He had made moves on Andrew, he was the one who had made sure Andrew knew that Maxwell wanted a relationship with him. Hell, he was the one who had taken over their sex life in the beginning, and selfishly, Maxwell thought that it was time for Andrew to put some work into their relationship. Yes, Maxwell was probably in the wrong here, but he just wanted Andrew to be the one to come and bridge the gap. Come talk to him first. Show him that he wanted this as much as Maxwell did.

It shouldn’t have to be Maxwell. That’s at least what he thought at first. But he hadn’t slept properly in days. He kept waking up, shaking, shivering, fear filling his body and checking to see if Andrew was nearby, but he wasn’t.

It reminded him so much of the time when Andrew was missing for a week and Maxwell felt so damn small. What if something bad happened to him? What if he was hurt? They hadn’t ended on a good note, so maybe he was just so angry that he didn’t want to speak to him and then he got kidnapped?

Maxwell, still not wanting to reach out to Andrew, turned to the next best option. Richard.

~

It went wrong. It went so horribly wrong. That wasn’t what he wanted to happen, that wasn’t what he wanted to do. No no no. Andrew hadn’t been kidnapped. He hadn’t even been in danger, well, not by someone else.

Andrew had thought that Maxwell hated him and wanted to break up with him. That was the last thing that he wanted to do. Maxwell just thought this was a fight, but Andrew had taken it to mean that Maxwell was done with him.

And then Maxwell was so shocked he just kept putting his foot in his mouth. Every word out of his mouth in that damn stinky hotel room was the wrong thing. He watched in real time as Andrew lost more and more faith in him and Maxwell felt like he was slipping through his fingers.

Maxwell wanted to beg. Maxwell wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He would have done anything if he thought that it would have changed Andrew’s mind, but when he looked into Andrew’s glassy eyes, they were void of any and all good feelings.

It terrified him. Andrew had never been like that with him before. He’d never looked at him like that. So when the hotel room door was slammed in his face, Maxwell wasn’t sure what he could even do.

All he could do was tell Andrew that this wasn’t what he wanted, that they could talk some more when Andrew was a little more calm. Maxwell felt his lips move, but inside, he was shaken. Where had he fucked up? Where had it gone wrong?

Where was the first chink in their relationship for Andrew to think that he didn’t want him? Had he really never told him that he loved him? Maxwell was sure that he had. He was sure of it. There was no way that he hadn’t. He’d basically been in love with the man since day one, and it only got worse as time went on.

Why else would he have planned to be his best friend forever if he ended up living and marrying that horrible woman?

He couldn’t do this without Andrew, not after he’d finally gotten a taste of what being with him was like. What having Andrew hold him, have him around the house, the sound of his soft snores as he slept beside him. Andrew felt like everything to him. He couldn’t be without him. The last few days without him felt like he was choking on the air around him without his scent around him. Like he needed an inhaler filled with just Andrew’s pheromones.

Maxwell was sure that this was something that Andrew had experienced, and now he regretted having ever made fun of him in his head.

Maxwell had hauled a bunch of the clothes Andrew normally wore out into the middle of the house so that he could finally breathe and keep an eye on the doors. Maxwell wasn’t sure he could make it out of this if Andrew was set in his ways.

There was also Andrew’s behaviour, and the smell of the fucking hotel room. Maxwell wasn’t an idiot. He knew what that was. There were...there had been bottles everywhere, and Andrew had stunk. It was...it was something he hadn’t expected to see from Andrew, and yet made perfect sense.

What was Maxwell going to do? What could he do to fix this? He had been so confident that this could be fixed with a simple apology, but Maxwell wasn’t so sure anymore. He couldn’t live without Andrew in his life anymore. He’d tasted what life could be like with him, and he wasn’t sure anything else was going to have meaning, or taste after this.