let the wolves enjoy my bones [perdita]

Perdita watched him clean up, mesmerised by the action, only to blink herself back into reality. So he cleaned up after himself, big deal. She focused on his hands. They should be on her. There shouldn't be any conversations about bacon or if they could see each other later. "Thanks," she replied with a quick smile. While she could cook, she wouldn't say she was a cook. She could make him dinner? She frowned. No.

Torrence was up and away after he'd downed his coffee and Perdita opened her mouth to say something but she stopped. Once he was out of sight, she let out a groan. Perdy pitched forward, elbows on the table and her head in her hands, eyes clenched shut as she felt her heart pound in her chest. "What are you doing?" She whispered to herself as she slid her hands through her hair, her fingers gripping the strands so tight that her knuckles turned white.

This was bad. This was really bad. In a quiet and rising panic, she didn't notice that he'd put his shoes on. Or that he was still missing a shirt. Her eyes trailed from his feet to his face and she frowned in confusion. He'd said no. It was fair enough, Torrence was allowed to change his mind, it didn't matter really because she'd find something else to do. But that wasn't really the point.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise and she didn't bother to suppress the pleasurable tingle that shot down her spine and made her toes curl. Perdy swallowed and gave a nod as he leaned over her. Her eyes fluttered closed at his kiss, one of her hands coming up to curl around his wrist gently. It was soft but too brief and she opened her eyes to see him standing so close but almost ready to leave. She tilted her head up to kiss the heel of his hand before she picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip as she looked at him - had he always been so handsome? Or was she just sleep deprived?

"Alright," she echoed Torrence with a soft smile. She needed to get her shit together and fast. She might feel more human after taking a bath. Maybe she could have a glass of wine or something? Or she could just chill out and have a nice walk around Edinburgh without acting like a crazy person - she could do that. This was fine. "I'll see you later," she assured him.

He watched her press her lips against the heel of his hand and he felt the pull towards her, that strong, raw feeling that perhaps made him think he should pull her into the shower here with him instead of going back to her place. No, not a good idea. He had somehow managed not to piss her off with last night's behavior and maybe even convinced her to try it his way again so he knew it he stayed around long enough, he would fuck it up. Better to go now and get his brain together. "Two hours," he said over his shoulder, his wand in hand, as he walked toward the foyer and disappeared a few seconds later, throwing himself into the nothingness that was apparation.

---

When he was back outside her flat, a vastly different picture than he had been last night in his drunken stupor. He was showered, scruff trimmed, wearing clean clothes for what felt like the first time in weeks and he was an hour and a half later than he promised. What did it matter anyway, she said she wasn't busy.

He only knocked on the door instead of apparating in because he was vaguely aware that he might have crossed some sort of line last night and he wanted to make up for it. Or at least show her he wasn't a dick 100% of the time. No promises though. When she opened the door, he greeted her with a slight smile and a "ready to go?" as he took a step back down her stairs.

In all honesty, what was she expecting to happen? He was late. The cup of tea she'd made herself had since turned cold as she was fixated on watching the hands of the clock tick forward. After forty minutes past the arranged time, Perdita gave up and decided to clean the entire house to distract her. She'd picked up the broken bits of the mug she'd smashed last night, cleaned the pan and the plates and the surfaces. She'd washed the sheets and remade her bed. She'd  a lot of fun trying to work out how to use the hoover and screamed in horror at the noise it made when the "on" switch was pressed.

Perdita decided she was going to go out instead - she wasn't one of those women (she hoped), she wasn't going to wait at home just in case Torrence returned. She was going to go shopping, maybe stop by and get something she could make for her dinner later on tonight. She had a hankering for something hearty, maybe a big bowl of pasta or simply a plate of crispy roast potatoes. She might as well. Clearly, her standards were already low.

The knock at the door caused her to glance up in mild surprise. He was polite enough to knock instead of shouting obscenities through her letterbox. At least he'd actually turned up, she couldn't be that mad at him.

Clearing her throat, she fluffed her hair as she tucked the jumper into the waistband of her jeans, pausing by the front door as she slipped on her heels and grabbed a jacket before opening the door. If she owned a pair of trainers, she would have worn those to prove a point.  She paused. She couldn't decide if Torrence looked nice or if he simply looked better, so she didn't say anything and simply smiled back.

"Yep," Perdita replied quickly as she closed the door behind her and followed him down the steps, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, purely so she could fight the urge to touch him. "Got everything you need?" She asked, fully expecting to have to wait outside of whatever places he was ducking into. Things were still a bit stilted, so she walked slightly behind him as they headed off, long fingers absently tucking her hair behind her ears. "Looks like it might rain," she began conversationally and hating every second.

Mmm, she was wearing pants. A rare treat. He was a bit distracted, letting her walk down her steps in front of her so he could fully appreciate the fit, biting his lips and wondering if she had worn these on purpose just to distract him. Either way, he wasn't complaining exactly.

But her short reply and small smile in greeting made him pause, his eyes narrowed, as he tried to guess at her mood. "Yeah I'm good," he said as he nodded at the small black leather messenger bag he had over his shoulder that he had stopped by his shop to grab and fill. "You alright?" he asked even though he knew it was dumb. It was like inviting trouble and he knew that, but it had slipped out before he had a chance to stop himself.

His long legs brought him quickly round the corner to the alley behind her flat where he often apparated out of sight and he trailed a hand over her forearm before he pulled her hand out of her back pocket so he could wrap his fingers around hers. "Ready?" he asked, his blue eyes meeting hers just before he apparated, pulling her through the nothingness with him and steadying her as they landed in another back alley, but this one in Edinburgh.

It was misty here, moisture hanging in the air that foretold of rain any second, but they were safe for now at least. "Have a few errands and then we can grab a bite," he offered as he took her hand again and steered her down the alley toward a shop with a sign so faded it was barely readable and an interior so dark it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust, the door creaking shut behind them. He leaned in to Perdita, his lips at her ear, as he warned her. "Don't touch a thing. I'm serious," he said lowly before he pulled back and gave her a look.

Then he dropped her hand and strode toward the back counter, his eyes on the grizzled shop owner who had slithered from the back at the sound of the door.

Perdita glanced at the bag he was carrying and paused. She wanted to know what was inside it but it was a proverbial Pandora's Box - it probably contained a lot of bad stuff that she was best not knowing about. "Fine," she answered him quickly in response with a nod and a smile. She wasn't fine but who really cared? Perdy wasn't sure she did any more. She was annoyed and confused and she had a headache but she was trying her best to be easy-breezy; she didn't want a fight.

If she didn't tell Torrence anything then realistically, he couldn't get mad at her. At least, that made sense in her head. Perdita trailed after him and his touch caught her by surprise. Her eyes watched his movements and she felt herself swallow, letting him take her hand. The motion was so fluid and so soft, she didn't think she could stop it, even if she wanted to, her eyes dropping to their joined hands before she found herself in the Scottish capital.

She placed a hand on Torrence's arm as he helped her stand upright and flashed him a quick smile of thanks. "Sounds good," she said quickly, attempting to still be light and breezy. Perdita decided she was going to pay for lunch, or at the very least, offer to split the bill. Just to make it clear that there were no expectations.

Perdita shivered as the chill set in. It was much cooler than London up here and the coldness was damp, the type that seeped into bones. She was glad Torrence was holding her hand still because Perdy didn't like this. At all. In fact, she stopped walking briefly before he tugged on it to keep her moving forwards. She looked over her shoulder as a sense of being watched tingled down her spine. She was just being silly...right?

The air inside the shop was thick and heavy as she blinked into the dim light. It smelled like leather and tobacco and the very particular scent of musk that reminded her of old books. Torrence's warning made her eyebrows arch as the overwhelming urge to touch everything made her fingers twitch. "Okay, okay," she whispered with wide eyes, holding her hands up to show she understood as she caught sight of the shopkeeper. Now there was a nefarious looking fellow indeed.

Perdita waited until his back was turned before rolling her eyes as she backed up. Something was glinting at her in the darkness and she turned, momentarily mesmerised. They were a delicate pair of earrings and judging by the style, she assumed Edwardian, sitting daintily on a cushion. The emerald green colour seemed to stand out in the gloom and she drew closer while Torrence was occupied. With her hands on her knees, she leaned in and tilted her head, almost in a trance. Funny - she'd never really liked the colour green.

Torr nodded once, twice at her 'fine' and let it go. He wasn't sure what the fuck was going on in her head, but he was at least smart enough to know that he did not want to ask for more details whenever a woman said 'fine.' If she didn't want to tell him, he was just as fine not knowing and he refused to admit that he actually did want to know.. Whatever.

The task at hand of bartering with McCormick in his dim and dingy shop distracted him. He was in here maybe three, four times a year and yet this arse still made it difficult each time. But there weren't many people who had access to what he did and while the shop was filled with baubles and shiny bits with pretty price tags, Torr knew where his real income came from. Assholes like him who were willing to spend galleons on rare items that weren't exactly legal. He glanced over his shoulder once, tracking Red as she walked around the shop, making sure she was heeding his warning before he turned back to the grizzled wizard.

"Another three months supply, cut the bullshit. You know I'm good for it," Torr told the man, his voice quiet but sharp. Apparently everyone was out to be difficult today. He gave the man a hard stare and all he got in return was a slick smirk and a scoff of a laugh before the old man turned and wheezed into the back to get what Torr asked for. Fucking finally.

Torr half-turned to look over his shoulder again at Perdita and almost swore when he saw what she was doing. He was at her side less than two seconds later. "What the fuck did I tell you?" he hissed, her hand that had been reaching out toward the emerald earrings held tightly in his hand as he glared at her, his chest feeling tight.

The air in the shop felt heavy - almost uncomfortably so. It was chilly in here, too, and it caused Perdita to wrap her arms across her chest and rub her arms for warmth. Over her shoulder, she watched Torrence in deep conversation with a man who could only be described as iniquitous. She frowned as she wished for him to hurry up. She didn't like it here but her eyes were drawn back to the earrings as though they were a siren song.

They seemed to glint in the feeble light, calling her to creep closer. And she did. They were very pretty. Not usually her style, Perdita exclusively wore diamonds but gosh, what a showstopper. She chewed on her lower lip. She couldn't see a price tag but that didn't matter. Perdita didn't want to buy them, she wanted to steal them. The urge was sudden and overwhelming.

It was no longer a case of wanting the earrings, she needed the earrings. With her fingers outstretched and tantalisingly close, Torrence snatched them away. She turned to face him, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she stared at him. Perdy could see his mouth moving but she couldn't hear anything. There was a faint buzzing in her ears, muffled, like she was underwater. She gazed at him, unblinking, mouth slightly open before she suddenly snapped back into it.

"What?" She asked Torrence, her cheeks pink as she blinked rapidly, her eyes moving from his face to the hand he was holding and then back up again. Her skin was tingling as she shivered, suddenly cold again as she glanced at the emeralds with a frown. "I don't --" she began before she swallowed; she couldn't remember anything from the last couple of minutes.

"Sorry," she apologised to Torrence with a weak smile, her focus still on the earrings. "I, er," she stammered as she shook her head. Everything seemed…off. Distorted. Warped. Unbalanced. Her legs felt heavy. "I'm going to wait outside," she proposed as she delicately tried to pull her fingers out of his vice-like grip.

He glared down at her, squeezing her fingers between his in a tight grip, irritation buzzing through him. Why couldn't she just fucking listen? For once?

Torr knew she liked jewelry, but he had literally said not two minutes ago that she shouldn't fucking touch anything because--- His dark brows knitted together as he noticed a difference in her gaze. His cobalt blue eyes darted between hers as he tuned into her. Her gaze seemed unfocused even though she was looking right at him and there was that expression that he couldn't quite name, but it wasn't one he usually saw on her face. He watched as she glanced at the emerald earrings again and he got a sick feeling that made his stomach flip.

"What the fuck did I tell you, Red," he said lowly as he took a step closer and nudged her face back to face him instead of the earrings. "What's going on, what's wrong." His tone was angry, hard, he refused to let himself think it was worry.

She tried to pull away, giving some excuse of waiting outside and he was having none of that. He stopped her with a hand on her waist, refusing to let go of her hand as he hollered for McCormick. "The earrings. What are they?" he demanded as the grizzled wizard limped out toward them, Torr's look unforgiving as he held Perdita in place. He had to know what the fuck he was dealing with here. He glanced down at Perdita. Was she trembling? Fuck! "Now, McCormick. I don't have all fucking day."

As Torrence turned her face towards his, Perdita didn't resist. She looked him in the eye but she wasn't really seeing anything, or at least, she wasn't focusing. She didn't know what was wrong but it definitely wasn't right. He was mad, though, even in her dazed state. She could feel it. This wasn't her fault and she gave her hand a tug in a vain effort to get him to leave - she just wanted to go home now. She didn't want to get lunch. She wanted to sleep on her sofa.

It was like a recovery after a bout of flu. Perdy was weak and shaking as she stood slightly behind Torrence, almost as though the earrings had some sort of energy-sucking forcefield. Torrence called for the shopkeeper and she jumped in surprise, her cheeks pink as she felt her breathing speed up. Not knowing what else to do, she simply threaded her fingers through his, not minding the pain of the grip he had on them.

Perdy liked the hand on her hip and without it, she thought she might keel over. She stepped towards him, frightened, using him as a human shield. "Let's go," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Somehow, she managed to keep her eyes focused on the shopkeeper and resisted the glance over her shoulder at the pretty earrings again.

Maybe it wasn't anything to do with the jewellery. Maybe she just hadn't eaten enough breakfast. Her hands were slick and her lips were pale as she swallowed, clinging on to Torrence's hand like her life depended on it. There wasn't any air in this shop. It was stuffy, suffocating, smothering. With her free hand, she brushed her hair back from her clammy forehead, her eyes darting around the antiquities.

"I just --" she began but she didn't have enough air in her lungs to spit her words out. "I want to leave," she finally managed as she backed away, not caring if either man tried to stop her. "Now."

Her gaze was distant and her blue eyes seemed dull and dim, her cheeks flushed. It made him cold, every muscle in his body locking down, his spine snapping straight as she trembled before him. He didn't let her hand go even as she moved her hand beneath his, belatedly realizing she was threading her fingers through his and he allowed it, grasping her firmly.

Torr felt her step into him, curling herself against his chest and he raised his arm from her side to wrap around her back as he ignore her plea to leave. He had to know what the fuck they were dealing with. His eyes met McCormick's with an icy stare. "What are they?" he demanded of the shopkeeper who just him an unconcerned shrug as he leaned against his gnarled serpent-headed cane. "Just go them in, don't know much more than you do," McCormick told him and Torr's hand tightened around hers imperceptibly. "The previous owner did seem to want to get rid of them and quickly," the shopkeeper added and Torr knew what that meant. Nothing good.

His questions were fast and sharp, needing more details because whatever they were, Torr knew how fucked up cursed jewelry could be. Except McCormick didn't get a chance to answer because Perdy began backing away and Torr tried to pull her back toward him, but he saw the wildness in her eyes, the urgency, and his only thought was to move with her.

"Let's go then," he told her, taking her hand again and wrapping his other arm closely around her waist before he glanced at the shopkeeper. "I'll be back later and you better have answers," he warned before he kicked open the door with the toe of his boot and pulled her out into the chilly Edinburgh air, walking her a few steps down the alley until the shop was well behind them. He stopped and turned to face her, this thumb and index finger gripping her chin and tilting her face up towards him. "What's wrong, Perdy? Tell me what's going on."

Perdy wasn't listening. Something was obviously going on between the men but she did feel Torrence's fingers relent beneath hers. Were the earrings cursed? She felt iffy. Her brain was foggy and her knees were weak but she hadn't even touched them, let alone try them on. She was staring at the floor, fascinated by how the wooden floorboards lined up, as though she'd never seen it before. She swallowed as her vision swayed.

As he agreed to leave, she nodded, barely a movement. If she could run, she would. The door slammed open as Torrence kicked it, nearly coming off the hinges in response. She tripped after him, every fibre of her being seemed to want to drag her backwards and into the shop. If he hadn't been here with her, right now, she didn't know what would happen.

They stopped and Perdy keeled forward at the waist, inhaling quick lungfuls of delicious Scottish air. Her hair fell over her face as she panted like an animal, her eyes wide in panic as she tried to breathe deeply, only to have her breath catch in her throat and make her cough. With a hand on her chest, she was alarmed to feel her heartbeat thrumming through her collarbone. Oh this was bad.

The sheen of sweat on her forehead was cooling rapidly in the fresh air and caused her to shiver before Torrence very gently forced her to look at him. "I don't know," she admitted with wide eyes, letting them flick over his shoulder and down the deserted alleyway.

"I don't feel right," Perdy confessed, meaning her feeling drained and feeble. She looked at Torrence properly this time. "They were drawing me in," she whispered. Despite how silly that sounded, it felt very real. Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned, trying to make sense of the last ten minutes. "I couldn't stop," she explained. "I wanted to steal them," she told him as she blinked quickly.

"Then I felt faint," she went on as she raked her hair back from her forehead with a shaky hand. "Drowsy," Perdita stood up and took a deep breath and closed her eyes, exhaling like she was in a yoga class instead of fighting for her life. "Like they were...sucking the life out of me?" Now she thought she was going insane. "The moment I resisted, things got worse." Her eyes flicked over his face, needing some sort of support that she wasn't going insane.

"I swear I didn't touch them," Perdita insisted to Torrence with a shake of her head. "I feel better," she said on the next beat, her eyes wary as colour came back to her face. "I just --" she trailed off, not wanting to upset him any further before she offered him a very small smile - he'd called her by her name, not her nickname. Not Red, not love, her real one.  "I don't want to go back in there," she begged him.

Torr's eyes widened as she bent at the waist, gasping for breath, feeling the dull effects of panic seizing him as he ran a hand down her back, at a loss for what was going on with her. Whatever those earrings had been had made her throw up? He was glad every second that passed that didn't happen but still. What the fuck..

He cupped her cheeks as she talked to him, every word uttered making him grit his teeth tighter. He helped her pushed her hair back, feeling the clamminess of her skin, the slick of sweat that hadn't been there in the moments before they had entered the shop. He was already mentally calculating her exposure. They had been in there for what, five, maybe ten minutes and somehow the proximity had been enough to effect her like this. Fuck.

Torr slid a hand down to the inside of her wrist, checking her pulse, noting each of her symptoms she mentioned, filtering through the dark objects he had had experience with before. "Headache? Any numbness? Trouble breathing?" he asked, fighting the need to fly back in to that shop and beat the information out of McCormick, but Perdy's grip on his arm kept him in place. He settled with doing that later, a dark promise he knew he would keep, but not until he figured out what was going on with her. Fear gripped him and he fought against its clutches. "You're fine, you'll be fine, Perdy," he told her, his voice hard, as if he wouldn't accept any other outcome as he willed her to meet his gaze and nodded once.

He believed her about not touching them, but mostly because he knew he could have gotten a lot worse. A thought he didn't even want to entertain at the moment. "We're not going back in there," he reassured her and then corrected himself. "You're not, anyway." No need to give her all the details on what he planned later. "Are you ok to apparate? I need to get you to my shop," he said, already palming his wand and being the gentleman that he was and waiting for an answer. He was sure he had a potion that would help erase the effects and he wasn't taking a no on that one.

Torrence's touch grounded her. Through all of the fog, he was a beacon. Perdita didn't realise how cold she was until the warmth of his hands seemed to seep right into her bones. She was better now, or at least, she thought she was. Her chest rose and fell thinly, her breathing quick before she squinted at his question. Distracted, her eyes dropped to the fingers he had wrapped around her wrist and she bit her lower lip.

"A small one," she admitted the headache with a frown, lifting a hand to gesture vaguely at her forehead before she shook her head at the other questions. She wished she hadn't. The street in front of her spun quickly, causing her to groan. She grimaced and pulled a face to show her distaste.

"I know, I know," Perdy said softly, flicking her eyes up to meet his. She was fine. Maybe she just needed to sleep it off? She didn't think she needed any special treatment - perhaps just a bowl of soup and a nap. One thing was abundantly clear; she wasn't going to accompany Torrence on any more business ventures.

Her sigh of relief was cut short as she frowned. "Oi," she said softly in an attempt to get his attention. "That means you too," Perdita insisted. Torrence could handle himself but she had no idea what the shopkeeper was capable of. "I'm fine," she affirmed. "There's no need to go and do anything stupid. I'm fine," she went on to say as he readied his wand. "I just need you to hold my hand," she told Torrence, squeezing it. If asked, she could say it was for physical support and ease of travel but they both knew that wasn't true. "Don't let go."

Seconds later, they were at Torrence's shop and immediately, Perdita felt her mood lift. She trailed after him, her free hand slipping into the back pocket of her jeans because she was terrified to touch anything. Her eyes darted around the various bottles and vials and she didn't understand anything. She gave a gentle tug on Torrence's hand. "I'll wait here," she offered.

"You're not fine," he told her sharply, contradicting what he had said a minute prior, mostly because she was now trying to minimize it. As if she could just wave off whatever the hell had just happened to her. "This is why you shouldn't have come," he muttered, his dark brows low over his eyes even as she squeezed his hand. The anger simmered within him  and he inhaled a breath trying to center himself, his nostrils flaring as he forced himself to focus for apparation. They were sucked out of the back alley and into another one just behind his shop, and he pulled her inside with hesitation, hooking a stool around the toe of his boot as he pointed to it, ignoring her comment about 'waiting here.' "Sit," he told her with a look.

Torr went over to his reserves, his chest feeling tight, as he pulled vials of potions he had on hand, examining a few vials as he stewed. "Can't fucking believe this," he said angrily, barely holding on to his temper, as he moved around her, going to the other side of the shop for a goblet, a glance thrown in her direction before he forced his gaze to the vials he was mixing in the cup. A standard pepper up mixed with a headache reducer and then he debated on the effects of adding in the dark magic antidote. He hadn't had any issues combining it with anything before. The hell with it. She might be drowsy for a few hours but it would be worth it.

"Drink this," he said after the potions were mixed in the goblet before taking her hand and wrapping it around the cup then he moved back leaning against his workbench. Why he had thought it had been a good idea for her to come with him had been the dumbest fucking thing he had done in a while and he clenched his jaw, gripping the edge of the bench hard, as he fought with himself.

"I --" Perdita began, about to counter but she stopped. He was blaming her, like she was somehow involved in his shady dealings. She should be angry but rather, she was just fatigued. She'd had no sleep the night before because she'd spent the time worrying about him. Then, she easily could have died.

At Torrence's instruction, she obediently sat. "You asked me," Perdy corrected him softly, almost fearful that he might strike out. They could have gone for a walk or something, maybe got some lunch but no. She'd been dumb enough to go on a cross-country excursion and now she was getting blamed for what happened?

She watched him move around the shop, adding things to a goblet, pacing like a wild animal. Her eyes shifted to the bottles on the shelves. Had he made these himself? It was impressive. She shifted on her stool as the wood creaked in protest beneath her weight as she slumped forward, her elbows digging into her knees as her eyes drooped, only for her to frown soon after.

"This isn't my fault," she told Torrence, her lips parted in distress. He was mad at her and she couldn't figure out why. He could have let her wait outside but he'd insisted on dragging her along like a rag doll. She stared at him, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. He was acting weird. He was angry, like he usually was, but there was another layer to this. She took the goblet without complaint, too exhausted to fight as she sipped it slowly and she forced herself to swallow. She couldn't bear it when he was angry with her.

Perdy drank the potion in silence. A clock ticked somewhere in the vicinity. The tension seemed to ease from her shoulders by the time she'd drank the last drop and she held the goblet in her hands, her eyes downcast as she rolled it in her palms. She felt warmed and relaxed. "I'm sorry," she offered quietly. Maybe they needed some more time apart? Perhaps longer than a week. They were destroying each other. It was destroying her.

The tall witch rubbed her eye as she uttered a yawn, smudging her eyeliner in the process as she sat still. Torrence looked as though he was about to punch something and Perdita couldn't help but wonder if he'd replaced all of the belongings he'd smashed the other week. Her eyes were wary as she watched him, wondering why she'd agreed to accompany him in the first place.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Perdy asked him gently as she set the empty cup on the side. Anything could happen to her. She could be sick, she might fall unconscious, she might actually be cursed. Nervously, she swallowed. "I don't want to be alone," she admitted, feeling foolish as she looked at him. She'd make it easy - she'd be gone before breakfast.