this ship went down in sight of land [kit]

With a neatly folded paper napkin held to her right brow, Ceridwen Argall kept her eyes down as she made her way down the street toward a small healer's practice out of the way and much more quiet than St. Mungos would be. It wasn't normal business hours, and Ceri really should be at home in her night gown and slippers instead, but urgency and fear kept her from that god forsaken apartment. Her boyfriend likely wouldn't seek her out at this hole-in-the-wall clinic, and she wouldn't have to face other witches and wizards by the masses looking for treatment for their own illnesses and injuries. She knew that they would know what had happened to her immediately, and then from there the judgement would begin. It was stressful enough being slapped around the kitchen, knowing that everyone else was thinking about it and gossiping amongst each other was exponentially more so. Her eyebrow was split right on the bone, right down the middle of the small patch of blonde hairs, and it would scar if left untended.

She was infinitely grateful in knowing that the owner of the practice would see her late in the night, despite her not signing anything but her initials.  Maybe he understood that it was a touchy subject and wanted to give her the peace of anonymity. The "Emberton" on the sign caused her to do a double-take. Surely not Kit Emberton. He was probably jobless and living on his mother's couch.

Ceri made her way up the steps to the front door and pulling her hood closer to her head, rapped on the door three times like she had been told. She looked up at the sign overhead and rested the weight of her body onto her hip, lowering the napkin back down off of her tender eyebrow. There was an animal of some sort on it. Was this a beast healer? A veterinarian of magical medicine? Had she been black and white about the fact that this was a witch in need of wound closure and scar potion? The anxiety over possible embarrassment set in. This Emberton would open the door and see she had no pet or animal to offer his services to, and he would think she was bananas for not going to St. Mungos instead. She sighed, wondering if it might be best to just walk away now.

Kit Emberton was nose deep in a case study about veelas when an all too familiar sound had captured his attention and tore his green eyes from the words in front of him. The Healer's gaze was quick to shoot up to the ticking clock in his office to check to the time -- certainly no one was coming to his private practice at this hour without a serious agenda. The man, who was clad in a dirtied white shirt, jeans, and messy bun, was well aware that the person who had shown up on his door step was not one who without a legitimate need. He wasted no time to throw his work aside and run downstairs two step at a time.

Echo, the man's apprentice was surely asleep by now and unaware of the happenings in the office -- but Kit didn't mind, he had been handling cases such as this for many years before she turned up. Even still, the twenty-seven year old's heart was racing as he reached to open the front door of the lobby.

The sight in front of Kit, hooded and shadowed by the dim SoHo London street lights, was definitely not one that he was expecting. Ceri Argall. The man's insides churned uncomfortably as he took in the woman's familiar yet innately distant appearance. The two had only officially met once, but according to the blonde woman who was now before him, they had known each other since their years at Hogwarts. He remained unconvinced.

"Ceri?" He was finally able to croak, his hand instinctively taking her by the shoulder and pulling her inside to the safety of the establishment he called his workplace and temporary home. "Are you okay?" The man had entirely forgotten their less than satisfactory history.

It was clear immediately that someone had inflicted the injury that the witch was attempting to cover up with a napkin, but Kit maintained a delicacy in his expression as to not make any assumptions. The Healer led her through the lobby and into his office where she could make herself comfortable before he spoke up again. "I must say, I can't say I ever imagined to see you on my doorstep this late on a Friday night. What's happened?" He took a deliberately slow step to the arm chair he had set Ceri in. "Can I have a look?" He hesitantly reached a hand to her wrist to remove her control of the situation without forcing it.

She hadn't been standing there very long at all when the door to the building finally opened. Perking up, Ceri laid her eyes on none other than Kit Emberton. This was certainly a joke. He was a healer? And he had his own practice? Would he fix her injury and ask no questions? Her mind whirred with thoughts and worries as he recognized her as well, despite her hood and the napkin covering her injury. The look on his face had been slightly amusing, a strange mix of shock and concern. At least he wasn't making a joke out of it.

She decided not to respond when he said her name, and merely looked down at the floor when he asked if she was okay. Was she okay? She supposed that she was physically. A split eyebrow wasn't something terribly difficult to fix, and it didn't hurt too bad. There was, of course, the fact that her boyfriend had backhanded her, his thick, valuable, jewel encrusted family ring colliding with Ceri's eyebrow with an unsavory burn. Was she okay?

She let him lead her inside in any case, saying nothing at all with his hand on her shoulder. She was embarrassed to say the least, and she was sure that if anything came out of her mouth at all, it would be something defensive or sour that would only make her look worse. She was at his mercy, really. One snarky comment could send her back out onto the streets of SoHo with  nothing more than a butterfly bandage.

His practice was nice from what she could see in the dim light, and it didn't even smell like animals like she thought that it might. The light in his office made her squint, and the squint made her cringe. She hadn't looked at the injury directly, but she was sure it was probably gross. The napkin had soaked up quite a bit of blood, but she thought it might be nearly caked up by now. And if he was as good as any other healer, he'd have her looking good as new in no time.

She looked up at him from the armchair with a newfound curiosity. She hadn't looked at Kit objectively since Hogwarts, and maybe it was just because she felt vulnerable right now, but it felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He had never been gentle, soft-spoken, careful. She was impressed if nothing else. Professionalism seemed lost on him, but apparently she was completely wrong. She would just add that to the long list of things she had incorrectly assumed about him.

She wasn't very good at lying, so when he asked her what happened, she looked away from him in order to attempt to mask any sort of fabrication she would try to save her own ass. 'Sure, my boyfriend just hit me with the ring hand, no big deal.' She could see it now. Only there wasn't much more that she could say to stray too far from the truth without feeling infinitely wrong in doing so.

"Someone hit me," She kept it blunt, and it was still the truth, but she thought that maybe he would get the hint and not ask any more. Closing her eyes, she tried to wish away the strange feelings that were filling her up to her eyeballs. She didn't want to go home until her boyfriend had sobered up. She didn't want to go back at all. He was a different person the morning after an angry, drunken attack; Apologetic, gentle, loving. If she went back, it meant she would fall back into his trap. But he knew where to find her at work and at home. Could she escape him?

She felt a hand on her wrist, and she gave resistance for only a moment, but finally took the napkin from her split eyebrow. She didn't want to look at him, but part of her wanted to see the look that would reach his face. Would it be assumption? A professional assessment? Against her better judgement, she remained straight-faced as she looked up at him, waiting for what he would say next.

Pausing at even the slightest detection of resistance to his pull, Kit had to remove himself from their physical setting and look at the patient that had landed on his doorstep objectively. This was by no means the first time that the Healer dealt with altercations of this variety, no doubt domestic based on Ceri's behavior, but that didn't take the sting out of it on any level. The thought of a man or woman doing something like this to his sisters... Kit had to focus his breath in a steady manner; in through the nose and out through the mouth. Breathe. The man's gaze quickly readjusted to the present, ignoring the fiery instincts that controlled his behavior. Breathe.

"It's okay," The twenty-seven year old surprised himself with just how soothing his voice was when he was watching from the ceiling. It was no wonder that people were so quick to trust him. Kit was careful, exceptionally careful, with this one. It was clear that the blonde woman who sat in front of him was more vulnerable than she was used to being. In fact, he hardly even recognized Ceridwen Argall. The person in front of him was a far cry from the one he had met in a bar who had used every tactic imaginable to build a wall around herself. That stubborn wall, the one that pushed back at Kit's own wall, was now no where to be seen.

Kit chose to not push the matter; if Ceri wanted to leave the story at that, he was happy to oblige based on his own selfish needs. When it came to things like this, the less details the better. The Healer was quick to dispose of her homemade bandage as to not startle her with the amount of blood. Over his years in the field, Kit learned that his reaction had a lot to do with how his patient would react.

"Right, we'll get this patched up in no time," He worked fast and with a precision that came with practice. First, a quick spell to remove excess blood. Second, a vial of a thick, purple potion that would start the healing process. "Now this has a funky smell. I've warned you. Head back," Kit carefully tilted back her head, his standing position given him a good vantage point to the wound. He wiped the excess potion from her eyebrow with gauze just as the scent carried into his senses.

"Fuck's sake," Kit pinched the woman's nose in an attempt to make her experience any less pleasant than it had to be. Even having been used to the smell, he thought he might gag, he couldn't imagine how she felt.

"That's the worst of it there," He assured her before gently removing his hand from her face. "Sorry," He added mildly, turning to get a solvent that would close up what was left of her wound. "I'll have to hold this on for a few minutes, okay?" Kit poured the clear potion onto another piece of gauze before carefully applying it her brow. It wasn't until that moment that he realized how close the two of them were. Certainly her skin was crawling with him standing over her. "How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes tearing away from his work momentarily to meet her own.

Ceri spaced out staring at a corner of the counter across the room, finding herself replaying the whole scenario of what had landed her here in her head. Erebus had come home drunk again, and even though Ceri should've known better than to hang around the apartment on a Friday night. Then again, if she had been out, she would likely have been accused of cheating on their next meeting. And then he might really let her have it.

Ceri needed to escape, she knew that. Maybe this was the last straw. She could make herself angry and pack up his things and set them ablaze on Diagon Alley. She would do it if she had to. Then again, how would Erebus react?

She blinked away the thoughts, refocusing on what Kit was saying to her. She nodded and folded her hands carefully in her lap, wanting to be the best patient possible despite... Everything. Ceri had never been particularly nice to Kit in their adult life, he didn't remember her from school, and she had shown up on his doorstep past midnight. This was silly.

She didn't necessarily need help tilting her head back, but Ceri decided it must be an effort to ease the tension and awkwardness of the situation. Or maybe he just did it with all of his patients. She had no idea. What she did know was that the second step of this process was disgusting. She knew better than to breathe, but when it came out of the vial and the smell hit her nostrils, she let out a small cough of repugnance. Just as repulsive as she remembered.

With her eyes closed, Ceri flinched when Kit's fingers pinched her nostrils closed. She was somewhat thankful, somewhat amused. She wouldn't do something like that herself, but she wasn't a Healer either. She knew that he knew what he was doing. This didn't stop her from feeling embarrassed.

She was glad when it was almost over. Her brow itched and she wanted to open her eyes, and when she knew he had turned around and moved away from her, it was the first thing she did.

She had been completely silent and stone-faced the entire time. She hadn't thanked him at at all.

"Thank you," She said softly, looking up at him and directly into his blue eyes for the first time since she had gotten here. She hoped that she was doing a good job of disguising what she was feeling, because she didn't want him to see her this vulnerable. He had enough honor to probably never mention it to anyone she thought, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was weak.

"I'm feeling okay," She trailed off, almost saying more but considering it useless. Instead, she sighed and diverted her eyes again. Eye contact was too intense. Instead, she resorted to fidgeting with her hands while she waited for this to be over. Escaping this office would be nice, but she also didn't have anywhere else to go but back to her apartment. Bars would soon be closing and Ceri didn't drink, but Erebus was still at her apartment. If she went to Bronwyn's apartment or maybe Owain's she could find some protection there, but she was convinced her siblings would go kill Erebus themselves if they knew. Kit's company seemed like her only option, but it wasn't something that was good for her. She refused to let herself lean on someone like Kit.

Their close contact was as intoxicating as it was suffocating. Kit teetered on the edge of wanting to put distance between their bodies and taking away the pain that was so clearly etched on every fiber of her being. The Healer worked furiously to focus his on attention on something, anything, besides the conflict waging a war inside of him. Something about this case, this woman, and this night had him entirely off balance. Focus. The demanding voice in his head was practically yelling at him now as he dabbed the cotton on to Ceri's almost entirely healed wound.

"Only a slight burn now," The wavy haired man maintained his eye contact in a safe zone. His working hands seemed like the only viable option until her words broke through the tension filled air. She was feeling okay. The Healer was never entirely satisfied with his clients' responses, to be fair. There was always something more he could of done, some way that he could have helped them more. He nodded a short and unsavory nod before moving his attention back to Ceri's eyebrow. The gash was almost entirely healed with the exception of a jagged red line that, under any circumstance would leave a nasty scar.

"Nearly done just need to put some scar serum on there," He took extra care to rub the potion as delicately from her forehead as possible. She had clearly been through enough in one night, Kit couldn't take any chances with being any but delicate with her. "You'll take a jar of this with you. Apply, I'd say, once a day, before bed, and you'll be back to normal within two days," Just then, as he rummaged through old oak cabinets to find said serum, he realized something. He couldn't send her home - back to whoever had done this. Unethical, maybe? Complicated, certainly.

"You can stay here," Kit spoke before thinking, as he so often did, slowly turning his head to look at her from his crouched position. "We've got patient rooms," He backtracked, pulling the potion he was looking for out and making his way back to Ceri. "You can't go home," Kit was starkly honest, true to himself in every sense of the word. He didn't go any further with his speech. He didn't need to. Sure, it would have been easy to come up with some medical excuse to keep her away, but that wouldn't be Kit Emberton.

Ceri took a deep breath in through her nose, slowly filling her lungs with the tense air that surrounded them. Looking away had allowed a deep feeling of cowardice to settle into the pit of her stomach like a rock. She began chewing on her bottom lip, willing her mind to be stronger than this. Not only had she allowed this to happen to her, but now she was hurting too, and not just externally. She hoped he couldn't see it on her face. She wondered how easy she was to read. When she let the breath back out, she opened up her eyes again and saw that he was back by her side.

She owed him some kind of explanation, didn't she? Surely he was curious to know what had happened to her? Did he think that someone hauled off and punched her for arguing too aggressively? She didn't want him to make assumptions, but then again, the thought of him knowing that she was weak enough to sleep beside a man who would put his hands on her. Did he know what had brought her here? Did he consider her just another statistic, had he seen this before?

Shit. She mentally reminded herself to stop chewing her lip, and finally brought herself to look directly back at him now that he was on the last step. Not much longer. This was almost over. Was that even a good thing? She watched him closely as he moved over to the cabinets, and prayed that she'd find something to say. Instead, she answered his instructions with a soft, silent nod. She looked down at the floor before he spoke again, and the words that came next solidified her fears. She couldn't stop herself from looking back up at him. She was sure that her face had flushed of all of it's color.

'You can't go home.'

Her eyes were wide and she wondered if he could see the sadness in them. Maybe he was just being nice, maybe he really cared.

"Okay," She spoke softly, keeping her eyes locked on his.

Only a few steps from the blonde woman who was sitting in his cluttered office, Kit paused momentarily at her single, soft spoken, word. Okay. Okay? This was certainly not the Ceridwen Argall that he had met in the pub months ago, who used any excuse to argue with him. Kit could say the sky was purple and she would have found a way to disagree. Tonight was different. Suddenly, the Healer felt deflated, completely absent of the combative behavior he was used to having at the ready when this one was around.

Admittedly, the change of pace had given him mental whiplash, their dynamic had all but remained consistent. Kit found his gaze lingering on her own for longer than intended before taking another deliberate step closer to her as he applied the serum methodically to his thumb. Carefully, he tilted her head back and softly covered her new scar with the shimmering potion. It was then, consumed by his own conflict, that Kit made the most impulsive decision he had the entire night. Perhaps, in months.

Kit was no stranger to being unprofessional. Hell, he was practically the poster child for it for it in his field. Kit Emberton -- the messy healer, the dangerous healer, the healer that kissed his patient, apparently. One moment, he was wondering how he might help this woman who he once considered an enemy, and the next his lips were pressed against her own in a release of emotion that he himself was far from expecting.

It wasn't until his hands were exploring her neck and hair that Kit realized what he was doing. Immediately, he took a step back as regret swelled in the pit of his stomach. Here she was, coming to him for healing, and he had betrayed whatever shred of professionalism he maintained. "I'm, wow... shit," The twenty-seven year old was at an unlikely loss for words.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea what that was," Kit was painfully honest as he ran an exasperated hand through his messy hair, leaning on the counter across from her with a heave. "The rooms. The patient rooms. I can get a nurse to check in on you," He took both hands in his forehead, his quiet rambles filling the empty space as he waited for the inevitable slap.

Maybe she should've said something more. Surely an awkward laugh would cut the tension between them, but Ceri couldn't manage. She could see the discomfort she was causing him, and she had never meant to let her burden down on someone else's shoulders, Kit being the last person who deserved it. He had his own personal matters to attend to, and she couldn't help but feel small in his care. She was supposed to be a strong, independent woman. Why was she feeling this way?

He moved closer with the scar serum and Ceri thought if holding her breath again might help get her through this last bit of close contact. This time, when he tilted her head back, his touch felt like sparks dancing across her epidermis and reached down into her fingertips. His contact lingered and she explored his face with her eyes for the last time, watching as he brought his lips down to hers and closing her eyes when he was nearly there.

Ceri wasn't flirtatious, she wasn't confident, she wasn't bold. She had no idea how to be sexy, her gaze far from magnetic. Instead, she sat there with her sad eyes and her heart beating laboredly on her sleeve. Kit had been gentle, careful, and kind. He had let her in, he had patched her up, he had offered her a place to stay. The emotion that had been bubbling in her chest before had made speech impossible. He made contact softly, and Ceri pressed her lips back. The touch of his hand sent shivers down her spine.

Almost as quickly as it had happened their embrace ended, and Ceri opened her eyes a moment after, her lips parted slightly in the absence of his. Her mind reeled and she was completely unable to comprehend anything he was saying as she watched him run his fingers into his hair. Her heart swollen in her chest, she stared over at him unable to say anything at all, though that seemed to be plaguing her tonight. It was the night of good and bad luck, of fears and surprises. Ceri wanted to keep up.

Rising to her feet, she bridged the gap between them and kissed him again with both hands on either sides of his face.

Of all the questionable things that happened in Kit Emberton's practice, this had got to be up there on the list. The Healer's mind was abuzz with the dizzying thoughts of how his actions had just complicated everything. Ceri was a client. This was a job. This was his business. Fuck.

"Right, then. Patient rooms," The wizard gave a quick flick of his wrist and a tiny, hidden lever that he had fixed into every office shifted ever so slightly with a click. Whatever member of his staff which was still in the building would promptly be made aware that the Healer needed assistance along with a location indicator. The new additions came in handy when the office had unexpected guests or if things were busier than usual.

Kit had turned around to say something to try and clean up the mess he had single-handedly created only to be met with a surprising scene. Blue eyes watched with an innate precision as Ceri took a step toward where he was leaned against the counter. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because before he knew it their lips were once again pressed together.

Everything that was wrong about the situation was exactly what had drawn the Healer in and what had fueled his automatic movements. Instinctively, one hand slid to the back of her neck with the other found its place on her lower back. There was no denying the chemistry that the two shared, which was surprising given their less than satisfactory history. Kit was intoxicated by the human contact, so much so that he had forgotten where he was. That is, until, the sound of a door opening brought him back to earth.

'Healer Embert- Oh!'

Kit took a deliberate step from Ceri, his hands running through his hair in exasperation. "Tegan, hi," He greeted the raven Irish nurse breathily, his face without doubt flushed in a deep shade of red. "Please --" He caught Ceri's eye, his gaze asking for forgiveness for how he had acted. It was for the better that their tryst had been interrupted before the reckless man had made matters worse. "Would you mind showing Miss Argall to a room? She, uh," Kit struggled to formulate proper sentences, which was out of character for him. "Calming draught, twice, and she'll be set" He addressed his employee with his best attempt at a professional face.