maidstone | stolen from another life { p h i l l i p }

“You’re welcome,” she replied politely. She’d brought some water, too. Not that there weren’t working taps here, or anything, but she actually wasn’t sure if Phillip preferred tap-temperature water, or cold water? She’d brought a bottle that she’d half filled and then put in the freezer, then topped up afterward. In retrospect, it was a bit silly – he could do magic now, she remembered. He could cool his own drinks. She was a little embarrassed at the thought, glad now that she hadn’t brought the bottle over too.

Billie smiled when she saw his gaze flick to her lips again, and she looked away, down at the container as she reached for it. The blonde placed it in her lap and opened the lid. “Kendrick and I made croissants,” she told him, patting the back of her hair self-consciously. She’d forgotten to check that her clipped braids had survived the make-out session, but they seemed fine, held securely by her clip. “They’re not very good,” she added, flicking her eyes up to him, then back down at the croissants in the box. Inside the container, alongside the pastries, there were two more smaller containers – one butter, one jam – and a knife. She placed the open container down on the bed beside them, shifting onto the bed a bit more herself.

She paused, then swung her legs off of the side and undid her shoes, placing them neatly on the floor together before she moved back onto the bed, her legs tucked demurely to one side. She flattened her skirt and reached for the other container. “But you have to at least pretend you like them,” she added, giving him a small, teasing smile as she opened the second container. “Because we had to try twice,” she added. Billie tilted the second container to him so he could see inside. “Just some fruit,” she explained, placing that box down beside the other. Billie plucked a couple of red grapes from the stem and popped them into her mouth.

One side of his mouth turned up when he pictured her and Kendrick in his kitchen making croissants. There was something adorable about that, and it made him smile. He remembered when he'd visited her and met Kendrick for the first time, recalling that the mustard had been off, but he felt comfortable trying these baked goods because she had helped make them. When she moved his eyes followed what she was doing and saw her shoes falling to the floor. It was a slight movement, it shouldn't have meant much, but his mind was quick to register that she had removed them.

"Okay," he promised to pretend to like them with a breathy laugh and a growing smile. He set the Tupperware she'd handed him down before he had opened it and began to scoot further back on the bed. He wanted to sit next to her, and not turn to look at her, but when he realized he should probably take off his shoes too he hesitated. It wasn't like this was actually her bed anymore, but she had taken her shoes off, and he felt wrong not doing the same. He kicked him off from the ankles, one after the other they bounced on the wood floor and he pushed back to sit with her. He reached for the croissants and became painfully away of the hole in the toe of one of his gray socks. Sliding that foot under his calf he tried to hide it casually.

He took a bite of the croissant and chewed for a moment, smiling as he leaned back on his free hand slightly. "They are good," he said after a second bite. Phillip wasn't a very good judge of what a croissant should taste like but these tasted just fine. They were a little thicker than the ones at Hogwarts, not quite so fluffy he supposed, but they didn't taste at all bad. "What happened to the first batch?" He asked, taking another bite and imagining what could have gone wrong.

Billie cut her croissant in half and buttered it, then spread jam across it neatly. She noted that he didn’t do the same. Plain croissants, she noted silently. She wondered if he liked chocolate ones. Every new thing she was finding out felt like a precious thing, even these admittedly silly little details, and she couldn’t help but obsess over them a bit. She had another grape while she prepared her pastry, but she had to pause what she was doing to look at him as he took his first bite.

He smiled as he chewed, which was either a really good sign or a sign that he was about to tease her for how bad they were. Even in good fun, it made her want to cringe a little. She waited for him to speak before she took a bite of her own one, wanting her mouth to be free so she could speak, whatever his opinion of them was. She smiled when he spoke. Her gaze lingered on his eyes, just in case it was a joke, but she decided that he wasn’t kidding. She honestly felt a little relieved.

“Thank you, Phillip,” she said, beaming at him. “Oh gosh,” she said, shaking her head. “We left them in for too long and they burned,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose a little. The house had been full of smoke. Kendrick had taken responsibility, having been the one who’d set the timer incorrectly but she’d insisted that it was just as much her fault for not double checking it. Every chef in the kitchen is responsible, she remembered saying. She took a bite of her croissant now, and admittedly they were more delicious than she remembered them being. This made her feel more relieved too. "Not too bad," she commented after swallowing, covering her lips with her hand as she spoke.

Phillip smiled when she called him by his full name. Everyone else called him Lip, or Mr. Donnelly, or nothing at all (his preferred), but not her. Even from the beginning, she had always called him Phillip; it had felt special back then just as it did now. He never really liked his name, Pilib didn't exactly roll off the tongue, but when she called him Phillip, it made him feel warm. He was glad it was only her, though, because it made it that much better. Another thing they shared alone, another thing no one else had. It was nice.

When she said oh gosh the way she did, he chuckled; he was pretty sure Billie had no idea how cute she was, but he did. There was something about how she said things that made him smile. That little wrinkle of her nose, the bashful smile, the hair tucking, it was all so Billie, so perfect. He tucked the memory of her beaming at him away and kept listening. He could imagine the two of them in the kitchen with the oven smoking from the burning biscuits.

"Not too bad at all," he said with a shrug. Phillip was far from a foodie. He liked food well enough to keep eating it, but he didn't crave things or try to spice things up. Phillip preferred plain and simple, like this croissant sans butter or jam. He took another bite and chewed silently, feeling more comfortable and less weird about what had happened not long ago. So much so that his mind had started wandering back to the other things they were doing before he'd stopped them. His eyes moved to the ceiling as his thoughts wandered.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Billie." He said after a moment of quiet and after he'd finished the croissant.

Billie took a few small bites, being extra careful with the flaky crumbs. She’d picked quite a messy food, she realised, as some fell onto her white shirt. The blonde ate about half of it, then placed it down neatly in the tupperware container before trying to dust the flaky bits into her hand, which she then pinched and ate too. She caught him looking at the ceiling and wondered what he was thinking.

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving him a small smile as she dusted her hands off, then brushed her skirt off too before readjusting it. “We should go to the greenhouse,” she said, “I always liked it in there. We used to do lots of gardening, I think it was probably her favourite thing.” Billie looked out one of the windows, her pale green eyes finding the top of the greenhouse in the distance. She looked back at Phillip and smiled when she found him looking at her. Her cheeks were a little pink and automatically, she wanted to fix her hair. Again. That was another one of those weird little things to note, she thought – she was self conscious about the way she looked. Never so much as when she wanted to look good for him. Even that thought made her blush.

They were quiet for a moment, making eyes at each other, but she broke the tension with a laugh. Billie leaned on one hand, then tilted her head at him curiously, that little smile – something between teasing and self-aware – still there. He didn’t speak. “Yes?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

He'd finished eating his crossiant before she had but that didn't mean he was particularly chatty or anything. Today had been intense, to say the very least, and he was still reeling from everything that had already happened and everything that still could happen. Phillip hadn't seen this coming, the pair of them, romantic, but it would be a lie to say he hadn't hoped it would happen. He'd thought about it many times, sure, but being here now in real life was so much better than he had imagined. He shifted a little from where he was sitting when she spoke about the greenhouse, his gaze following hers own the window but only for a second. Before he realized it he was turning back from the window and staring at her again.

Phillip had caught himself sneaking glances at her more and more lately, in the last few months they'd spent at Hogwarts, and especially now after their trip to Ireland. He watched her more then he was willing to admit, admiring the way she looked when she was talking or thinking about things. She had so many more expressions than he had noticed before, he was almost disappointed that he had missed them all this time.

"Huh," he said, having thought he'd agreed to the Greenhouse already and then realizing in his stupor he'd forgotten to say anything at all. He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed about losing himself staring at her again. Sheepishly he smiled, shrugging a little, and then nodded again. "Yeah let's go."

It had felt important somehow, to her, in between now and the last time they were together, that they define things more clearly. Of course there was a part of her that wanted labels – Merlin knew she’d daydreamed about being Phillip Donnelly’s girlfriend before! More than once! But when she was here with him things just felt so right and obvious that it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t want to bring it up. If she thought about it, it felt silly – how could she ask something like what am I to you or are we dating, when he made her feel like this? When he looked at her like that?

Billie laughed at his response, a little delighted by it. “You’re staring at me,” she teased softly, tilting her head the other way. She never would have believed it if someone had told her that she’d be here like this, with him, a month ago. They’d only kissed for the first time two weeks ago! And they’d only seen each other once since then! Her eyes flicked to his lips curiously, then back up to his eyes, then quickly away because she knew he’d caught her looking. Everything that was happening was really bizarre to the blonde, but it was really fun too. He was lovely.     

For a brief moment, he felt embarrassed about staring at her and a bit of warmth crept up his neck and to his cheeks but then she mentioned it and he couldn't help but chuckle. He shrugged his shoulder, a laugh of a breath escaping his smiling lips, and then spoke. "I can't help it," he said, a playful tone to his voice but it was an entirely truthful statement. Seeing her like this, in this new scenario, made him realize even more than he already knew that she was strikingly beautiful. She was refined and graceful, classically good looking, but she was so much more than that too. Phillip loved the curious and playful expressions just as much as her meek or serene ones. He could stare at her all day, honestly, and as he thought about it he felt foolish but also it made him tingle.

"Now you are," Phillip replied, the smile on his face growing until it reached his eyes. He'd forgotten all about the weirdness, about where they were, about any pressure he'd put on being here alone with her, and just relaxed. Thinking clearly, (which had been nearly impossible earlier when they were so close), he remembered that Billie was his best friend and he was more comfortable around her than anyone else. He didn't need to feel strange or embarrassed, these things would happen, and they would figure them out together, and oddly enough the teenager was looking forward to that last part. Together.

Silently he wondered for a moment if they were that sort of together. Phillip wanted to ask, wanted to talk to her about it but he felt like if he brought it up it might make things tense again. He wanted them to be something specific to each other, he wanted to define it so it would be real. Phillip had lost so many things, and he rarely wanted anything, but he wanted this. And the idea of her being this with anyone else would drive him crazy. He felt like he was riding some kind of roller coaster, twists and turns, and peaks and falls. His thoughts and emotions fighting for control while he struggled just to keep up with them.

It should have been easy enough to bring up but of course, it wasn't. Instead of just asking, putting his cards on the table as it were, he mentally talked himself out of it. In a matter of seconds, his mind had chipped away all of the comforts he'd felt moments ago and reminded him this was all so new. Uncharted territory. And if he got too possessive he might ruin it.

"Did you, do you want to go?" He said softly, using a thumb to point behind him to the ladder.

“Mm-mm,” she shook her head from side to side, a nuh-uh kind of action. She was smiling, though. Teasing. She wanted to tease more, to get him to smile like that.

“Yes, lets do that,” she said with a small smile. The blonde glanced at her skirt, and the little flaky crumbs there. Then she realised she’d have to put her shoes back on, and shifted towards the end of the bed to do so, even though she felt like she’d only just taken them off. “You can leave those things there,” she said, glancing over at her shoulder as she tied her shoelaces into a neat bow. She leaned back and took another grape, popped it into her mouth, gave him a small smile, and tied her other shoelace. When she was finished, she got to her feet.

“Actually,” she started, moving over to the window nearest the bed. She could see the greenhouse from here; she smiled a bit as the clouds parted a bit and a patch of sunlight caught its corner. The glass reflected the light brightly for a moment, then disappeared as the fast-moving clouds closed once more. She looked back at him curiously. “We could apparate there?” She smiled, a hint of a spark in her eye. He’d been able to do this since November, technically, but for Billie it was still such a novelty to be able to just ask him to take her anywhere.

Phillip followed when she started to get off the bed and her shoes back on. He slipped the sock that had a hole in it into his shoe as quickly as he could, still trying to hide it from her, and then yanked on the tongue when it got pushed inside. Lip rarely untied his shoes to take them off, he just slipped them on and off, breaking the backing down every time he had to squirm to get his ankle in. He laughed a little when she grabbed another grape, her smile was infectious, he had to smile back when she looked at him like that.

Once he'd slipped into both of his shoes, one of them tighter than the other but he couldn't be bothered to untie and redo the laces, Phillip stood up and joined her near the window. The teenager held his breath when she'd said actually, half wondering what she was thinking, mostly hoping she'd suggest they just stay up here and make out some more.

"Apparate, oh, yeah we could do that." He agreed with another little grin, eyes following hers onto the grounds so he could get a good look at where they were going. He had no idea what the inside looked like, the glass panes were a bit hazy and there were vines covering some of them, so he only planned to bring them to the patch of grass just outside the door he could see. Apparating them down a few floors was nothing compared to the distances they had traveled in the last week, he knew his nerves had nothing to do with the magic and everything to do with getting close to her again.

He could have held her hand, it obviously worked for side-along apparition, but Phillip wanted more contact. Moving toward her his hand cupped her chin, finding himself captivated once more by the oceans in her eyes and thinking less about the greenhouse than he should have been. With his other hand resting on her waist, Phillip kissed her intently for a moment before pulling back. He took a breath, pictured the greenhouse, and disapparated them to the lawns.

Well that definitely didn’t look like the kind of look someone gave someone else just before they apparated them somewhere. His fingers tickled her face as he cupped her cheek, and she closed her eyes before he pressed his lips to hers. She might have imagined it, but Billie could almost feel the emotions behind the kiss, a touch of intensity that she moved, belatedly, to match. She was glad for the physical confirmation that whatever awkwardness he'd been feeling before had passed, at least enough for this. He pulled back and she hadn’t opened her eyes before they were apparating.

When they reappeared outside the greenhouse a moment later, she stumbled a bit, falling into him, her hands on his chest for support. She’d been a bit caught up. Bille took a step back, disentangling herself from him, a small, apologetic smile on her face. The long, yellowish grass tickled her ankles.

Outside was a lot cooler than inside. There was a light breeze that blew around her ankles, and raised goosebumps on her neck, a little damp from sweat. She almost shivered a little, even though it wasn’t very cold at all – only cool in comparison. Billie adjusted her hair clip, tucking in stray strands that had come out when… well when they’d been making out. She stole a glance at him before looking up at the greenhouse, but her thoughts definitely had nothing to do with the greenhouse in front of them.

It was strange, she thought, that she’d gone from really believing that he only thought of her as a friend to being pushed up against a bedframe and making out with him. It still kind of felt surreal; they’d only just kissed for the first time two weeks ago and now her shirt was all untucked, creased at the edges (she ran her hands over the bottom of her shirt self-consciously), and she could feel – whether the sensation was real or imagined – where he’d kissed her neck only what, fifteen minutes ago? She really had no good sense of how long they’d been here.

She'd thought that it might feel a little less private outside, and that the breeze might help her clear her head. It was so isolated here, though, and at ground level they couldn't see anything aside from the house and trees – she didn't feel exposed here, she felt like they were the only people for miles. That thought just made her want to kiss him again, though. Billie thought about reaching for his hand, but the physical stuff was so new that she didn't have the courage. "It's pretty, isn't it?" she asked, searching for something to say, still feeling a little flustered from that last, intense kiss. She looked up at the glass wall in front of her, the ornate doors. She didn't move to go in, though, taking a moment to steady herself instead.

Phillip was thankful for the little breeze when they appeared outside in front of the greenhouses. The flush that had crept up his cheeks and the back of his neck cooling off a little when the wind blew past them. He'd felt warm before, when they had been making out, and the cool air helped him clear his mind a little. He wanted to keep thinking about what they had just been doing, little images flashing in his mind's eye as the moments were converted to memories. He felt out of breath just thinking about it, and he wanted to do it again. There was a pull drawing him closer to Billie now, now that they had opened a new door and there were so many more possibilities. Usually, when they were hanging out they spent a lot of time talking, or writing, or sitting in silence but now he had more things to look forward to.

The thoughts clouded his mind, he was smiling recalling them, but he snapped back when she spoke. It was pretty, but her bedroom was firmly decided as his "favorite place" at Maidstone so far. He nodded though, looking at her, and wanting to tell her she was pretty. He followed her gaze to the doors and his eyes trailed along with the overgrown vines and the faded panes of glass. Even in such a state Phillip could tell this place was magical, he imagined all of the weird plants her aunt must have grown in here, imagined Billie inside, he felt like he could picture her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to re-pot some kind of flower.

"Do you want to head in?" He asked, hesitating at the door and not reaching for the knob in case she needed a little more time. He remembered her stopping on the porch, and wondered if this building meant as much to her as the main house. He waited patiently, his eyes trailing back to her and finding their way to her lips. Even right now, as they stood outside a place she hadn't been to since her aunt passed, Phillip was still thinking about kissing her. About their bodies pressed up against each other, about the posts of her bed, the fact that they were alone out here, and all of the other things that came with those thoughts.

“Yes,” she answered simply. After all, why shouldn’t they? She could feel his gaze on her, but she moved forward to reach for the door instead of looking at him. If she looked, she thought, they might not make it inside. The thought made her cheeks pinker again, and she wondered for what felt like the millionth time today if this was just how things were going to be now, if, with her confession, she’d swapped out one type of tension for another. A one-sided type of tension for a bi-directional type. The latter was clearly more powerful, she thought, as her arm brushed his when she passed him to step inside.

The door was a little stiff on its hinges, but Billie was surprised again at how… normal everything looked. She had to keep reminding herself that it had only been a year and a half since she’d been here properly, and that – apparently – things didn’t change that much in such a short period of time. Her boots clipped a little as she stepped onto the flat, terracotta tiles, and the sound echoed against the glass. As the door closed behind Phillip, things went quiet – she could no longer hear the sound of the breeze.

There were plants, still. A lot of them, actually. Billie had taken a couple of little potted plants with her when she’d been back briefly last summer, to collect her things, but of course all of the big ones had stayed here. She hadn’t really been in a good space to properly go through everything at that time; a part of her wanted to check every room now that she was in a better space, and look for any little sentimental treasures she could find.

She moved further inside, her eyes following the shapes of large, flat-leaved plants and longer, stringier vines that hung in pots from wooden beams. The closer to the back of the building they got, the bigger and more overgrown the plants were. There were flowers, too, which made sense since spring had only just passed. Billie ducked under some long, willowy leaves in her path. A lot of the plants were dead, but most of them, she noted, had survived the year of no care. She felt a bit like she was in a dream.

Moving through the door after she did Phillip's arm tingled slightly from where she had brushed against it, he heard the door shut behind him firmly, and got caught up in the moment. He watched her as she moved through the greenhouse. Despite her shoes clicking against the stones, Billie's movements were still so refined, ducking daintily under some hanging vines like she was a current moving downstream. He followed behind, less gracefully, and nearly tripped over a pot that had fallen from one of the planting benches. He stepped over it, green eyes glued to her back as they headed further in.

Phillip was impressed by the size of green space, even though it seemed large from the outside, it felt even more expansive now that they were inside. Everywhere he looked there were plants hanging from the rafters, sitting on the tables, large planters on the floor, and he was surprised by how many seemed to still be thriving. Absently he wondered if there were still charms in place to keep them watered and tended to. He assumed so, but he never paid enough attention to Herbology to be able to name any of the possible enchantments.

Noting that the plants were getting bigger, many of them needing their own solitary pots, as they continued Phillip tried to identify some of them. He didn't pay much attention in class but he was smart enough to know which places could eat him and which plants he could eat. In the magical world, that was a very important thing to know. "Are any of these.. yours?" He asked, wondering if she spent a lot of time in here when she lived at Maidstone.

Later she might admit that she was a little caught up, but right now she wasn’t focused on much aside from the view before her. Well, all around her. She was lost in the smells – a mix of floral and foresty – the details, like little veins running through leaves and the density of the flower petals. She could hear, very faintly, the sound of dripping water, and of course, her own movements. Phillip’s steps faded into the background for her, clumsy as they may have been.

She felt very young all of a sudden. The overgrown plants, most of them taller than her in this section, made her feel very small. It had only been a year and a half, she reminded herself, but a year and a half ago it had been winter. Things had been different then. The greenhouse was kept warm enough with magic – magic that was still firmly in place, she supposed, considering that the plants hadn’t all died last winter, when she’d been at Hogwarts.

Billie felt a little guilty just then, thinking about how all of this could have died while she’d been safe inside the stone walls of Hogwarts. Phillip spoke, and his voice sounded loud against the quiet of the room. She felt exposed again for no reason. Safe and pining, she added silently, finishing the thought she’d had a moment before he’d spoken – pining over him.

“No,” she replied softly, her voice echoing a little less. “Not really.” Billie stopped walking, chastising herself for forgetting to explain things as they went past them. She wasn’t being a very good host. “I helped, though,” she added, turning back to face him, making sure to smile, just a bit. When she’d seen Phillip last summer it had been the first time she’d ever seen a friend outside of school by herself. She’d felt so many things then; a mix of adoration and gratefulness and guilt. Sadness too, of course, but not just sadness.

For some reason, this room felt more haunted to her than the house did, even though there were living things here. Perhaps that was the reason, she thought. It felt more connected to her past – more neglected, too. The house was just a house, which was a strange thing to fathom for a girl who instinctively imbued everything with such deep, sentimental value. The house was just a house, and her old room was a lovely room that she’d spent the last few summers and winters in. But the greenhouse reflected the fact that someone had lived here once, and did no longer. Her chest felt a little tight.

“Can we go back outside, actually?” she asked after a moment, smoothing the hem of her shirt and then clasping her hands together so she wouldn’t fidget. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be in here.” She frowned a little, knowing that he’d understand but still feeling a little ashamed that it was true anyway, for some unknowable reason.