All that it means is I'll always be dreaming of you ~ [Sindri]

Time was flying by.

Dash had grown somewhat used to the hustle and bustle of living in the city, but it was still a little overwhelming to be around so many people all at once. She couldn’t believe that Christmas was only a couple of weeks away. Once again, the holiday had crept up on her.

Tonight was one of Diagon Alley’s famous night-shopping events. There were markets set up all down the middle of the street, selling all kinds of bright and quirky contraptions, fabrics, exotic jewellery and potion ingredients. The brunette hesitated in her stride as steam from a homemade quiche stall wafted over to her. Her nose twitched slightly – she was hungry – but she kept on walking, a slight smile gracing her pink lips. Dublin had all kinds of excellent shops, but Diagon Alley felt more like home and Dash was a creature of habit.

She’d already bought a few items. Something small for her brother, a present each for Ruari and Aline, but the real reason that she was here was because she knew that it was exactly where she had to be. The Christmas makets were busting with life, and the street was decked out with glowing fairy lights, lanterns and Christmas-themed decorations. It was even snowing a little. Dash glanced up at the dark sky above, blinking as tiny snowflakes clung to her eyelashes. The snow wasn’t too cold, and it wasn’t a hindrance to the shoppers. She was almost positive that it was just another magical decoration. Either way, it was perfect. Exactly like her vision had described.

The slender woman ran a hand through her hair, brushing away a few of the little white puffs that clung there. She was almost at Sindri’s house now. Her tummy was a little tense with nerves, but there was definitely something very comforting about the fact that she knew exactly how he’d open the door. Dash had complete faith in her visions, and they’d led her here tonight. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing she could do but follow the script her dreams had written for her. She hesitated for only a moment outside his door before raising a small hand and knocking gently.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Methodically, and with practiced precision, Sindri Tricked hacked away at what was once his self-proclaimed 'worst piece of furniture ever.' "Rustic modern," The chestnut haired man heaved between strokes, his breath ragged and audible, even over the music bouncing off the walls of his workshop. What did that even mean anyway? Sindri had been commissioned by a prominent wizarding family to create this disaster to fit in their terrible excuse for a cabin in the country. No cabin Sindri had even known needed anything that was labeled "rustic modern." Starting from scrap, at this point, was the only viable option.

Although bitter cold just outside the brick walls of his loft, the workshop climate was a different story entirely. The fire going strong upstairs and all the physical activity made the air thick and hard to breath in without gasping. As a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, Sindri decided that he was entirely in his element. 

Sindri had been throwing himself in his work for the past week in an attempt to avoid his impending twenty-third birthday at the end of the month. Each year, without any success, the man tried to convince his family that their annual Chrismtas shindig was enough of a celebration for him and that no birthday parties would be necessary. The Trickett's didn't even entertain the idea, of course. The decidedly infinite family loved any excuse to bring everyone together. To be fair, Sindri really only disliked all the attention that came with the whole 'having a birthday' thing, he was quite happy to be surrounded by the ones he loved.

Right as he got a groove going, Sindri heard a faint knocking. Surely it was only Bear upstairs, he wasn't expecting any visitors. Another small knock proved him entirely wrong. This time he was sure it had come from the door. Sindri dropped his axe with a heave and flicked his wand to turn off the loud rock music before throwing an old shirt over his bare chest - he didn't want to scare who ever this lost person was too bad. Then again it might only be one of his brothers trying to convince him to go out. Even better the man thought to himself as he wiped the excess sweat from his forehead and swung open the door.

A clutch in his chest made it hard to breath, and it certainly wasn't just because of the cold. He stared at Arden Dasher for what felt like a lifetime, mouth agape, silently thanking Merlin he had enough mind to put a shirt on. "Dash?" Sindri was in disbelief of the image of a woman in front of him. Maybe the heat had gotten to him, surely this was a mirage. "Come in, it's freezing out here," He spoke out of habit, reaching a had to Arden's shoulder to pull her inside as his hazel eyes shot up to the snow filled sky.

The woman didn’t have to wait long. As Sindri drew the door open, Dash felt a striking surge of familiarity for the situation – it was exactly as it had been in her dream. The sensation of familiarity felt like it sat somewhere in between déjà vu and a strong memory and while it was a little unnerving, it was strangely thrilling at the same time. A jerk of something indescribable and emotional happened somewhere in her tummy. Dash smiled immediately, her cheeks a little flushed with embarrassment and her nose pink from the cold. “Hey,” she answered simply, her voice soft.

After what felt like an eternity, the brunette forced herself to swallow. Her gaze dropped from his as whatever spell or tension between them was broken. The man tilted his chin upward as he glanced at the sky and after a brief, furtive look at the way the action made his neck look, she followed his gaze. She blinked as a few snowflakes fell to rest around her eyes. Dash shivered slightly as his hand brushed her shoulder, despite all of the layers. She wasn’t sure how much of it she could attribute to the cold.

“I’m sorry for this,” she said sincerely, catching her errant thoughts together as she stepped inside. It was hot like a sauna inside the house, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing so many layers. Self consciously, the brunette brushed a hand through her hair and shook out some of the snowflakes that had come to rest there. A moment ago, the entire situation had felt safe, fated. It was meant to be and there was nothing she could do about it. her lack of agency had been comforting, but now she felt a little more nervous.

The girl thought she’d better explain. “I had a vision that I came here,” she said softly, a little anxiety creeping up through her previously calm demeanour. The last thing Dash wanted to do was offend him. She couldn’t stop thinking about their previous meeting, or his expression when she’d explained about a very different vision.  Her wide, hazel eyes were glued to his. Worried about making him feel uncomfortable, the girl forced herself to look away, scanning the room. She was still carrying her shopping bags.

With her free hand, the brunette reached out to touch one of Sindri’s works, her fingertips brushing the rough wood lightly. It had been quite some time since she’d made anything like this. “It’s beautiful,” she told him simply. The girl turned her attention back to him with a faint smile. “They’re all beautiful.”

Out of the cold and safely inside his loft sans the safety net of the bustling city, Sindri felt a familiar pang of emotions wavering somewhere between nervousness and excitement. The last two, and only two, times Dash had seen his home hadn't ended particularly positive for either of them. He couldn't help but worry that this might be the same, but this instance felt inherently different. There was something on her mind, Sindri knew the woman well enough to be able to determine that much.

Sorry? Hazel eyes narrowed in thought, a certain sadness visible in the yellow flakes of color surrounding his pupil. "Don't be sorry..." Sindri began, the guilt in his chest now crushing. He couldn't help but feel that he was responsible for this tension between the two of them. This tension that made Dash feel like she wasn't welcome, or that she was somehow intruding on him. Truth told, he had convinced himself that the only person at fault here was him.

"It's nice to see you. Bears goin' to lose it," Sindri added as a wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "But... I suppose you already knew that, hm?" He paused, his eyes studying her own briefly, brimming with curiosity. The man had known Arden Dasher better than he knew his own family, and he still didn't entirely understand these visions of hers. The complexity of every even minor action could alter the future, and he just couldn't believe that everything was set in stone. Perhaps he just didn't want to believe that that was all there was.

Sindri dug the toe of his old converses into the sawdust covered floor, his head shaking in silent protest. The man didn't particularly respond well to compliments, especially when they came from that mouth. "Ah, thank you," A hand ran through chestnut curls awkwardly. Of course he wanted her to like the pieces, they had spent many years together building things just like it. Although, he would never try to duplicate them, it didn't feel right. "At the moment I'm actually in demolition mode," Sindri pursed his lips, eyes darting to what was left of the table. "Have you got any idea what modern rustic is? Have I missed some sort of furniture revolution?" He couldn't help but laugh.

"Here, I'll take your coat," Sindri held out his hand, suddenly aware of how hot Dash must have been in all her layers. Even a plain t-shirt felt suffocating, but he wasn't sure it was only the stuffiness that he could attribute that to. "Can I get you something? Tea? Water? Whiskey?" He wiggled his eyebrows. The ease of the conversation was certainly misleading, of course. Sindri was the type to do everything in his power to make everyone else comfortable, so much so that he often forgot about himself.

Sindri told her not to apologise and Dash flashed him a small smile. “I didn’t want to intrude,” she insisted softly. Really, there was no way around feeling like she was intruding. As far as Dash was concerned, she was. The brunette ran her free hand through her hair again. It was a nervous action, betraying her unease like her polite words did not. It was bizarre how they could be so casual around each other after their last meeting had been so terribly charged. Courtesy and consideration seemed to be ground into the very make up of them both. “It’s nice to see you too,” she answered.

A small nod was her response to his other comment. He didn’t seem to be too fazed by the fact that she’d randomly shown up at his house at the command of some supernatural gift. She was thankful. Her hazel eyes scanned his briefly, searching for a sign that she was unsettling him or making him unhappy. She didn’t pick up on anything in particular, so turned her attention back to his work. She tried not to think about the fact that he’d worked up a sweat, or what it meant that she was aware of the fact.

He thanked her uncomfortably for her compliment, and it made Dash smile. Sindri never had been able to take compliments well. The willowy girl took a few steps forward, closely inspecting one of his pieces nearby. The workmanship was amazing. “They’re perfect,” she insisted, turning to give him a bright look that challenged him to say otherwise. It was hard to keep the pride out of her expression. Dash might not feel like she had any right to feel proud of his achievements, but that was exactly how she felt. She was practically beaming at him.

Allowing him to take her coat, Dash reflected on the fact that even this action was a little more intimate than was comfortable. Perhaps she was reminded of the last time she removed clothing in his presence, in this house. The brunette tried to shake the feeling away, but she couldn’t stop her mind from throwing unsettling image after image at her. “Tea would be lovely,” she answered politely, unwrapping the thick scarf from around her neck. The heat inside, which had been overwhelmingly welcome at first, was suddenly thick and suffocating. Dash set her shopping bags down.

She watched Sindri disappear and, sure enough, in moments their old puppy was upon her. “It took you a while,” she cooed happily, patting the creature and rubbing his ears as he wagged his tail at her happily. She had to push him away when he tried to jump up on her, but made up for it with extra cuddles. The woman removed a few more layers of woolly clothing before Sindri returned.

“I bought you something,” she said, after thanking him for the tea and setting it down, “Something I know you need.” The brunette knew that he wouldn’t take this gift, or any gift, too lightly. She was insistent though. “It’s a Christmas present. Or a birthday present.” After a moment’s hesitation, the woman leant down to pull a box out of one of her bags. “I already paid for it, so you can’t say no,” she added with a genuinely playful smile. Her hazel eyes glanced downward in a moment of hesitation. “Merry Christmas,” she told him, pressing the thing into his hands.

Tea. Sindri could have guessed that would be her response. He was quick to excuse himself upstairs to whip up the familiar drink. It wasn't until he was nearly finished stirring the milky liquid when he realized he subconsciously made it just how Dash had once liked it. A hand flew to his hair uncomfortably as he cursed under his breath. What if Dash's preference had changed? He hadn't even asked. A distant voice and the sound of paws on wood brought the man back to his senses and he hesitantly headed back downstairs with two cups of tea in hand.

"Here we are," The twenty-two year old took slow, deliberate steps to ensure there were no embarrassing spills just before the finish line. For some reason, he wanted desperately to show Arden that he had his life together. "Milk, no sugar?" Sindri winced, half offering the cup, fully prepared to start from scratch. Hazel eyes flicked cautiously from the steaming liquid back to her, painfully aware of just how aware he was about all of his actions. Each breath was on the forefront of his mind.

All at once, everything went blank. Sindri stopped thinking and simply felt. Dash had gotten him something? His heart made a monumental leap in chest, nearly lurching him forward. Suddenly, he slumped as a lengthy sigh escaped his lips, his eyebrows coming together earnestly. "Dash, you really shouldn't have..." Sindri spoke up, his voice small. He was acutely aware of the fact that he hadn't gotten her anything for Christmas. Or her birthday, for that matter. "Really," He added for emphasis under his breath, his hazel eyes rolling around in their sockets, the shock in his voice not difficult to detect.

Sindri ran a dirtied hand over of the pristine box, giving himself a few moments to compose himself and gather his thoughts. Carefully, he pulled off the ribbon and pried it open to reveal a brand new set of chisels. "How?!" The chestnut haired mad had to set the set down on the table to get a better look. They were flawless. Understated. Just how Sindri would have wanted them. "...how did you know I've just broken mine?" His gaze darted back at Arden before realizing how quickly he had forgotten her gift. "Oh...," He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well you've certainly made me feel like an ass," He confessed, pulling out a stool and offering that Dash make herself more comfortable. "I haven't gotten you anything," Sindri added, almost breathlessly as he admired the set of chisels once again. "How about you come to Christmas?" The words had flown out before he could even catch them and think them through properly. "I think I can pull something together by then..." Sindri chewed on his lip self consciously.

“No, don’t,” she protested. The girl had known he’d react like this, but it was her role to argue the point. She took a seat on the stool beside him gracefully, her eyes drawn to the simply decorated yet highly functional set of tools she’d bought him. They really were lovely, and not cheap either. She could see why he’d be a little distressed at the idea of accepting them, but Dash wasn’t going to let him say no. “Of course, don’t worry about it.” The brunette shook her head quickly. There was no way in the world that she’d let him get her a Christmas present. The thought was a little humorous, considering that she was sure he’d been thinking the exact same thing a moment ago.

The willowy girl pulled one of the chisels out of its resting place, testing its weight in her hand. The table they were sitting at had a small pile consisting of several offcuts and scrap pieces of wood, and she held up a piece to Sindri, wordlessly asking if she could use it. It had been a long time since she’d done any sort of woodwork or carving. The girl had returned to her painting and her clay, but woodwork was something she’d done almost exclusively with him, working on projects for the house or for friends or family. She hadn’t touched a chisel in months. With his permission, she set the piece down on the table and used the tool to cut into it. A thin piece of wood peeled off of the block. It was effortless. “They’re charmed to stay sharp,” she told him, “I had to order them – not a lot of magical folk are into this sort of thing, unsurprisingly.”

Her focus was on the way the wood felt under her hands. She still had callused fingertips and palms, but the former Hufflepuff was sure that she’d softened somewhat since moving into the city. She cut a smooth curve into the wood. It was easy to be lost in this sort of activity, she thought. His words snapped her out of it though. “Christmas?” she asked in a small voice, her eyebrows rising as her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t realised it, but her hand had tightened slightly around the handle of the tool she was using. Her hazel eyes found his. “Sin, you know I can’t come to Christmas,” she said softly, a small furrow in between her brows. Silently, Dash placed the tool down on the table, moving the piece of wood she’d been working on away from her. She reached for her tea and took a sip, all too aware of how uncomfortable her silence must be making him. “I’m sorry.” She dropped her gaze to her lap.

"You were always better at giving gifts..." Sindri searched her kaleidoscope eyes for some sense of normalcy. Something familiar. But there was nothing. The hazel specks that had spoken to him hundreds of times before now belonged to a stranger. He supposed this would happen at some point, though -- the stage in their state of separation that they stopped being able to communicate with just a look. Of course, that didn't take away the emptiness that came with it.

There was a glimmer of sadness in his otherwise unbreakable, amicable demeanor. Sindri wasn't typically one for showing his emotions, but this was different. Arden was always different for him. There was no hiding the fact that he was getting sentimental about the offering that she had made. Something about it felt final. Like this is what they were destined to be, at least for the near future. Sindri let out a small sigh of protest, his chest heaving slowly and with precision.

"Well then I'll send something to you," He demanded, a wry smile tugging on the corner of his lip despite the feelings that were swirling around his chest. "I can't believe you did this..." Sindri repeated, running a calloused finger over one of the chisels in thought.

Sindri examined the whole set before flicking his eyes to watch Arden work on a piece of scrap wood from the counter. She had always been skilled with her hands. Much more delicate than he could ever dream of being with his big lugs of limbs. "I know you can't, though," He suddenly piped up, breaking the uncomfortable silence that separated the space between them. "I'm sorry, y'know," Sindri began quietly, choosing his words with great care. "About the last time I saw you. I don't think I ever properly told you that," He explained, uncomfortable as the thoughts escaped his lips.

This was about the closest he had ever been to talking about his feelings. Surely, she knew he struggled with that, though. "I don't know what got into me..." He paused, his hand grazing the top of her own in an oddly intimate gesture before he quickly retracted it. This kind of thing was definitely out of bounds now. "Other than about seven too many drinks," Sindri laughed, despite the lingering sadness in his tone.

Dash shook her head, placing her tea back on the table in front of them and dabbing her lips delicately with the knuckle of one hand. “Don’t feel obliged to get me anything,” she insisted. The girl smiled faintly when he proclaimed his disbelief. He always had had trouble accepting gifts, even from her. Even now, in light, confortable conversation, Dash wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave or be closer to him. It was a strange brink to be on, especially since the two of them had always been so guarded about their emotions. Dash was an emotional creature, but verbalising and expressing the way she felt wasn’t always the easiest thing for the willowy brunette.

She stayed silent for a moment as he continued to speak, completely aware that they were on unusual ground here. Thinking that she had been one of the few people he’d opened up to and remembering that that was no longer the case was difficult for Dash. If nothing else, the past year or so had proven to her that she had difficulty coping with big changes. His little touch sent goosebumps up her arm and she wondered if that was something she’d ever get over. If their physical chemistry would ever be something that she could forget about. She looked up at him. “Don’t apologise,” she said, taking an impulsive route and taking his large hand in both of hers. “I’m sorry too.” She offered him a sad smile and glanced back down at their hands.

Dash didn’t want to let go. Or maybe she couldn’t. Did he understand how that felt? She gave his hands a small squeeze. “Did you want to try these out?” she asked, intentionally redirecting the conversation as she glanced at the box of chisels. “The smaller ones are amazing for detailing, I’ve been told.” The former Hufflepuff understood that it must have been hard for him to speak about his feelings so honestly, and she didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable by pushing the fact. Sindri had always told her that she had a soothing effect on him, but she was sure that that wasn’t the case any longer. Feeling his hand in between hers was so familiar and perhaps stirred a little something in her, so she gave him another squeeze and let go gently. She tucked a few strands of hair - still damp from the melted snow - behind her ear and offered him a genuine smile.

At even just a look of protest in her hazel eyes, Sindri shook his head in counter. There wasn't a chance in hell that the wizard was going to let Arden get away with getting him such a personal, and probably expensive, gift with nothing in return. The fact alone that she had been so thoughtful when it hadn't even crossed his mind was frustrating enough. The man didn't know the protocol for where the line was drawn with exes being that Dash was his only, as evidenced by the look on his face. 

Sindri's eyes visibly softened as he finally opened his mouth to speak up through his previously pursed lips. "You know I will anyway," A wry smile pulled at one corner of his lips, his words laden with assurance. His mind had been made up and they both knew that it would be near impossible to change the momentum at this point. The ex-Gryffindor had always struggled with his stubbornness in younger years and every now and again it reared it's ugly head in adulthood.

She was sorry? That was the absolute last thing he wanted to hear from those lips. A familiar shot of pain somewhere on the spectrum of guilt and anger swelled up in his chest just as it had that night when she spoke out those same words. Instead of arguing though, Sindri decided to let it go. Dash's delicate hands wrapped around his had provided an electricity that made it hard to focus on breathing, let alone fighting back. It almost felt like an intentional attempt on her part to move forward, and the change of subject made that even more clear.

"I -- yeah!" The twenty-two year old ran a hand through tufts of chestnut waves methodically before fumbling to get up from his stool. Sindri, the victim of yo-yoing between his heart and his head, was clearly flustered by the progression of the conversation. It was difficult to wrap his head around going from such intricate feelings to then something so mindless and freeing, but he jumped at the opportunity.

"I'm actually making something for dad for the holiday," Sindri began, glancing back to Dash over his shoulder as he made his way over to blank, freshly made box. "It's for fishing," He opened it to reveal multiple, expanding floors and neatly organized cubbies to keep his tackle in order. Sindri ran a hand over the dark wood affectionately. "Maybe you could help me decorate it?" He offered, slowly, testing the water. "That is, if you don't mind my music..." He joked, flicking his wand so that the loud rock music filled the workspace again.

Although that sort of thing was good for deconstructing, Sindri decided with another flick of his wrist that something more chilled out would better suit their needs. He hummed quietly to himself to the sound of the piano, holding out the small chisel for Arden to grab as he had done hundreds of times before. Suddenly struck by that fact, he averted his gaze to anywhere but the woman who was walking toward him.

Dash winced a little as Sindri’s music played out loud. She liked listening to that sort of thing while working too; it was just one of the many things they had in common. Right at this moment, however, she’d prefer to be able to hear him if he spoke, and hear herself think. She hummed along to the piano tune that he changed to, absentmindedly replaying a similar scenario in her head. He passed her a small carving chisel and she took it, the motion bringing back some kind of sense-memories that she couldn’t block out.

Her mind flicked immediately to the familiar motion; giving her images of the same motion a hundred times over, in different times. She remembered the first time they’d ever worked on something like this. It had been at his father’s place when she’d stayed over summer in their sixth year. He’d been impressed that she could handle simple woodcarving tools so well and she’d secretly been proud and thankful that her father had taught her. She’d liked that she’d impressed him. 

“Was there anything in particular that you were after, or… no?” Dash’s fingers traced lines across the surface of the box, the wooden texture under her fingertips reassuring and familiar. “I’m afraid I’m rusty. I haven’t picked up a chisel in months,” she admitted, wondering if he’d realise the implication of her words. She hadn’t done any woodcarving since she’d done it with him. After a moment of internal reflection, Dash looked up at Sindri. She didn’t want to seem like she was staring, but it was hard to look away. Her heart gave a tug.

Forcing herself to look back down at the thing in front of her. “It’s lovely, of course,” she told him softly.