Magical Hogwarts

Between the two of them, certain things had always been true, regardless of whatever had been hidden underneath. Phillip was out-spoken and abrasive, whereas Billie was quiet and thoughtful. And while that hadn't changed, Phillip felt something shift as she answered his question with one of her own. Billie rarely did such a thing; she was too polite, too considerate not to answer what was asked of her. And the follow-up made Phillip feel guilty for having asked, and that quickly devolved back into anger. "That isn't what I asked." Phillip returned, feeling tense.

While that had not initially been what he had meant by the question, Phillip wasn't rushing to defend his words either. He wasn't the one who needed to explain. He hadn't done anything wrong. Turning his head toward her, Phillip saw the glossy lines that streamed down her cheeks, but they made him angrier. He took a deep breath but felt anything but steadier from it. "I don't understand. Why aren't you defending yourself? You are just standing there, say something. Tell me how you could keep lying to me after everything." Phillip needed to understand why she hadn't told him, after all, that they had been through and shared. How could she keep something like this from him, Billie had to know how much it would hurt him to find out, but hadn't she known how much worse it would be if he didn't hear it from her first? Had she considered his feelings at all?

"Or do you only regret that I found out?" It was a terrible thing to accuse her of, especially in the wake of every other painful thing he had brought up, but Phillip said it anyway. A cruel manifestation of the betrayal he felt projected back toward her.

?óÔé¼?ôIt?óÔé¼Ôäós not??óÔé¼?Ø she asked, feeling incredibly drained. Hadn?óÔé¼Ôäót he asked her if she wished her mother recognised her? Was there a different, more understandable way to interpret it? Billie was very good at second guessing herself, and even though she?óÔé¼Ôäód refuted him, a moment later she was convinced that she was wrong, had made some kind of mistake. She wanted to apologise again, but was nervous that it might upset him more. She didn?óÔé¼Ôäót know what she thought ?óÔé¼ÔÇ£?áshe felt confused by how easily his assertion had shifted her thinking. She was so damn ready to acquiesce, wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót she? And rightfully so, her feelings said.

Say something. She shook her head again, not wanting to answer, but all of her emotions were at the very surface, ready to spill over at a moment?óÔé¼Ôäós notice. Her lips were pressed together, holding back questions of her own. Like when was she supposed to have told him? When they?óÔé¼Ôäód been friends for a few months? After she realised she had feelings for him? After he kissed her? And how did he think he would have reacted? When they?óÔé¼Ôäód first met she was thirteen ?óÔé¼ÔÇ£ still living with her aunt. She wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót allowed to acknowledge any of it, and she?óÔé¼Ôäód been so, so, so much worse at making up her own mind back then. And still, after all of that, he was right! What was there to defend? How should she defend herself?! What did he want?

Then her lips were moving. ?óÔé¼?ôWhat do you want me to say??óÔé¼?Ø she said, the words rushed and heavy. She was crumpling again, under the weight of it all. The muscles around her eyes felt so tight; her pain was evident in her expression. "When should I have brought it up?" She brought her hands up to her face, fingertips pressing her temples. She closed her eyes, tight. ?óÔé¼?ôSometimes I wish I could scrub it all out of my brain." A big wave of guilt, but not about Phillip, that time. "And sometimes it feels like it already has been." She shook her head rapidly. Her voice was thick and despite the fast pace of it all, she was struggling to get the words out. "I can't defend anything, I ?óÔé¼ÔÇ£ I'm just, I'm sorry."

Her momentary calm had faded, as she knew it would. Her face was in her hands again, and she pressed her fingers, then her palms into her eyes. Even with everything else falling apart in front of her, Billie couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót stop the wave of guilt she?óÔé¼Ôäód felt when she?óÔé¼Ôäód said she wished she could forget it all. Her stomach was twisting in a way that made her sick again; she shouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót have said it. She shouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót. And then, of course, the guilt for betraying her parents felt like a betrayal to Phillip in itself. And so on.

But. What should she have said, and when? Those same questions played on repeat, along with what felt like a hundred snippets of the past few minutes. Her mind was screaming, but her body was stuck, frozen to the spot; stillness came so easily to the young witch. She wanted to agree with him more, confess any confession he wanted to hear. Anything. She apologised over and over in her head, and wouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót have been surprised if a few of them slipped from her lips.

I should probably take you home now.

Billie lowered her hands slowly, feeling like she might explode or shake apart at the seams with the magnitude of what she was feeling. she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót speak. She could barely look at him, but she stole just a quick glance before looking down again. Down on the ground, where their picnic blanket was. They were only a few steps away, she noted distantly. Some part of her registered that they couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót just leave. She felt too-full of feeling and hollowed out at the same time.

Billie moved clumsily to the ground and started packing things up slowly, methodically, completely on autopilot. Cupcake tin. Cloak. Picnic blanket. Her hands were shaking, and after a beat, she managed to come to the conclusion she should put her cloak on. Even if she was going to be back at Kendrick?óÔé¼Ôäós house in just minutes. She did so wordlessly, fumbling with the clasp with numb fingers. Her hands were shaking, and she was sure they were a very sickly pale colour underneath her gloves. It was freezing. She had to stop several times to wipe her tears; by now her gloves were damp.

Tin. Cloak. Blanket. She picked her scarf up from the ground, put it in the bag with the food. The blanket was too big for her to shake off by herself, but she moved to do it anyway.

Phillip watched as Billie began to clean up the things they had brought with them but couldn't bring himself to help her. Even as she struggled to fold the blanket, Phillip just stared. He wondered if she had tucked the secret parts of herself away so mechanically like a checklist of things that were to be kept hidden, even from him, ticking boxes off one by one. His mind wandered, and he felt angry again. "I've got it," He said gruffly, not offering to do it together but rather to take over. Phillip moved to stand next to her, but he was a world away and shook the blanket out roughly before rolling it into a messy, uneven fold.

The idea that everything had changed was starting to settle in. They weren't together anymore; how could they possibly be? And Phillip wasn't even sure they could be friends after this. He couldn't see past everything that she had hidden between them; he felt like a fool for not knowing who she was. And the idea of life without Billie in it was dark, cold, and lonely. A lot like how things had been before they became friends. Phillip had tried to pretend like he hadn't changed since he met her, and in some ways, that was true. He was still an angry, rude teenager with too much to complain about, but he had changed, and he wasn't ready to go back to how it was before. Phillip was not prepared to be alone again.

Stepping away from her, the lopsided blanket tucked under his arm, Phillip tried to calm himself with a deep breath. It did not help; every exhale just let more weight crush down on his chest. "I don't know if I can do this..." He admitted and felt suffocated by how applicable the statement was. Physically, he wasn't sure if he could safely apparate them; mentally spent and emotionally drained, Phillip had no idea if he would ever trust her again.

She tried to shake the blanket off, but it was bigger than her, and she was struggling to keep it high enough to do so. She felt encumbered by her cloak now, and suddenly wished she wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót wearing it. She found herself fixating on these little details, easy to process problems, like whether she should have put the scarf in before the tin, and if she should rearrange them now. The bigger, weightier problem and everything that came along with that ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ it felt like pandora?óÔé¼Ôäós box in her head ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ felt like dark water all around her. Distracting herself was like pretending she wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót drowning.

He took the blanket from her; she clasped her hands in front of herself, eyes down. ?óÔé¼?ôThank you,?óÔé¼?Ø she whispered, unable to be impolite, even now. Or, especially now, perhaps? Politeness felt like a safer space to be than anywhere else. She was shifting backwards in her mind, but wished she could go even deeper into herself, leave her body on autopilot and stop thinking or feeling anything. Being present was so abrasive, lurid even in the dark.

Billie didn?óÔé¼Ôäót look at him when he spoke, though her chest ached and she very much wanted to see his face right now; she kept her eyes down. She didn?óÔé¼Ôäót understand. Did he mean he didn?óÔé¼Ôäót want to talk anymore? Was that now, or ever? Did he mean he wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót sure if he could apparate? She trusted him; if he apparated badly and hurt her, she wouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót blame him. Or maybe that was just her tendency towards punishment speaking. Billie nodded slightly, but she wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót sure what she was nodding about. Agreeing was just the most accessible path for her right now.

Billie said nothing, and Phillip followed her lead, sighing quietly and desperately trying to figure out how he would apparate right now. He had been doing the apparition magic for over a year, but he'd never been this upset while trying. The idea of getting splinched, or worse, accidentally hurting Billie, hung in the back of his head like a reminder that nothing was okay and it was almost certainly going to get worse. A slight alarm ringing, telling him he was screwed either way. He had to get her home, and Phillip wanted to be anywhere but right here, right now, but the magic just seemed so far away.

Taking a sharp breath, Phillip squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind to clear in hopes that he could successfully return them to Kendrick's. His fingertips tingled, a telltale sign that the magic would work if he could concentrate and separate himself from Everything else. It was a tall order to fill, and he knew the second he made physical contact with Billie, it would grow a hundred times harder. He opened his eyes again, blinking a few times as he stepped toward his girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend, the thought occurred to him, adding to the stressful shadows obscuring his focus, and he stopped two steps short of being able to reach her. This wasn't going to work; he already knew it. Phillip ran his hands over his face again, exhaling as exhaustion and frustration mixed loudly. Phillip felt unbearably low, crushed under anger and sadness. Everything swirled together into a big mess in his head. How was he supposed to concentrate when every voice was screaming at him.

Saying nothing, Phillip took the last two steps toward her and held his hand out. Half considering putting his hand on her shoulder but afraid of apparating differently than every other time. Worried that the change would somehow make it more difficult, he waited for Billie to take his hand. He had only ever apparated along-side Billie before; he only knew how to do it holding her hand. He felt his toes tingling, the magic welling up inside of him and begging for a destination, and Phillip wanted nothing but to let it happen, to allow them to fold and be transferred back to Craven. But, when she slipped her hand into his, the magic disappeared. Phillip's eyes shot open, and he flinched, pulling his hand away.

The first try was a complete failure, and Phillip felt already felt like it was never going to work, but it had to. They had to leave; he was in a rush despite having nowhere to go after this. Maybe Winifred would let him stay at William's again. The worry about where he might go afterward was distant but piled on with all of the other anxious thoughts clouding his mind. He took a steadying breath, biting on his cheek, and held his hand out to try again. This time maybe it would work.

Phillip was silent, too. At the end of every exhale she felt a pang in her chest, and it felt like she had to work to force her lungs to expand again. She risked a glance up after he closed his eyes, and she wondered what he could possibly thinking. She?óÔé¼Ôäód been avoiding looking at him, and it felt good to see his face, eyes closed and all, but?óÔé¼?ª She?óÔé¼Ôäód hurt him badly. Billie looked down again before he had a chance to catch her studying him, her stomach tight and uncomfortable, and a moment later he was holding a hand out for her. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder with one hand, her other reaching for his instinctively. A part of her craved that rightness she felt whenever she slid her smaller hand into his.

He wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót wearing gloves, like she was; his hands must be freezing. This winter, she?óÔé¼Ôäód noticed that he didn?óÔé¼Ôäót ever wear gloves, opting to rely on magic to stop his fingers from freezing instead?óÔé¼ÔÇØ

He flinched like she?óÔé¼Ôäód struck him, his open hand retracting from hers like she was poison. Billie flinched slightly at the movement, just a small, contained sort of reaction before she curled her arm back to her chest more slowly. She still wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót looking at him, but she felt fresh tears well in her eyes. He couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót even take her hand to take her home. Maybe he should just leave her here, she thought, stricken. She felt far too alone to be standing in front of the person she thought she loved most in the world.

His breathing was heavy; he took a deep, steadying breath, and she tried to do the same, though in a smaller, quieter kind of way. When he held his hand out again, she took it tentatively, heart racing as she reached. Could she handle him flinching again? There was a silent exhale when he didn?óÔé¼Ôäót. She waited for the folding sensation, for the world to fall away from her, only to rush back in a moment later. When it didn?óÔé¼Ôäót happen, she glanced Phillip?óÔé¼Ôäós way, not quite meeting his eye. He wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót looking at her anyway, and she made herself look down instead so as not to distract him. It occurred to her in a horrifying sort of way that the last time he?óÔé¼Ôäód had trouble apparating with her was because she was trying to distract him.

And then he did it. She was taken off guard, and she appeared on the other side gasping for a breath and squeezing his hand for balance as she stumbled slightly. Like the first time, some faraway part of her mind noted. Straightening up, she let his hand go ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ it was clear he didn?óÔé¼Ôäót want to touch her. She flattened the front of her clothes anxiously, adjusted the clasp of her cloak. It was far later than he ever brought her home, and from out here she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót see the light on. In summer, she would have kissed him on the porch until forced inside.

Would he look at her now, she wondered? Billie moved to tuck a strand of hair behind one ear, realising with a pause that there was a small lock that seemed to be an inch and a half shorter at the front. Just a small bit, but he?óÔé¼Ôäód?óÔé¼?ª Splinched her? She glanced up at him sharply, looking for wounds, missing bits, anything. Her eyes searched, but found nothing out of place, so she said nothing. Her hand went back to the strap of her bag, and she tried to will her heart to slow.

Phillip had very little faith that the next attempt would work, and as she slipped her tiny hand into his, he held his breath. This has to work, it has to work, he thought to himself. Squeezing his eyes closed tightly, Phillip tried desperately to make the apparition work, but no matter what he did, all he could think about was how close she was standing. About how close they had been all summer and the school year and what they had done over winter break. Before, that closeness had felt like the thing that would lift him, but now it felt like the thing that would break him. He couldn't stop thinking about her hand in his.

More time than it should have taken passed by, but eventually, Phillip managed to clear his mind long enough for the magic to take hold, but it was far from an easy transition. They tore through space as they apparated, rough and uncomfortable, and Phillip felt every inch of his body tense as they landed in Craven. It was late, the streetlights forming little circles of light, barely keeping the darkness at bay. Phillip could relate.

He turned to Billie, sure he'd messed something up along the way, and his breath caught in his throat at the thought. If he had hurt her, Phillip would never forgive himself. Seeing that she was intact, no apparent splinching, the teenager nodded silently. His body was still tense like he was clenching his muscles, and there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

Looking at Billie, Phillip felt relief that she hadn't been hurt, but it mixed in with the rest of the emotions. Like shadows from dim streetlamps, he realized this next part would be even more challenging than apparating. All summer long, Phillip had dropped her off, and they always had the same prolonged goodbye ceremony. He could nearly picture her standing on the step so that they were almost the same height, her hands on his shirt, and the summer breeze blowing little curls around her face. He would say, Goodnight Billie, but she wouldn't go, not right away, and he'd hold onto her until the porch light came on.

The porchlight was off.

She should probably mention the time, or start walking towards the house. She should apologise more, maybe. Thank him for bringing her home. Backtrcack too far and start panicking. Explain things. Make excuses. Tell the truth. Lie.

Billie did none of those things, instead just standing in front of him like an idiot, wishing for realities other than this one. She blinked away tears, feeling exhausted and headachey. She felt simultaneously like she?óÔé¼Ôäód never have a restful sleep again and that she could fall asleep right now, on the spot. She felt like all of her was laid out raw in front of him, ready to be hurt a little more when he said goodbye.

There was a small patch on the left side of her waist that stung a little, and it took her a moment to realise that she might have lost a little skin there through the apparation process. It didn?óÔé¼Ôäót feel too big, though, and felt safe and hidden under her many warm layers, so she didn?óÔé¼Ôäót say anything about it. She felt compelled to make sure he was safe though, so even though she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót mention it specifically?óÔé¼?ª ?óÔé¼?ôYou should wait a moment,?óÔé¼?Ø she breathed tentatively. It was the first thing she?óÔé¼Ôäód said in minutes, and her voice both felt and sounded tired from crying and feeling too much. ?óÔé¼?ôBefore you apparate again.?óÔé¼?Ø

Billie fought the urge to touch her waist, to put pressure on the little wound and work out just how bad it was. The house felt a little imposing, like they?óÔé¼Ôäód stepped out of their own world and were suddenly in the real one. She hoped Kendrick was asleep when she went in, because she didn?óÔé¼Ôäót think she had the emotional capacity to go over all of this again. At least it was a touch warmer here, she thought. Away from the water.

Phillip felt unsteady like apparating had sapped whatever energy he had left. All he wanted to do was go now, but Phillip knew that she was right as she mentioned it. It would be unsafe to try to apparate again so soon. He was still surprised to have managed it the first time. "Yeah," He agreed; his voice was quiet. Phillip shifted his weight from one foot to the other, sliding his cold hands into the front pockets of his sweater and the rawness as the fabric scratched over his shoulder blade. Instantly, Phillip knew what the feeling was; he had been splinched. And if it had happened to him, it might have happened to her.

Daring to look at Billie, Phillip searched for any sign of damage and saw the lock of hair. A chunk that was shorter than the rest, and he was positive it hadn't been that way before. Phillip had splinched her too, and he was kicking himself for it the second he saw the piece of hair. It was superficial, not even the sort of thing she would feel; a bit of potion would grow it back. Still, he felt guilty for having caused it. Phillip was almost scared to keep looking, horrified he might see something worse, something that was painful, but Billie seemed okay. That, or she was just an outstanding actress, though, Phillip wondered why she would pretend not to be hurt if she was.

Because she lies, he reminded himself and looked away.

Deciding it would be better to leave than wait around for a peace of mind he knew wasn't going to come soon, Phillip spoke quietly like he might wake someone if he was too loud. "I'm going to walk for a while before apparating," He wasn't sure why he explained it, why he wanted her to know he had a plan and wasn't going to try to apparate dangerously, but it didn't matter.

The longer he stayed, the more anxious he would feel, but at least walking might let him sort through his thoughts a little. And the later it got, the less likely Wini was to ask questions when he randomly showed up in London. If she even let him in.

He was looking at her, searching for something, but she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót be sure what it was. Though it pained her to do it, she met his eyes, eyebrows furrowed a little with anxiety. She wanted him to read her, like he could sometimes. Wanted him to see into her mind like she?óÔé¼Ôäód imagined he could in very close, intimate moments. Wanted to share, if he wanted something from her. He seemed to come to some kind of internal conclusion a moment later, and his gaze slipped from hers.

?óÔé¼?ôOkay,?óÔé¼?Ø she breathed. Her heart was racing again, or maybe it hadn?óÔé¼Ôäót stopped, she wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót sure. ?óÔé¼?ôLet me,?óÔé¼?Ø she said quietly, reaching for the picnic blanket he?óÔé¼Ôäód been carrying. She took it from his gloveless hands, thinking that she should go inside now. Was she late? She couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót really tell how much time had passed. Regardless, she lingered, though, unable to say goodnight or goodbye or any kind of closing phrase to let him go. Maybe he felt like she did; unable to leave until dismissed. She was only a small step away from him, too close and too far away simultaneously.

He moved first. ?óÔé¼?ôPhillip, is this?óÔé¼?ª??óÔé¼?Ø her words cut through the silence and stillness they?óÔé¼Ôäód been playing at for minutes now, an uncomfortable urgency in her voice. She couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót quite get the sentences out, though. ?óÔé¼?ôAre we?óÔé¼?ª??óÔé¼?Ø He stopped when she spoke, like she?óÔé¼Ôäód demanded it of him.

He had meant to turn away quicker, to leave, and just start walking. He needed to get as far as he could before his brain caught up, but not even his feet would cooperate. Phillip didn't want this to be the end, but he couldn't feel like it was anything but that. And even though saying Goodnight seemed like too pleasant a thing to say, Goodbye was too harsh. He should have turned and left, but leaving things unsolved was worst than knowing the awful truth, and Billie seemed to share his opinion.

Phillip had barely pivoted when she asked the question, and he froze the second it registered. "Are we?óÔé¼?ª?" Phillip found it hard to swallow, his throat dry and sticky. Were they finished? Was this the end? As much as he scrambled to want to say no, Phillip couldn't do it. He felt sick to his stomach with the realization, but deep down, he had known it the minute he learned the truth. Some part of them had shattered when he asked the question, never able to put it back together. It was unrepairable. Phillip was in love with Billie, but even that felt broken now, unrecognizable.

"Yeah, I think so..." He turned back to face her, his eyes red and glossy as tears pooled up in them. This was the end.

In some warped, distant kind of way, it felt reassuring that he couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót even say it out loud. Even if he hated her, he cared. Even if he couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót stand to be with her anymore, not all of him wanted to be apart. Just, enough did, was all. Billie felt her stomach drop as she realised what was happening. She shook her head, just slightly, her body betraying her feelings. She hadn?óÔé¼Ôäót ever had a breakup before. How was she supposed to simply continue, after having her days so deeply intertwined with his?óÔé¼ÔÇØ? Were there rules that she was supposed to?óÔé¼ÔÇØ? It mortified her a little that they?óÔé¼Ôäód only just ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ Her thoughts moved in staggered, launching arcs.

She wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót very modern or knowledgeable about these things; she didn?óÔé¼Ôäót know what to do. ?óÔé¼?ôSo,?óÔé¼?Ø she breathed, a part of her unwilling to accept it. ?óÔé¼?ôI shouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót?óÔé¼?ª?óÔé¼?Ø She trailed off, not completely certain where that sentence was going. Her vision was blurry with tears again, though she wondered how she could cry so much in such a short space of time. So she shouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót call him her boyfriend? So she shouldn?óÔé¼Ôäót write to him tonight, when she went inside? Her arms felt so heavy carrying all of these things in them. The big blanket was cumbersome, the cloak ill-fitting. But she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót leave.

She wanted to ask: What do I do? ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ It felt like the verbal equivalent of plucking on his sleeves; she felt very young and inexperienced all of a sudden.

And she hated to say it, she just knew how he?óÔé¼Ôäód feel, but she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót let him leave without whispering into the cold night ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ ?óÔé¼?ôPlease don?óÔé¼Ôäót tell everyone.?óÔé¼?Ø

"I shouldn't?óÔé¼?ª"

"No, you shouldn't,"

Whatever Billie might have finished that sentence with, Phillip already knew the answer. Looking away, he clenched his jaw and willed his eyes to dry themselves. The tears spilled over anyway. For years Billie had been the most valuable thing in his life. And without her, Phillip had nothing and no one. Everything had revolved around Billie. He had formed himself and his life, hobbies, and habits around her, and now that was lost. Who was Phillip without Billie?

Phillip couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't even bear to look at her; the wizard knew himself well enough. Phillip knew he would crumble. So instead, he turned in the direction of the cracked sidewalk leading away from Kendrick's house. "Please don't tell everyone." Had she asked earlier, or even two minutes prior, Phillip might have reacted differently, but by this point, he didn't have a whole lot left to give her. Indignation mixed with exhaustion, and he just shook his head, scoffing at the request before answering.

"I won't."

Who did he have left to tell, anyway?

He cut her off and she winced, feeling like he knew exactly what she was thinking, and hating how childish she must seem in the moment. She would drop everything she was holding and go to him in a heartbeat, if there was a part of her that thought he might want that, even just a little bit. He was turning, walking away. Scoffing at her request, shaking his head even as he agreed. She didn?óÔé¼Ôäót know what that meant. She didn?óÔé¼Ôäót know what to do.

?óÔé¼?ôPhillip?óÔé¼?ª?óÔé¼?Ø Billie wasn?óÔé¼Ôäót sure if she said his name out loud or just formed the shape of it with her lips. There was a cold breeze blowing, and her voice felt so small against everything else ?óÔé¼ÔÇØ the wind, the way she felt, the distance between them. Phillip never left first; it was part of their nighttime routine, the routine they?óÔé¼Ôäód created last summer, when he?óÔé¼Ôäód first been able to do magic outside of school with her. Thrilling, she?óÔé¼Ôäód said, when he?óÔé¼Ôäód apparated with her for the very first time, hand in hand. Before they?óÔé¼Ôäód kissed. Before she?óÔé¼Ôäód confessed her feelings. When he?óÔé¼Ôäód taken her home that night, he?óÔé¼Ôäód waited on the stairs for her to go inside, and he hadn?óÔé¼Ôäót let her watch him leave first ever since. A part of her was convinced he?óÔé¼Ôäód turn around even now, and she stood there for too long, her feet planted in the ground like tree roots, the feeling curling up inside of her until she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót see him anymore. He didn?óÔé¼Ôäót look back.

She was crying again, properly crying, little gasps of air and all. She was freezing; it was far too cold to be standing outside. She shivered, teeth chattering, her whole body tense and shaking. It took her a long moment to gather her composure long enough to start moving towards the house. She moved mechanically:

Open the door.

Fumble with the key.

Lock it behind her.

Be quiet down the hall.

Shoes.

Cloak.

Stockings.

She did it all holding her breath, nervous to make too much noise. And at some point, at the end of it all, she managed to get herself into bed. She curled up tightly in her sheets, tucking herself as deeply as she could, like a child playing hide and seek in the blankets. Her mind was too loud for her to focus on any one thing, and it took her a long time to get warm, so she closed her eyes and cried into her pillows until she couldn?óÔé¼Ôäót. At some point, she fell into a restless and troubled sleep.



/end