Elysia

Chapter One ~ Welcome Home

My pale knuckles rapped on the door hesitantly, causing a hollow echo to resound throughout the homely cottage.  I paused once I realised that I had no idea what I could possibly say to fix things. I wish that I could quickly spin back time and make some amazing entrance that would ensure that Neville would forgive me, but here I was; vulnerable with no plan.

Slow footsteps rattled the wooden floorboards, alerting me of an oncoming resident. I took a step backwards, inclined to apparate away from here and never face him ever ever again, no matter how much it would hurt me.

"Who's there? June, Gran's not in right now." Neville called out casually, swinging the door backwards to peek through.

His calm voice washed over me, prompting my eyes to close and my body to simply relish the sound of him. I hadn't realised how sorely I had missed him, until his voice ripped away my denial and allowed the tears to flow.

I was genuinely scared that he wouldn't want to see me ever again, maybe he deserved the peace that that would entail.

What if he never wanted to see me again? I would rather live in uncertainty than with the knowledge that he didn't want me. I had the satchel with all my belongings, I could leave right now.

In the time it took me to reflect on my fears, Neville was already standing in an open doorway, staring at me in bewilderment. I shrunk away, sensing disgust and hatred and repulsion from the man I adored. His hand grabbed mine before I could leave entirely.

My mouth began to open, my tongue curling as it prepared to say the words that could fix this; if any such words existed. Tears were still flowing down my face, undisturbed until I swatted them swiftly, crushing the little beads running down my face.

"It's you-" he croaked, his voice obviously under the same strain as mine.

Throat thick with tears, I nodded.

"I thought you were gone... Forever." he whimpered, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I did too." I breathed, still frozen.

"There was blood in the bathroom... and the knife. I-" he stammered, staring at his feet.

Perhaps two adults would be able to piece sentences together, but we were kids, really. I couldn't verbalise the darkness that I had been in, that I'm still in, and he couldn't comprehend it. Instead, he pulled me in tightly, painfully, and squeezed me until I could no longer say that I was numb.

"I should have helped you, I didn't understand any of it!" he sobbed, his throat as raw as a bloody wound.

His hands gripped my hair and spine in a vice-like grip, threatening to never let go. We both sobbed collectively, standing in the morning sun, surrounded by the garden that Nev had been creating while I was frozen in melancholy.

"You are the most wonderful creature walking the Earth..." he whispered, his eyes staring in to mine.

"F-Forgive me." I begged, burying my face in his neck.

"There’s nothing to forgive." he confided, his thumb squashing more of my tears.

Holding each other for dear life, the day unfolded. I made lunch, he made dinner, he boiled the kettle, and I served the tea. His Grandmother was staying the week in London, visiting her children. It was bliss; we were like a married couple, an inviting prospect indeed.

Neville's fingers seemed to instinctively search the purple scars across my wrist and my throat, blatant evidence of my past. His fingers would explore the crevasses, as if he could physically see my sorrow, and it bewildered him.