“Leave it to an oracle to meddle with fate, even from beyond the grave.” After the death of his best friend, Jackson is handling his emotions like any other deeply traumatized long lived individual.
By stuffing them down where no one can reach.
He would love for nothing more than to wallow in his repressed grief…if only a certain meddling oracle didn’t leave a clause in her will stating that the spares room in his inherited apartment must rented out if he desired to keep it.
Enter: Hakeem, a PhD student who hums while he cooks and might possibly be the key to Jackson’s rogue magic.
And, Edmund, a himbo who keeps doing awfully distracting things like smiling at Jackson and laughing at his horrendously dry jokes. Honestly, rude.
Jackson is more than content to use these men as a means to an end and move on with his inconveniently long life, If only his magic wasn’t drawn to the men in a way that makes his shriveled heart beat, stirring a yearning in his soul he hasn’t felt in decades.
How utterly inconvenient.
