Declan

Mia sighed, hesitating before moving her hand off of his. “Well, I don’t think it was connected, but I’m sorry that happened. I’m sure it really sucked.”

“I think it sucked more for my mom. Like, it wasn’t me my dad stopped loving. Not then at least”

Mia frowned slightly. “What, like it was your fault because your appendix had to be taken out?” she asked, shaking her head. “There’s no connection, Declan. I promise there’s not.” She laid her hand on his hesitantly.

“More like it was some sort of cosmic sign” he shrugged a little “or a weird joke the universe decided to make.”

Mia blinked, surprised by his response and not entirely sure what to say to that. She found her face growing hot, flushing pink, and she averted her gaze from his face, lowering it to his stomach where the scar was now beneath his shirt. “So, um, what’s the scar from?” she decided to just ask to change the subject.

“oh. I had my appendix taken out when I was 12. I actually think that was the last time my parents were together before they started fighting. Sometimes I wonder if there was some sort of connection. Losing an organ and then losing a parent.”

Mia allowed him to push her hands away, wondering about the scar but not sure if she should say anything about it. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” she told him teasingly, though even as she said it, she realized she wouldn’t actually mind that very much.

“Maybe later” he said, not realizing exactly what had just come out of his mouth.

Mia laughed, shaking her head. “Oh? Are you going to show me?” She reached over to grab the bottom of his shirt, pushing it up his torso to check out his stomach and chest.

“Hey that’s private” he laughed a little going to push her hands away. There was a scar on his stomach that looked like it had healed a long time ago”

Mia couldn’t help but laugh. “If you fit into any of my dresses I’d be so upset,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want a boy’s body!”

“well maybe I have a girl’s body underneath all this. You don’t know”

“Oh! Right. Good idea,” Mia said with a nod, her mood brightening. “Do you have any fancy clothes? You gotta dress up for recitals.” She poked his side gently.

“Oh I was just thinking you’d let me borrow a fancy dress”

“Oh, gosh, that means I have to start practicing again,” Mia realized. “I have no idea if they have any cellos here.” She glanced toward the castle. “Ugh. I might have to ask my parents to send me mine.”

“you could ask the muggles studies professor they might know if there are any before you ask your parents”

Mia bit her lip, leaning over to kiss his cheek gently. “I’d really like that,” she admitted, fighting back a blush as she grinned.

“okay” he nodded, feeling his cheek warm up after she’d kissed it “I’ll make sure I can go to your next one”

Mia glanced over at him with some surprise. “Seriously? You’d do that?” she asked, unable to help but grin faintly at the prospect.

“Yeah” he nodded “if you wanted me to that is”

“I haven’t, um, I haven’t really … played anything since last year,” Mia admitted softly, chewing on her lip as she looked down at her notebook. “My parents never cared about my music. My … my brother was the only one who’d come to my recitals or-or listen to my music at all, really, so … I just … there’s no real point to it anymore.” She shrugged listlessly.

“I could go”

“Um, not exactly,” Mia admitted, biting her lip. “It’s kind of … um. Smashed. To pieces. So. Not very salvageable.” She inhaled a bit sharply, looking down at her notebook. “Um, I’ve played since I was … nine or ten? I also play the piano and the cello, a little trumpet and flute. I kinda tried a whole bunch of stuff. I like the piano best for writing music, and then guitar for more casual playing? It’s easier to move around than a piano and cello. Cello I use mostly for classical pieces. I used to have a lot of recitals and stuff.” She realized she was starting to ramble, so she pursed her lips, falling silent.

“Why don’t you have them anymore?” he asked, wondering if the reason she didn’t have recitals anymore was because of what had happened there the year before. 

“Yeah, that’d be kind of cool,” Mia admitted with a nod. “But if I was going to save up for something I’d get a guitar. I kind of, um, my old one isn’t exactly in working order … anymore.” She bit her lip, not wanting to admit how she’d smashed her guitar in a grief-fueled breakdown soon after James’s funeral.

“Oh. What happened to it? Did you break some strings on it? I could buy you some more” he smiled a little at her “I didn’t know you played guitar. Have you played a long time? Do you have a favorite song to play?”

Mia smiled, glad he liked it. She shook her head to his question, however. “No, not a lot. But, you know, I’ll doodle while I’m bored or thinking. I had this chalkboard in my room back home that I used to doodle on all the time when I was thinking up song lyrics and stuff. And I doodle in my song books sometimes too.” She lifted the book in her lap slightly.

“Maybe you could get a chalkboard for here? One of those smaller ones and you could doodle on that” he suggested “with lots of different colored chalks”

“Okay. Cool,” Mia said with a nod, feeling her stomach fluttering some at that admission. She picked up his arm again, blowing gently on his skin where her art sat, tapping it lightly with her fingertip to make sure it was all dry. “What do you think?” she asked then with a faint grin, showing him the rose with the snake curled around it she’d drawn.

“It’s really good” he smiled admiring the artwork. “do you draw a lot?”

“Well, I don’t like all guys either,” Mia said with a faint grin. “But you’re not … gay or anything, right?” She knew it wasn’t really any of her business, but it suddenly was very important to her to know.

“No” he shook his head “I mean, I don’t think I am. Gay’s when you don’t like girls at all, right? I don’t think I’m that”

Mia nodded slowly, pursing her lips in thought, not sure what she felt about that. “Well … do you like girls?” she asked him then, trying not to sound too curious, as she ran her finger up and down the edge of her notebook absently.

“Not all of them”