my errors in your scars; anxiety panorama { phillip }

They carried on in silence, and every step had Phillip's mind turning. He thought to say something, to demand something, but he was quiet instead. What could he possibly say that he hadn't already expressed so many times? Or at least, in his mind, Phillip thought he had been very clear about his feelings. He felt left out when she spent all of her time with her friends and not with him. Jealous that she was a Prefect with Killian and missed the way that things had been over summer. Of course, he had realized they wouldn't be; Phillip wasn't unrealistic, but he had not thought things would change this much.

Sometimes, he felt like they weren't even dating.

Billie had OWL classes, so not only did he rarely seen her during the school day, but she also wrote in their linked journals far less frequently. Phillip barely paid attention to his classes, so instead, he spent half his lessons staring at the blank parchment and wondering what Billie was doing. Rationally he knew she was probably studying or paying close attention, but his mind always drifted the longer it took her to reply. Was she laughing at something Killian or the loud girls had said? Or perhaps she was listening to Barbara recount a quiet story about her weekend? It didn't matter; he was jealous either way.

Even when they managed to meet in the hallways, kissing his girlfriend in public was typically out of the question. Phillip had not minded at first because there was plenty of time for that later, but now there was very little time for anything.

Following her around the corner, his hands in his pockets, Phillip sighed quietly but said nothing. A thousand thoughts and no words.

Her anxieties built themselves into complicated structures in her mind, and she fumbled to take them apart. She couldn’t deconstruct more quickly than her worries were building. Was it her fault? Should he have tried harder? Maybe it had been foolish of her to try so hard to bring her boyfriend and friends together. Maybe it was better to keep everything separate. A part of her — selfish, she was starting to think — had thought that having Phillip and the others get to know each other a little better might make things easier for her. If he was more comfortable with them then maybe they could even spend a little time as a group; she could tick off both socialising with the others and spending time with him. Maybe she could force a way to please everyone at once.

And it was probably very stupid of her, but she’d thought that Phillip might feel less worried about Killian if he actually saw him — and them, their friendship — in real life. It was easy to think something into something it wasn’t, and easier again if you only had other people’s words and your own brain to paint the picture. Of course, it had all failed miserably and now Billie felt… hurt? She was probably overreacting. Billie glanced at her boyfriend out of the side of her eyes; Phillip was obviously upset.

She couldn’t help but end up erring unrelentingly on the side of charitable interpretation, especially for him. She couldn’t commit to any bad thought.

They were almost at the bottom of the steps up to Ravenclaw tower and she found her feet slowing to a stop. “Wait,” she breathed suddenly, her heart beating rapidly. Her voice sounded so small, even as it echoed in the empty hallway. She needed things to be right, now. “Phillip, I, I’m sorry.” She touched his arm, wishing he wasn’t wearing long sleeves; she wanted to touch him. Reassurance for them both. He stilled, turning to her as she was asking him nonverbally to do. “I’m really sorry about tonight, It’s my fault.”

It had never happened with Billie before this year, but suddenly Phillip found himself falling quickly into old habits. He was gearing up for a fight when it would have been more productive (and less hurtful) to have a conversation. Instead of telling her why he was worried, he skipped ahead in the dialogue alone, which was unfair to Billie. Aside from doing all of the things she was supposed to do, Billie had done very little to convince Phillip his worries were valid. She had nothing to apologize for, and honestly, he hadn't expected her to. Phillip had no idea what he wanted her to say, what would make it better, but he was sure it wasn't that.

He slowed to a stop as she did, and her words had him falling silent for another moment. His face softened, but only just. He was still jealous about the time she wasn't spending with him; he still disliked her friends and that she expected him to want to hang out with them, but he didn't think it was all her fault either. Phillip was angry, he jumped to conclusions and often thought the worst of people, but Billie had always been the exception. She was the only good habit he had.

"No, it's fine," It wasn't, but it was the only thing he could find to say. Saying he forgave her would mean agreeing that she was at fault, and he didn't necessarily believe that. Phillip blamed everything else for keeping them apart, but not Billie. He shrugged one shoulder, sighing again as he looked at her. Seeing the expression on her face, the way she looked up at him, he began to realize that he wasn't the only one hurting from the situation.  "I'm sorry too." And he supposed that part was genuine.

Her heart raced. No, it’s fine, he said, and though he was dismissing her apology, it wasn’t defensive. Phillip could be defensive — had been all night, actually — but here, alone, his words didn’t have an edge.

So, because he wasn’t as closed as he could have been, and because him being not-too-defensive felt like almost like an open door, all of her feelings came rushing in at once; anxiety, fear, care, a need for reassurance, and, most of all — relief. “It’s not,” she said quickly, her hands moving to rest on his chest where they felt like they belonged. She moved a little closer, her arms tucked between them. Any uncharitable thoughts about him or his behaviour had evaporated already; she needed him to know she loved him. Needed things to be okay again. Needed this now.

“No, don’t,” she breathed, shaking her head quickly, insistently. “It wasn’t nice,” she said, “and it’s my fault, and I’m really sorry.” She pressed her fingers into his shirt a little, an urgent look in her eye as she willed him to understand how strongly she felt.

Phillip didn't want to be in this situation, but the teenager knew that didn't make a difference. It never did. In a perfect world, Billie would have had time for him, her friends, her Prefect duties, and the ridiculous amount of studying OWLs required, but the world was far from it, and Phillip was smart enough to know that. Even if he didn't want to ask her to make a choice, he also did. It was selfish and unfair, but he didn't want to sacrifice his time with Billie so that she could spend more time with her friends. This group of friends seemed to pop up out of nowhere, loud and Gryffindory and ruining the peaceful little bubble he and Billie had once shared.

It was no secret that Phillip rarely liked being around people, large groups even less so, but he should have been more willing to meet Billie halfway. She had gone to get ice cream over the summer with Winifred and Marin, though, granted, Phillip hadn't wanted to go to that either. So he should have been more accomodating when she invited him to eat with her group of friends. Deep down, he probably knew that, but upfront, he was still jealous and feeling off from the whole conversation, and the strain showed on his tired features.

And then she was apologizing again, and while it might have made sense for that to offer him some relief, it only made him feel worse about the whole thing. It wasn't Billie's fault she was likable; he understood why she had new friends and was given a Prefect's badge; Merlin knew she deserved it more than anyone. But it wasn't his fault either, he was in love with her, and he wanted her all to himself. It was what it was, and pretending otherwise would have been a lie. Billie's fingers pressed into his chest reminded him to say something, anything, but Phillip only nodded. It wasn't often that Billie asserted herself, and while this wasn't precisely forceful, there was a sense of uncommon strength in her words, and Phillip felt it.

"It's okay, really," He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her a tiny bit closer and then even closer yet. They were relatively alone in this hallway, but it was still the middle of a corridor, which was typically not the sort of place he'd pull her up against him, but he couldn't help himself. Emotions had a way of morphing, and the anger and jealousy he felt moments ago was evolving into need, feeding off the urgency in her words, and all he wanted to do was forget about everything and everyone else for a moment. He wanted to be back in that bubble where only the two of them existed. Phillip lowered his face down to hers until their lips met.

The relief made her want to cry. She hated fighting, hated making him feel bad. Why had she done that? Why had she phrased it like she had — Do you even know their names? It took her a moment to realise she actually hadn’t said it, not exactly like that anyway. But she’d felt it, the unusual, unnatural desire to be confrontational. And wasn’t that the same thing?

She knew he hadn’t had a good time, she thought, and she’d let her own bad night cloud her vision.

He wrapped his arms around her and she immediately felt a touch breathless, like she’d been anticipating this the whole time (which was clearly not true; she’d been anticipating something that felt a lot more like rejection). Her adrenaline, fear of rejection, her neediness — it all shifted when he kissed her. The kiss was grounding. Her need for validation, reassurance, proof that he did, in fact, still love her, channelled themselves into something that was a bit more explicit and simple. Merlin and Morgana, there was really nothing like having him want her, was there? She just needed to kiss him.

So Billie kissed him back. She slid her hands up his chest, leaning in eagerly in case he meant for the kiss to be short and sweet. Her fingertips curved over his shoulders, finding their way to the back of his neck so she could urge him closer. She deepened their kiss, pressed her body up against him. She wasn’t usually so… Responsive in public. At school. Not that there was anyone around, of course, but it wasn’t very late, and Phillip was such a private person, and Billie was private plus conservative when it came to public displays of affection. The idea of a teacher telling them off or something was quite mortifying to the witch, but none of that felt like it mattered compared to the urgency she felt right now.

Nothing felt solved; there were no clear solutions or answers for what had just happened between them. Plenty of things were still hanging in the air, and indeed they would come back to haunt the seventh year later, but right now, being close to Billie let him forget for a moment. Her hands moved up around his neck, and Phillip moved forward to close whatever distance was left between them. His eyes closed, and his hands pressed into the small of her back, keeping her close. Everything about his movements was a little more rushed than usual. Partly because he was scared to pause, as though the moment might disappear if he did, but there was more to it than that. Some part of him needed to hold her close, to kiss her and remind himself that she was his, that these feelings weren't one-sided, and that all of those dark thoughts were just thoughts.

They might not have settled the fight they were having; whose fault it was or what happened next seemed irrelevant now. Phillip might not have liked her friends or her wanting him to be around them, but they certainly knew how to meet halfway when it came to doing this. This part was easy. Billie deepened the kiss first, and Phillip's heart raced to keep up. As if nothing else existed but the two of them, Phillip found himself willing to forget everything they had just been arguing about. That anxious knot in his stomach was untwisting as he brought them closer to the stone wall behind him; the rough tapestry was pressing into his uniform.

It didn't matter that they were in the corridor or that anyone might come through a door and see them; Phillip wasn't going to let her go. Thoughts silenced, he focused only on the tangibles. Phillip's fingers moved to her face, tucking one of the loose curls back behind her ear. The teenager took a rushed breath before kissing her fervently once more.

It wasn't healthy, but Billie was extremely unaware. To her it simply felt good to get such solid reassurance, to be wanted, to find common ground. She hated not being on the same side; it made her extremely anxious and came for her self-esteem like almost nothing else. So, suddenly, it didn’t matter at all to her that she’d had bad feelings earlier; as long as it felt like he wasn’t mad at her, then it was gone. Those needs didn't seem so important, and could be tucked away. And if she needed more reassurance that he still cared, still wanted her, then she was asking for it (nonverbally) right now.

Neither of them were particularly inclined to initiate much physical stuff now that they were back at school. After having whole houses to themselves all summer, coming to a place full of teenagers and teachers — their own bedrooms shared with many others — every time things did get a little more heated, it was extremely distracting. Not that it was heated per say, Billie thought distantly. They were just kissing! But...

He moved back — was she pushing forward? She didn’t know, she just followed, leaning into him as he pinned himself between her and the wall. Her arms stretched up over his shoulders, her hands crossing behind his neck, between his skin and the stone. The shift was abrupt; one second she was apologising and the next she had him against a wall, kissing him like it was summer again and they had hours to themselves, but it felt right. Like they were still communicating, just not with words anymore. She pushed up on her toes, pulling back only to kiss a trail up his neck, her hands moving back down his chest, then down to guide his hands to her waist.

"Wish we weren't at school," she murmured against his skin, just below his ear.

It was hard to tell if he had pulled her toward the wall or if she had pushed him; their movements were in sync in a way they hadn't been since school had resumed. All of the summer, it had felt like they were together on everything. The two of them against the world. ANd it would be a lie to say Phillip hadn't become addicted to that feeling. The idea of knowing someone else was out there, feeling what you felt, knowing what you knew, and understanding, was intoxicating. But then school started, and every day it felt like there was something else adding distance between them.

There was no distance now.

Phillip ignored the way the tapestry itched at the back of his head as he leaned against the wall and focused solely on Billie leaning against him. Their hips were meeting as best they could with the height difference and his heart racing. All he wanted to do was this, to feel Billie pressed up against him and forget the rest of the entire world existed. Billie led his hands down from her face to her waist, and Phillip took it from there. His hands were so tempted to move underneath the soft fabric of her blouse. "Wish we weren't at school," She had said as if even their thoughts were on the same wavelength, and Phillip could barely catch his breath as he pulled his lips from hers.

"You and me both." He answered between breaths, his fingertips teasing at the folds of the blouse tucked into her skirt. If only they were back at Maidstone and not stuck at school where nitwit adults assigned them a curfew. Phillip only had a few months left, thankfully, but it was always a sobering reminder when he thought about how long Billie had before graduation.

His hands were teasing the soft fabric of her shirt, where it tucked into her skirt. Though it was cool enough for robes indoors tonight, her mind was immediately cast somewhere back in June, her back against a large, warm glass window and his fingertips brushing her waist, just so. Her heart was racing in both realities, her cheeks flushed, breathing heavy. What felt like an immeasurable amount of time waiting to be alone with him again, plus the relief of resolving… well, maybe nothing, but having tension feel like it was resolved, blended into a huge rush.

And it was so out of character for her to be feeling like this somewhere they could be caught. 

She slowed herself, trying to catch her breath into the side of his neck for a moment before she pulled back far enough to look at him, flat on her feet now. Her hands lingered on his collarbones, her fingers curled just a little over his shoulders. She gave him a tentative smile. “Should we go up?” she breathed, a little dazed.

Every part of Phillip felt like it had been expertly tuned to understand Billie's frequency. For the last few weeks, it was like they had been on different wavelengths, but right here, right now, they were the same. She moved, and he moved to meet her; every breath was timed, their lips in sync. Phillip had missed this. He had missed her—his girlfriend. The world slipped away in the same way it had all summer until the only thing left was the two of them. Phillip's hand gripped her hips, so desperate to pull the thin fabric loose from the hem of the skirt regardless of how inappropriate that may have been. They were both entirely private, not the sort for public displays, but those reservations had to take a back seat at some point. Phillip needed this; he needed her.

Billie mentioned going up to the tower, and suddenly Phillip was reminded of where they were and how it very much was not the summer anymore. He sighed, the disappointment evident in the tone, and pulled slightly away. Phillip pressed his forehead against hers, he was out of breath, and the last thing he wanted to do was stop, but he knew she was right. They weren't back at Maidstone, they didn't have the hallway to themselves, and as much as he wanted it to be otherwise, her shirt was very much tucked into her skirt. "No," He whispered, but it was a feeble attempt and followed by the smallest of smirks.

"Okay, okay," He breathed, finally pulling away from her. His hands lingered on her waist, some part of him still feeling the need to cling to her, to know she was his.

His head leaned against hers, making her skin buzz where they touched. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose, sighing silently through her lips. She’d already memorised his smell, but it didn’t hurt to do it a little more. Phillip was catching his breath, and that thought made her want to kiss him hard again, and steal it.

No.

He wanted to stay.

Billie felt goosebumps ripple down from the back of her neck; a frisson of anticipation. She didn’t want to go back upstairs right now, either, far too aware of his hands on her body, far too aware of the way they were standing still; so close, with him against the wall. She wanted to be alone, too. Billie hoped he could infer that; it was far too improper for her to voice those particular thoughts more than she already had here, now, but she wanted him to know.

His smirk made her smile, her blush deepening as she finally straightened, no longer leaning her weight against his chest. His hands remained on her waist, but she felt like she could breathe a little easier, standing like this, with a few centimetres in between them. She was remembering where she was, remembering that any teacher could take a turn down the corridor any second now and find them. She was also remembering exactly how good it felt to be so close; she was quietly counting down the days until winter break.

She smiled softly at him, just a little tease in the expression as she glanced at his lips, then back at his eyes. She took a small step back, his fingers trailing as she quietly encouraged him to move forward so he could keep touching her.

Phillip had not always hated being at Hogwarts, but after everything that happened in his first year and then the dome, it felt more like a prison than a school. And even though those years had been some of the worst of his life, the teenager somehow managed to hate the restraint of Hogwarts more than ever right in this very moment. When all he wanted to do was be closer to Billie, and its publicness kept them from doing so, he wished he was already graduated more than ever. Soon enough, he would be free of the castle, but that wouldn't end the problem.l Billie still had two more years, two more years spent with Killian and her new friends; it was more than he wanted to think about.

There were plenty of obstacles behind them and just as many ahead, but right now, Phillip felt strong. With Billie in his arms, and those beautiful green eyes looking at him the way that she did, as if she thought he had all the answers, Phillip felt like everything would work out. It was a feeling of hope he wasn't used to. And it made his heart race almost as much as the feeling of her hips pressed into his. He didn't want to stop, but he knew they had to.

Billie pulled away, but only just, and Phillip appreciated her hesitation. As if she silently agreed with his need to stay close, it was a reassurance he desperately craved. Phillip pushed away from the wall, keeping the same few inches from Billie like some invisible string connected them, and his eyes met hers. He watched as her greens fell to his lips, and his smile increased. For a long time now, he had felt a connection to Billie. Even before it was romantic, it was something strong and solid and unforced. Sometimes they would spend hours saying very little, but Phillip always felt like they were on the same page. And for someone who hated talking unnecessarily, it was a comfort.

"How many days until break?" He asked, his hand finally moving from her waist to wrap around her hand and squeeze tenderly. Phillip knew how many, but he asked anyway.

He followed her; she smiled a little, pleased. “Too many,” she teased gently. Billie let him intertwine their fingers, immediately missing having him closer, doing more than hold her hand. She wished she could share that thought with him without having to actually say it out loud; she felt like he’d want to know, would like the wording of it, but it was too improper for a girl like her to say.

“Two, three weeks,” she said, amending her first answer, actually thinking about the question this time. She had goosebumps, her own imagination making her blush. She’d already agreed to a couple of things with the others, but she’d made sure to leave space; her sleepover with Nola was only one night, so she could see Phillip in the morning or afternoon on the first day, then maybe have dinner or go to the movies on the second day… And so on. She hoped it was less burdensome for Kendrick to have her out of the house all of the time, rather than moreso because Phillip came over sometimes, too.

“Coming over for Christmas lunch?” she asked, tugging his hand as she stepped away from the wall again. It was teasing too, though, in a way that only he would understand. Something about being family-less. Something about Christmastime. A kind of humour only people like them would understand. “Maybe we can spend some time at yours,” she said, quieter, saying more with her eyes than she was with her lips.

'Too many' was the correct answer, and Phillip felt like it was going to be forever. He had always been impatient, but even more so these days. In reality, two or three weeks wasn't that long, especially with how busy Billie was, but it was going to stretch on, and Phillip just knew it. He planned to take advantage of the free time break would offer them, though. His fingers lacing with hers, Phillip pushed away from the wall and pulled her toward the final small corridor that led to the Ravenclaw eagle knocker. They weren't far, having already climbed the tower, so it was more like a landing, but Phillip hoped it stretched on forever.

"Christmas lunch? Yeah," Had he forgotten? Not entirely, had he hoped she forgot? Sort of. Phillip would love to spend the holidays with Billie, but only with her. Kendrick was pleasant enough, and he didn't mind their dog, but Phillip would always choose Billie only if he had the choice. He remembered the holiday they had both stayed at Hogwarts; it was one of his favorite memories, maybe even the only good one he left of Christmastime. Phillip nodded, giving her hand a little squeeze to prove he was looking forward to Christmas Lunch and reminded himself that lunch was the shortest of meals. It wasn't like she had invited him for dinner.

And then she brought up another plan, and a new expression crossed on to his face. Something vaguely dreamy, he liked the way that she had asked. "Maybe we can spend a lot of time there." He countered playfully. Billie had given him the key to the Maidstone house, and at first, he almost hadn't accepted the offer. Phillip had nowhere else to go, he would never go back to Keithcairn, and he couldn't keep asking to stay with Wini over the breaks, so it had been an ideal option. But really, it was the idea of having somewhere private to spend time with Billie that had motivated him most.

More than ever, he wished they were there now, and his heart raced a little as he let his mind wander.