Both April and I are instinctively drawn towards the large, welcoming furniture. As I kick my shoes off, my overcoat and suit are replaced with a sweater and knit pants with a swish of my wand. At the edge of one of the large, wide sofas I drop back, letting my body fill the entirety of it. April smiles in a melancholy way at the sight.
"What?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.
She bites her lip as she pauses. With a hint of nostalgia she smiles as she says, "Ominis would always do that. Once he found the side of the sofa, he'd turn around and flop all the way back just like you did."
I feel a buzzing in my bones at the thought of a ghostly memory Ominis in this very spot. It feels somehow intimate. Too close of a connection to him that I'm not ready to face. The sour taste of shame bubbles into my throat.
Maybe she senses it. Or maybe she simply has no more to say about it. But quietly, April moves towards a tall, large wardrobe and begins to unlace her boots. I sit up and lean over the back of the sofa as I watch her work the laces and pull them off one by one, tucking them neatly into their place. An impressive number of vials and knives that she had tucked into them and strapped to her legs are put away into drawers. She removes and neatly hangs up her overcoat. Then the cross-body satchels of various sizes and purposes are strung over empty hooks. Her fingers work the buttons of her vest, which she slips off and carefully hangs. Then the same of her shirt and the corset beneath.
I am mesmerized to witness it, as grand to my eyes as if it were a ballet and full orchestra. I watch her ribs expand with their new freedom and see her shed a weight from above her eyes and shoulders with the release of air. I note the series of new, pink scars up her side from the other night's splinching incident. It draws my eyes to a series of other scars on her back and torso I hadn't noticed yet. They beckon me like an explorer's treasure map to journey me through so much of her life that is yet unknown to me.
I watch as she pulls a large cable knit sweater over her head. Then she gathers her hair up with a dark red ribbon into a haphazard knot on her head. I watch her deftly navigate out of her leather pants that somehow contain more knives, vials, and satchels. They all find their way to their appropriate drawers with her attentive guidance. She dons a pair of loose knitted pants that have enough length to pool slightly at her bare feet. She stretches her neck side to side and takes in another deep breath like a benediction to her ritual, and I breathe with her.
She joins me on the sofa and tucks her feet and legs up into herself, just next to me, and leans one arm on the back to rest her head in her hand, matching my eye line. "You are exquisite," I say. She scoffs with smiling, sleepy eyes and says, "from changing my clothes?" I nod, as seriously as I meant my observation saying, "yes. No magic. Just you."
I reach towards her and trace my fingers up and down her forearm as she says with a pensive look, "guess I just needed to feel a little control or something." She sighs deeply and searches my face as intently as I search hers. It's as though each of our faces could be the crystal ball from which the other might suss out what to say or do next.
She looks down and begins fiddling with her sleeve. "I'll be seeing him in a few days," she says simply. "Ominis."
"Oh," I try to gulp down the bubbling shame. "I'd been wondering if you're still close."
She doesn't meet my eyes but explains, "not like we used to be. But we keep in touch."
"Were you and he...after I left, did you and he..."
::Shit. Sod OFF, Sebastian! Why would you jump there?::
Trying to correct it, I offer a measly, "sorry. That's not my business is it?"
But I can't help wanting to know. They were obviously close. 'The indivisible duo,' Ronan said. I can barely stomach thinking of the ways I've already hurt Ominis so thoughtlessly – my first real friend, my first confidant, my brother. And though it kills me to consider, I don't know if I could bear to add further insult to injury if he and April had some kind of past.
My heart sinks to realize I can't read April's reaction. The look she's giving me makes me think she's not sure if I'm joking. Her voice is emphatic with some disbelief as she says, "No, Bash..."
I nod. I hope she's not upset that I asked. But I'm relieved. Still looking at me curiously, April says almost scrupulously, "I'm not really his type." She reads my face for a moment before adding, "he's became a brother to me. Our bond goes pretty deep."
Merlin...
I try to ignore the thoughts of what I saw tonight. Tamp down the shame I feel. I'm dismayed when a raspy tension reveals itself in my voice as I say, "I'm really glad you had each other."
April looks at me kindly. She brushes a few stray hairs from my face and it sends chills down my neck into my chest. Her cool hand rests on my cheek as she explains, "I've been thinking about it and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need his help. You know, with the – his memories. So...he might be around."
"Yeah, that makes sense." I clench my jaw at the thought of facing him, attempting to keep a volatile ocean of remorse and fear at bay. I have to avert my eyes from April's to be able to ask what I want to know but am afraid to hear the answer to. She moves her hand to my shoulder. Her tenderness might melt me.
"Do you think he'd want to see me?" I finally mutter.
She inhales deeply and answers candidly, "Honestly? I don't know."
::What were you expecting, you foolish arse?::
I instinctively grab and squeeze her hand as though it were some kind of life raft. Through a smile born of my discomfort I stammer, "suppose there are worse answers." I try to force myself back to her eyes but I can't.
"Would you like me to talk to him about you?" she gently offers. I feel emotions I'm unprepared to face threatening to break through. I bring her fingers to my lips as if they could help me keep in my breath and my tears. I nod as I scrunch my nose to reduce the tingling sensation I feel.
"Okay," she says. "I will."
I nod again, kissing her fingers repeatedly. I am unable to meet her eyes for all the gratitude I feel for her. For the shame racing through me. And I resort to pulling her folded form into me, adjusting myself backwards into the corner of the sofa. She adapts and tucks into the crook of my arm, nuzzling into my side and brushing her hand back and forth across my chest as I measure my breathing.
We sit in this way, taking in the quiet together for some minutes. She closes her eyes, relaxing under my fingers that I run along her back and arms in return.
More long minutes pass.
"Hey Bash?" she says eventually.
"Yeah?"
"Are we both doing that thing where neither one of us is saying anything because we're afraid of causing the other any pain or distress?"
I smile. "Oh most definitely."
I can feel her smile too. "Nice," she says ironically.
"Very." I add, "and really productive."
She breaks a quiet laugh as she plays along. "Totally. Great for communication!"
"And problem solving!" I offer.
"Mm! Yes! We are solutions people." She laughs sleepily.
I look down to her just in time to witness a subtle skirmish just behind her eyes. A battle unfolds and I admire her agile moves to circumvent the advancing draw of sleep. I could watch it forever.
With a small yawn she says, "to our credit," burrowing closer, "tonight was a lot. So all things considered, I'd say we're doing pretty well."
I consider the unbelievable pendulum swing of emotions and events. All I can do is agree. "Yeah...it's a lot."
Her lips smile apologetically. Her eyes sparkle under heavy eyelids. I think about what Thiago said and choose to trust it. If she really has carried a flame for me that at all resembles what I feel for her, then there's no reason to push through our exhaustion tonight. We somehow found our way here after all this time. What obstacle could be more difficult?
"Let's get you to bed," I suggest.
She sits up and pulls her eyes open. "No, I'm okay. There's too much to sort through."
Standing and scooping her into my arms in a single motion, I say "nonsense!" She squeals a bit and wraps herself around my neck. "If I remember correctly," I say as I begin walking towards the bed, "someone very wise and painfully beautiful suggested that you and I choose to face all whatever...tom-foolery might come our way together. So, personally, that's what I plan to do."
She smiles shyly. I bend to pull aside some blankets saying, "sure, lots of unknowns, yes, lots to discuss, lots to work out." I slide her into the bed, shoving pillows out of the way to create a nest for her. "But in my estimation? None of it is insurmountable." I kneel at her bedside and sigh. I brush my fingers up into her hair. I bring my face near hers to say, "I think we can handle it. What about you?"
"I know we can," she says with heavy eyes, an adorable smile and waning volume. The confidence her agreement inspires in me alleviates fears I only realize had taken hold now that I feel them dissipate.
From her cocoon she whispers, "come in here so I can hold you," and a numbing sensation of bliss washes through me to my toes.
"If you insist," I say wryly. She smiles and her eyes close in relief.
I slide under the covers beside her, she rolls to face me. As effortless as breathing, we wrap into one another. She lays her head into my shoulder as my arm slides beneath her. She clings an arm around me, pulling herself close, as she easily tosses a leg across my torso and my hand naturally rests a soft grip on her thigh.
"Comfortable?" I ask, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells like jasmine.
A weak, tiny hum is her reply.
"Sleep well, my angel."
She is quiet and her breath becomes slow against my cheek. Her face is almost celestial in its serenity and I feel duty-bound to kiss her again.
"April?" I whisper. She's fast asleep.
With a deep sigh my mind wanders through our conversation. To both of us not saying anything lest we distress the other. I can't begin to wonder what she holds back without also considering my own reality – and she's not going to like it. At all. Hell, I don't like it.
Even if I could somehow overcome the Unspeakable silencing charms and tell her everything, where would I possibly begin? A silly notion crosses my mind and I chuckle to think of how I might write it out in a letter to her, just like I used to do to pour out my thoughts. Sure! That would go over so well. Something like...
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Dear April,
Good morning, darling! Wee spot of news. Turns out I have a special brain that has inextricably linked my (generally intense) emotions to my magical abilities. They like to exploit and hijack one another like a cranky, old mutually-destructive couple that should never have been married in the first place. It's a riddle literally no one has ever heard of or can seem to solve! What fun!
Also. Another quick thing. After the Ministry found out I fucked off East-ways to try to get a handle on it, they convinced me I could 'help people' if I could deconstruct and replicate the total-walk-in-the-park processes of overcoming the Cruciatus curse and the Imperius curse. Oh and then they said 'you know what, Seb, while you're at it, be a good lad and have a go at overcoming the Killing curse for us, won't you?'
'Sure, Minister. No problem. Karma's a bitch, after all.'
Except – funny thing, April – I already know the answer to that riddle! All it requires is complete non-attachment to the physical realm. Easy as! Makes sense! Souls cannot die, so if the ego is dead, there is nothing left to kill within the body. Et voila!
Only one little problem, though. Real pesky, actually. You.
As luck would have it, I found I could successfully release my attachment from just about everything and everyone else. (Thanks in large part to all the bridges I foolishly opted to burn. Well done, Seb!) But, wouldn't you know it, Collins, no amount of physical pain, mind control, sheer will, resistance or relinquishment could ever work to convince me to give you up. Even when I thought I'd never see you again, something in me found the mere idea of you worth holding on to. Made Lama-La furious.
'But Sebastian!' You may be thinking. 'Don't you know I jeopardize everything?'
Why yes! Yes, April. I do know that. But it's complicated.
I have zero doubt your presence unequivocally threatens everything I've learned and worked to master. Something inside me responds to you by feeling fucking everything. From the highest peaks of joy to the depths of primordial greed, I feel everything for you – much bigger and deeper than is probably normal or necessary. You infiltrate and call to arms even my most remote and tranquil shadows. When I'm apart from you, I feel myself unravel to insanity. When I'm with you, you consume me. And I ache so deeply to be consumed by you that it drives me to want to devour you, somehow, in turn.
Yes, very healthy. I know.
So for reasons both inexplicable and seemingly fated, I am bound to you: the most remarkable, most capable, most irresistible, intoxicating woman on this planet Earth who threatens my stasis, my magic – and, as such anyone in its proximity.
'But why risk it,' you ask? Excellent question, April! You've earned a biscuit.
Like I said, it's complicated. To be near you is also to also feel a tranquility of mind unlike anything else I've achieved elsewhere. You are both my weakness and my sanctuary.
When we met, I woke up. I realized I had never known love or light until you. And from that moment, every part of me has burned for you. Wildly. Every ounce of me has been devoted to you. Ceaselessly. There has only ever been you. After all of my mistakes, all of the lost time, and in spite of the countless ways I will never earn or deserve you, there isn't a single cell in my body that doesn't wholly and completely love you.
So anyway – have a lovely day! Don't forget the biscuit!
Yours truly,
Sebastian
P.S. If the above reality of my practically unhinged adoration isn't entirely too intense for you, you know, having only just reconnected a matter of weeks ago – do consider that if the Ministry wishes for me to actually fulfill their directive, they will have no option but to order my mind and heart obliviated of you. And if anyone attempts to do so against my wishes, I will kill them if I must. Ta!
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I sigh and settle into April more closely, closing the most minuscule gaps of air between us.
Merlin, I'm fucked.
::Enjoy her while you still can, you stupid. Bloody. Fucking. Eejit.::