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.
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