fill in the blank [elias]

Edith had been fretting for a couple weeks. There was just the small matter of her being arrested for starting a pub brawl. She had been fined and sentenced to community service, due to start in a few days, thankfully right after @Elias Dörfler would be leaving for Germany for some quality family time. Still, she had started feeling terrible about not telling him of her arrest in the first place, though at the time it had seemed like a good idea. And now that she would be spending every Saturday and Sunday for the next four weeks as part of her mandated community service, she was feeling even worse.

She might have still been holding a few things back, but it was only those things having to do with the Dome or the War that she had yet to tell him about that were keeping her from being completely honest with him. Before the arrest, of course. How to properly tell him, especially a couple weeks after the fact, was a whole other matter.

Until her flatmate decided to take a job in Romania that required a quick turnaround on his decision. There weren’t more than a few days between his decision to take the job and his departure, and while he had been appropriately apologetic about leaving Edith with half an empty flat once again, she was seizing the opportunity to finally tell Elias her news. She had given it plenty of thought, not seeing anyway that this plan could backfire. First, she would ask him to live with her, wait for him to be happy, then slip in the news of being arrested by the muggle police. It was foolproof.

Of course, she had considered what living together actually meant: more and more people they worked with would figure out they were a proper couple these days. Never mind that this might be the most adult decision she had ever made. The only thing she didn’t want to think about was the possibility that he would say no because of some stupid family reason. She had stopped asking Elias about his timeline for telling his family about her, not wanting to disrupt the little couple-y bubble they had going. But if living together could move up that revelation a little more, surely that was for the best, wasn’t it?

It was easier not to dwell on the option of Elias saying ‘no’. Living together meant other things, too. Good things. Like not having to deal with disturbing flatmates, not having to schedule time to see each other, not having to remember if she had a fresh change of clothes here or not. There was also the minor detail of being able to see Elias practically whenever she wanted.

Edith was determined to steer the evening in her favor, insisting she didn’t need help in the kitchen after she offered to make him dinner, even though she knew that he had a thing about the cleanliness of his kitchen and she wasn’t exactly a clean-as-you-go sort of chef. Not that she was a chef at all, mind. Her idea of good cooking was a pot of spaghetti, with the fancy bottle of tomato sauce she had splurged on from Mark’s and Spencer. It was either that or the other thing she knew how to cook, beans and toast with a side of scrambled eggs.

She wasn’t that hungry though, not with this question ever persistent in her mind. She only made it about halfway through her plate of spaghetti before setting her fork down, taking a confidence-boosting gulp of wine, and trying to change the subject like it was every day she asked a man to cohabitate.

“So Arawn is moving to Romania, and,” she paused, cursing herself for not rehearsing this part of the conversation more thoroughly, shaking her head at her past self who thought she would just be able to wing it. “And seeing as he bought all the furniture and how finding a flatmate is nearly impossible and I already spend most nights here anyway...” She paused to swallow, her mouth unreasonably dry, finally picking her gaze up to focus on the face across from her rather than the tabletop she had previously been so interested in. She had made it this far into her question, she really ought to just finish it. “What I’m trying to say is, d’youwannalivewithme?” Her voice cracked and her cheeks were hot, but somehow she managed not to tear her gaze away from his.

Elias had come straight home from quidditch practice. Although he usually tried to go out with a teammate or two for a drink before heading home and turning in for the night, Edith had hinted that she had a surprise for him earlier that afternoon, and he was unwilling to refuse her request to join her for dinner. He had showered quickly and apparated straight onto the front doorstep, but Elias had been expecting the next step to be a change of clothes and then a trip out to one of their favorite restaurants in London. Instead, he had been greeted with the unmistakable sight (and smells) of an inexperienced cook attempting to prepare dinner in his pristine kitchen.

Though he had been living with a roommate for the last year who was hardly the neatest man on the planet, Elias had long been in the habit of keeping things tidy and had never really minded much cleaning up the dishes or laundry that Oliver left around the apartment. Now that Oliver had almost-officially moved out, he had free reign of the place and was proud to say that it was free of all smudges, crumbs, and misplaced articles of clothing. Having to stand by and watch as Edith attempted to cook without magic in a largely-magical kitchen, therefore, had been one of the more trying moments of his time in the apartment. It was amazing how such a simple meal could create such a mess when in the hands of a careless cook -- Elias was no master chef himself, but he at least was capable of using only one pot to prepare a simple pasta and sauce meal.

Unable to bring himself to leave his girlfriend alone, even to change out of the work robes he had put back on after practice, Elias had seated himself at the small kitchen table and done his best not to distract Edith while subtly flicking his wand at the specks of sauce and starchy pasta-water that were collecting on the counter and stove. Even as he did his best to clean up as she worked, Elias couldn't help feeling a bit worried over the "surprise" Edith had mentioned earlier in the day. The whole thing had a bizarre formality to it that, while not completely averse to Elias, was highly uncharacteristic of his girlfriend.

His desire to be in control and in the loop kept him distracted all through dinner. He barely noticed the spaghetti that he carefully twirled before each bite, focusing more on Edith's chattering in hopes of picking up a clue than on the surprisingly-decent food she had prepared for him. Finally, Edith set down her fork and Elias mirrored her, feeling the moment had finally come.

Arawn was moving? His first reaction was somewhere between relief and satisfaction; he had never been thrilled about the idea of Edith living with another man, though he hadn't dared voice his objections out loud. Best not to interfere overtly and risk upsetting either roommate. The slight smile he couldn't help repressing, however, was followed by a twinge of annoyance that he was only hearing about this now. Hadn't he known Arawn much longer than Edith, even if they weren't terribly close lately? It seemed like the kind of professional news the pair would have shared with one another. He was tempted to ask more about Arawn's abrupt departure, but the fact was that Edith really seemed to be teetering on the edge of something. Always afraid to stop her, knowing as he did that she had a tendency to allow him in and shut him out intermittently, Elias kept his mouth shut and simply waited.

As he registered the next words that spilled out of Edith's mouth, however, Elias could do no more than blink. He couldn't have heard her correctly, and he certainly shouldn't have let her talk that long without saying something himself. Was she really saying what he thought she was saying? As he sat, stunned, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he probably ought to reply. That she had asked a question, and was probably expecting an answer.

"Er -- " he hesitated, picking up his wine glass to buy himself a moment more of time. Was there any chance she would believe he hadn't heard her? "Well, what if Arawn comes back?" It was the only thing he could think of at the moment. Why he was so reluctant, Elias wasn't really sure. The question was sudden and unexpected, sure, and he had really been imagining that he would be the one to ask such a thing if the moment arose, sure, but that didn't mean he had to be so inconsiderate about the whole thing. Though, if he was being honest with himself (which he rarely was), this was only the next in a long chain of inconsiderate and thoughtless decisions he had made over the last few months.

Was there a better way she could have posed this question? Some sort of way that would have provoked an immediate response? A positive immediate response, mind. Something about the way Elias was staring at her suggested that there probably wasn’t a better way to approach things; rather, maybe she shouldn’t have asked at all. She really ought to have prepared for this instead of expecting him to agree, instead of convincing herself that there was no way he could be opposed to the idea. It was a very rare occasion that Edith let herself get her hopes up -- hopes that were almost always dashed -- and now she was really wondering why she had.

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to say something, to just get the rejection over with, so they could move on and go back to not talking about things like normal. There was still half a bottle of wine that needed to be consumed, after all.

Edith removed her gaze from Elias’s face as he broke the silence with an ‘er’. That was it, the grand response she had steeled herself for. The silence continued and Edith pursed her lips together, resuming her careful visual inspection of the tabletop from moments before. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored it, suddenly very uninterested in whatever Elias was doing.

What if Arawn comes back? Edith looked up without saying anything, her brow furrowed. Was he serious? Elias had been inviting her over far more often ever since Arawn had moved in with her and she had figured out pretty quickly why -- it wasn’t like she had suddenly become more interesting or attractive (even though she had been putting slightly more effort into her appearance as of late). She opened her mouth to say something in protest to his question, but shut it before she could start. Telling him how stupid he was probably wouldn’t help her get the answer she was looking for.

But she couldn’t let the question slide by like she hadn’t heard it. And unlike Elias, Edith decided to answer his question directly, rather than skirting around it and asking some other, completely unrelated and asinine question. “Who cares about Arawn?” Almost directly answering his question. She fell short of keeping her emotions completely in check, though she had to congratulate herself for not calling him an idiot outright.

She wasn’t looking for an answer to that last question, though, and she moved on before Elias had time to respond. ”I—“ she started again, pausing to take a breath, her eyes closed for a prolonged second. It took some effort to not get mad -- no, it took some effort to not stay mad -- and she resumed talking after a few seconds, making direct eye contact again. “If he comes back he can live there, I guess, but it’d be up to whoever has the flat then, wouldn’t it?” She waited a beat before adding, with a much clearer voice and  more surety than before, “I want to live with you.” She resisted the urge to shrug, to roll her eyes, to do any of the usual gestures she used to avoid serious conversations. This would certainly be the last time she would ask him this (though it was already one time too many) so she didn’t want to ruin it (again).

Edith’s sudden shift to an aggressive tone should not have surprised the German, but he couldn’t help recoiling a bit from her sharp response. Of course he had not really expected her to be satisfied with his reply, but his mind was still catching up to his mouth. Thankfully, Edith plowed on before he had time to construct an appropriate response to her counterquestion, and he was saved the opportunity to make the situation worse.

Elias set his wine glass down carefully, gazing sadly at his girlfriend across the table. “Edith,” he said quietly, “I would want to live with you, too. But --” It took all his effort not to look away. Now that he had said the words aloud, he realized how true they really were. Even though he hadn’t thought of the idea himself, the image of coming home with Edith every day and waking up with her every morning had a soft and sweet appeal. Maintaining eye contact, and having to see how his next words might hurt her, was painful in of itself.

“But,” he reiterated, sighing and steadying his gaze, “you are familiar with my situation. I cannot simply move away without giving an explanation to my parents. They will ask questions.” Her declaration had been so steady and sure, and Elias hated the way he was responding with such uncertainty and ambiguity. After the blow-up in the Ministry Atrium, the couple had managed to delay much discussion of the delicate situation with his family. Maja had come around, sure, but she was younger and more flexible in her ways than their parents could be expected to be.

Of course, the reality was that if Elias had no intentions of ever telling his family about his girlfriend, then there was little reason for her to stay. He knew it, and he suspected that she did, too. The idea of moving in together suddenly brought the issue to the forefront of his consciousness, popping out unexpectedly from the dark box that he had managed to cram it into and store away in a dusty and dark back corner of his mind.

Letting out a sigh, Elias extended his hand to catch her fingers between his own, resting their palms on the kitchen table. “I am sorry,” he told her, and hoped that she would know he meant it. “I hope I was not rude. You surprised me. But I need a bit of time to think about whether it is possible.”

He would want to live with her, but... Edith opened her mouth to say something, but she closed it again, unsure what was left to be said. It was hard to look away from him when he was looking at her like that, as if he was trying to apologize with a look for the words that were leaving his mouth. But he started again, and that was enough to convince her to look away, to a rogue smudge on a shiny surface somewhere over Elias’s left shoulder.

The situation. Edith closed her eyes. She wasn’t focusing on his words anymore, didn’t need to hear yet again that his parents would disapprove of her -- if they knew she existed at all. The feeling was too familiar, too recent. But this time, she probably wouldn’t benefit from switching to night shift and ignoring him for months on end in an effort to forget about it.

She chanced a glance back to Elias as his hand found hers, but she only lingered for a second before looking away again. She didn’t return any squeeze he might have offered, rather unsure why she was still there, anyway. Edith ignored his apology, not wanting to dwell on her many failures as a girlfriend any more than necessary. There would be plenty of opportunity later to replay her words and figure out exactly where she had gone wrong. She didn’t need to waste her energy on trying to change his mind. If anything, she needed to preserve that energy for her community service that was looming ahead, the community service that she wouldn’t be telling Elias about.

But that still didn’t solve the problem of her roommate situation. She had lucked out finding Arawn; she wasn’t confident that she could do it again.

She pulled her hand back slowly, taking another deep breath as she looked back up. “What if--” she started slowly, choosing her words carefully, “Could I move in to Oliver’s room?” She shrugged, her hands clasped together in her lap. “Unless you already found someone, in which case you really should have just started with that excuse.” She was speaking quicker now, and it took her a second before correcting herself: “That reason, I mean.” She wasn’t sure at which point in her final question she had looked to her fidgeting hands, it didn’t really matter.