Ari Waverley

Sebastian’s POV

In the quiet hours before dawn he sat, contemplating his choices. This was typical of Sebastian, his mind seldom giving him a quiet moment. While he often seemed impulsive, the truth remained shrouded in layers of increasing complexity. It was certainly true that he ran into situations without thinking them fully through before taking the first movements, but it seemed that he was cursed to consider them afterwards, turning them over in his mind until the thoughts were as smoothed as a river-worn stone.

This morning was no exception. No quidditch game day ever did seem to be. What was he doing with his life, he would ask himself as he rolled out of bed far too early, chased out by the nightmares that made the simple act of sleeping seem unsafe. He would ask himself again as he splashed water on his face and moved through the required motions of waking. He would consider it more heavily as he sat at his counter, the caffeine from his now-cold dregs of coffee working their domestic magic. 

He told himself that at this point it was simply a pre-game ritual, reminding himself why all of this was so important. It wasn’t very Slytherin-like to have to talk himself into being ambitious, he was fully aware. But regardless he tried.

Today felt easier than usual, and although he didn’t want to admit it, the most likely culprit was you. The simple knowledge that you were going to be there, watching him, perhaps even judging him with the clinical precision you could never completely shake, was like a jolt of adrenaline through his blood stream. The sight of you in the stands, something he hadn’t experienced since his Hogwarts’ days, was already playing in his mind. Today he had a tangible reason to do well, no need to plead with himself, remind himself of why he was doing all of this. Of why this was his only option.

“Only a few more years,” he had said like a prayer before each game, head dipped. “Only a few more years and then I can live exactly like I want to.” The taste lingered on his tongue now, the bite of ocean air laced with salt. The feeling of grass biting at his ankles, his only companion the clear sky, nearly periwinkle blue over head. Soon he wouldn’t need to resign himself to summers and few rushed weekend trips to field locations. Soon he could spend as long as he wanted pressed between the book shelves of libraries of old, spending countless hours reading in the hope of finally unraveling the mystery of dark magic a bit farther.

Today, there was no conversation with himself, no rehashing of purpose. Today, his only focus was you.

As the light began to crawl its way through the cracks in the curtain and onto the counter before him, Sebastian finally shifted. He had spent enough time lost in his head this morning to last a week. He had a pitch to get to.

Your POV

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror once again. It seemed to be one of your favorite places as of late. You were wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve white shirt. Perhaps a bit simple, yes, but you weren’t really sure what else would go with the sweater that Sebastian had loaned you. You really needed to add more green to your closet if this was going to become a run-of-the-mill outing for you. 

You had waited to pull on the sweater until the absolute last moment you could. Despite your feeble attempts to keep reminding yourself that it was simply an article of clothing, your treacherous brain kept insisting that it was something more. Like the instant that you pulled it on, donned it and showed it to the world, that this somehow would all be real. That your relationship with Sebastian would be real, at least on your end. At that point, the only person you would be lying to would be yourself.

You let out a sigh, trying your best to trace the root of your nerves. Sure, this whole experience had worn on you thus far, but you could never admit that out loud. You had become so practiced at pretending throughout your life. 

Pretending you were a normal child, when the strangest things kept occurring with no explanation.

Pretending you were a typical student when you joined Hogwarts in your fifth year.

Pretending you were fine when you lost Sebastian and Professor Fig within a 1 month span.

Pretending you were prepared to be an adult when you graduated, despite having just started to feel like you had found your footing at Hogwarts, right before it was all yanked away.

Pretending you were a better doctor, a caring one, an intelligent one, one who could cope with the emotional free-fall your career seemed to encourage.

So why was pretending to be in a relationship proving to be so difficult? Why did you struggle to keep your emotions under check?

You could reasonably blame it on pressure. Agatha had emailed you the night prior, with a ‘friendly’ reminder of how much today mattered for appearances.You and Sebastian had been photographed together, sure, but this day would be different. There would be cameras everywhere. Practically everyone would know who you are. Today your performance would have to be flawless to keep up the ruse. Your job practically depended on it.

A part of you, perhaps a bitter one, hoped that Sebastian was feeling the same way. It may have been harsh, but it seemed more likely now, that he was more anxiety-ridden than he let on. The existence and subsequent acknowledgement of his nightmares had broken something within you. It was now impossible to pretend that he had simply had a way of surviving difficult times better than you. Instead, you now knew that the downfall had caused scars. Bleeding together didn’t seem quite as dangerous as bleeding alone.

So you told yourself that Sebastian did feel the same way, even if it was potentially a lie. In your mind, he was equally as nervous about today, equally as nervous to see your face. You repeated it like a mantra as you finally took a breath and pulled his sweater over your head. You made a mental note to ask him how he managed to continuously make everything he owned smell of pine - it couldn’t have been a normal cologne, the scent was simultaneously too subtle, but lingered for too long for that to be the case.

You were finally pulled from the grasps of your mind by a short rap at the door, followed by a few muffled words from your roommate. “Y/N, are you about ready to go? We should leave now if we’re going to meet Poppy and Natty on time.” You took one more deep breath, steading yourself.

You could treat this just like being in clinic. You could slip the mask of calm over your features, cool your reactions. You could look invested in this game, smile in the way that the cameras wanted to see. 

“Coming,” you responded a moment later.

⋆｡°✩

The pitch was slightly less rowdy than you had expected. Back in your Hogwarts days, every game seemed as if it was a chance to demonstrate house loyalty. The louder someone screamed, the more outrageous outfits people wore, were viewed as a sign of how much you cared. If your own house wasn’t playing, people seemed to take notes on who you were cheering for.

The air at this game didn’t hold the same tension. Sure, people were dressed in green for Scotland and red for Wales. A few people had face paint, and you even saw a group of men with Wales written across their chests in bright body paint. But, the overall feeling was more relaxed. You felt a bit calmer as you looked around, observing the other attendees as you waited for your friends to collect their drinks. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you yet and for that you were thankful for that fact.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Poppy asked as she approached, beer in hand and snapping you out of focus.

“I’m fine, thanks Pops.” Poppy simply nodded and smiled, leaving it at that. Your friends never pushed the issue and for that you were thankful. Truth be told, some part of you always felt a responsibility to be sober when in public. Perhaps it was some twisted sense of responsibility that came naturally with being a physician, but someone needed to be sober to make sure everyone remained safe. You were perfectly happy to play that role.

“Are we ready to head to the stands?” Natty asked as she and Ominis rejoined the group.

You nodded and began to lead the group in the direction of the seats. Always the planner, you had looked up the layout of the stadium the moment Sebastian had sent you the tickets. When you finally approached the correct area, you were surprised to find a guard standing there, a rope beside him blocking off access to the seats.

“Er, hello.” You greeted the man, flashing him the best, most confident smile you could muster. “I believe that our seats are in this area… or perhaps I’m mistaken?” You handed over the tickets and upon inspection, the guard removed the rope, ushering your rag-tag party in. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. I hope you enjoy the game.” 

So, at least one person did know who you were. You tried not to focus on the snickering comment Poppy made, “Sebastian is really giving you the VIP treatment, huh?” You couldn’t admit that you wished he would give you that in all regards. Instead, you choose to sit down in your seat, straightening out your clothes and looking over the field. It was a grey, overcast day so you were thankful that Sebastian had loaned you such a warm sweater.

There were a few players lingering about, walking the pitch and likely chatting about strategies for the game. Your eyes grazed over them subconsciously, trying to spot a certain brunette. When your eyes finally caught on his freckled face, you couldn’t help but smile. It only took a few moments before he seemed to notice you watching him, and he returned your smile. He quickly turned back to his teammate, muttering something before turning to jog towards you instead.

“Hi,” Sebastian said when he reached you, cheeks flushed from the jog and the wind. The smile on his face was genuinely bright. He looked so ecstatic to see you that you worried your expressions wouldn’t look nearly as real. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“And I’m so happy to be here. Thank you again for the tickets.”

“It’s really no problem, anything for you.”

The air caught in your throat. Something in the way he said it made child-like butterflies appear in your stomach and a blush cover your cheeks. Sebastian just continued to look at you, his eyes passing over each of your features, taking his time as if he was studying you. Eventually his eyes met yours again and somehow both of your smiles grew bigger, despite the odds. You were so lost in each other, in the silent communication that passed between your forms, that neither of you seemed to register the blow of the whistle that signaled that the game would be starting momentarily. 

It was only when Poppy bumped you with her shoulder, that you snapped back to reality and realized what was happening. “I believe that’s your signal,” you shared sheepishly. “Good luck, Seb. Don’t disappoint me.” You didn’t even process your use of the nickname. It had been years since you had last called him that, the name reserved only for moments that the two of you had been alone, tucked in the undercroft or room of requirement. Its presence in this moment felt both right and novel, like you were extending an olive branch that neither of you had sought out before.

“I’ll do my best for you, I promise.”

“OI! Kiss her for good luck mate. We need to win this game!” Neither of you had noticed the audience you held, but as you turned around your eyes landed on a group of men, all dressed in Scotland attire. One of them was grinning maniacally and you could see his friends trying to hold back laughs as they tried to shush him. 

You turned back to Sebastian, who had his eyebrow raised, as if silently requesting permission. Before you could think any better of it, you gave him a slight nod. You could feel your whole body heat as he stepped forward, closing the space between you and putting his hand on your cheek. As he leaned in, your eyes fluttered close. 

The feeling of his lips on yours was electrifying, a feeling only rivaled by a surge of ancient magic coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure which one of you deepened the kiss, but it only took a moment for Sebastian’s form to be pressed against your’s, his other hand finding purchase in your hair.

It was only when the second whistle sounded, and Ominis cleared his throat, that you two finally parted. Sebastian took a step back. “I believe that’s my signal to get going.”

You could only nod, your throat growing dry. Sebastian smiled at you again and you were thankful that at least one of you seemed to be handling this well.

“I’ll see you after the game, sweetheart.” He offered one last smile, before turning around and jogging to the rest of his teammates.

The moment he left, you practically collapsed back into your chair, feeling intensely out of breath. 

“Do you need some water?” Poppy asked, clearly trying her best not to laugh at your state.

“Please.”

⋆｡°✩

The game was afoot, the players spiraling in wide arcs overhead. Theoretically you knew the rules to quidditch. You had watched quite a few games during your time at Hogwarts, but you were still at a disadvantage compared to most of wizardkind. The feeling had grown less uncomfortable over the years, as you had become more accustomed to the wizarding world. Regardless, your friends’ comments on the game left you feeling dazed and slightly confused.

You did your best efforts to focus on Sebastian, figuring that someone in the crowd must have had a camera pointed at you. It would sound a little self-obsessed if you were to admit those thoughts outloud, but these days, you could never be sure.

The score was 100 to 60, with Scotland in the lead. The snitch had yet to be caught, so it looked likely that the game would continue for a while, much to your dismay. Although you enjoyed watching Sebastian play, and could see the passion he had for the sport with every swing, the kiss had left you reeling. You felt a combination of content, dizzy, and slightly nauseous. You wanted to lay down and think through your feelings, process the fact that Sebastian had finally kissed you. The man that you had been in love with since you were 15 years old had kissed you and it felt world shattering. But, as your treacherous mind wanted to keep reminding you, it was fake. It was part of the ruse, and Sebastian had only done it because of pressure from the spectators. You couldn’t fully accept that explanation though, no matter how hard you had tried. Sure, the relationship was technically fake, but the kiss had felt so real. The way Sebastian had flushed himself against you, ran his fingers through your hair… it felt real to you.

The world had grown more damp, a slight drizzle falling from the gray sky. Your attention kept wandering, until you suddenly heard a commotion, and shouts overhead. Your eyes quickly snapped up, and to your horror you saw a bludger, shot from across the field, racing in the exact direction where you and your friends were sitting. Most of the players’ attention had been focused on the far goal, which belonged to Wales, where the quaffle was currently being passed back and forth. There was no way that any beater would be able to make it down field in time.

You knew the saying well, that in high intensity situations people often choose fight, flight, or freeze. Your years of using ancient magic to clear out poacher camps, fight goblins, etc, had left you as the fight type. But something in you, in this moment of time, froze. 

It was like you were seeing the scene in slow motion, first spotting the bludger, the recognition it was headed towards your part of the crowd, and the acceptance that, with your horrible streak of luck lately, that it would probably hit you.

But it didn’t. You didn’t spot Sebastian racing down the field, until he was in front of it. His bat was extended and the bludger should have hit it. It didn’t. Instead, somehow, Sebastian took it straight to his chest. You heard the sickening crunch of bone. Before you could even let out a gasp, Sebastian was plummeting towards the ground, hitting with a hard thud. A whistle was called, pausing the game.

You jumped to your feet, your momentary frozen state resolved. You needed to get to him, you needed to make sure that he was okay… You needed to make sure he was alive. 

Poppy tried to grab your hand, explaining that they certainly had medical staff on the sidelines, but you barely registered her pleas. Soon enough you were running, the slick turf coming up to meet your feet with each step.

You made it to him before anyone else. He was slumped on his side, eyes closed, curls damp from the game. You quickly rolled him onto his back, doing your best to assess the damage with a clinical eye, despite the fact your hands were shaking. He was still breathing, thank Merlin.

“Sebastian… Seb, can you open your eyes for me?” Your voice shook as you made your plea, hope intertwining with desperation.

It took a moment, but he did. He stared up at you, concern etched in your face, and the bastard had the audacity to smile. It was then that the other medical staff finally reached you.

“Ma’am, please step aside,” one of the medics urged, as you began running your hands down his chest, using your magic to check for fractured ribs.

“I’m a physician,” you stated calmly, continuing to probe. There were at least four separate fractures from what you could tell. He would need treatment as soon as possible.

The medic began to argue, but Sebastian responded instead, voice strung with pain. “Listen to her. Whatever she wants to do, do it.” You startled for a moment, surprised by his trust in you. Regardless, you listened, and returned to the conversation with the medic.

“He has numerous fractures in his rib cage. We need to get him to St Mungo’s, now.” An attempt at an argument had died with Sebastian’s statement, so the medic just nodded. 

“If we can get him over to the medic tent, we have a port key.” You simply nodded.

“Perfect, now, help me lift him.” Sebastian began to protest, but upon finding that he was unable to sit up on his own, he resided in being placed on a stretcher. 

Your POV

When you finally began to stir from sleep, all you knew was that the warmth that had surrounded you for the past few hours had receded. You cracked your eyes open slowly, expecting to find your white sheets and that you had simply kicked your comforter to the floor again, but instead you were greeted by a deep grey. When you finally sat up, resting on your elbows and stomach, you looked around the room, piecing it together. You were in Sebastian’s room. Sunlight was streaming in through the single, tall window, so it had to be later in the day. Your scrubs were missing from your form, instead replaced by a worn green T-shirt. 

Your call phone lay on the table beside you, which you quickly checked. No calls. It was around 9 am, so you were officially off shift until 7 pm that night. You let out a sigh of relief. If you had slept so deeply that you had forgotten what happened only a few hours prior, it was fully possible that you had missed hearing your phone.

You finally peeled yourself from the bed, figuring it was probably best to find Sebastian. Opening the door, you padded down the small hallway lined with mostly photos of Sebastian and his teammates, but a few of friends and family as well. Your fingers traced along the rim of the frames, until one caught your eye. Sebastian and Anne couldn't have been older than four, nestled in between two adults that had to have been their parents. Their mother was beaming down at the twins, while their father was ruffling Sebastian’s already disheveled hair affectionately. The older man had the same mop of brown hair, freckles adorning his cheeks in odd patterns, just like his son. He looked so much like his father it made your heart skip a small beat. You had never known what your parents had looked like, but a small part of you had always hoped you looked something like them. The loop on the picture restarted and you were snapped back to reality, beginning to make your way down the hall again. Somehow, you had the lingering feeling that you had intruded on something private, not meant for your eyes, nor anyone else’s.

When you finally made it into the kitchen, you were a little surprised to find Sebastian at the stove. He was humming softly, flipping something over before he finally seemed to register your presence and turned, flashing you one of those brilliant smiles that seemed to be reserved for the newspaper. “Good morning sleepy head,” he said, eyes raking over your form. It was hard to miss how his eyes seemed to catch on your hips and it was in that moment that you fully realized you weren't wearing any pants. Sure, Sebastian's shirt was long enough on you to cover everything while you were standing… but not by much. A blush quickly spread over your face, and you moved quickly to sit at one of his bar stools, daring to hide the skin from view.

Sebastian seemed to snap out of it, gaze going back to the pan and the stove in front of him. “Are eggs okay for breakfast?”

You shrugged. “Of course… I’m not going to complain about food. But, you wouldn't happen to have any coffee, would you?”

“I thought you mainly drank tea.” Sebastian finally dared to look at you again, throwing an inquisitive look over his shoulder. You shrugged.

“I don't discriminate against any forms of caffeine. Especially when I'm on night call.”

That gained a chuckle from his lips, the first one you had heard in a few days. You relished it; it gave you a mysterious feeling of success, one that could only be traced back to the giddy feeling you got when he first praised your dueling skills. “Well give me a second sleepyhead, let me finish the eggs first.”

You smiled and left him to it. Typically you would offer to help, often hating the idea of others doing everything for you. But given your lack of pants, you figured it was best to just sit for now, lest risk flashing Sebastian.

Soon enough, a plate of eggs was placed in front of you, along with a mug of black coffee. Typically you wouldn’t dare drink it straight, but after muttering an obligatory thank you Sebastian, you took a sip. Then you start into the eggs, surprise crossing over your face at the first bit.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook?”

“Well, I have had to fend for myself for the better part of a decade.” You laughed, moving your stool over a bit as he sat down next to you with his own plate.

“I know. It's just a bit surprising you're this good at it.”

“Why would it be?” His eyes crinkled at the corners a bit, pressed in by the smile that stretched across his face.

“Because potions was the one class I didn't have to put extra effort into getting higher marks than you.” Sebastian let out a bark of a laugh, and you couldn’t help but smile adoringly at him. It was rare to see him this happy. In fact, you were never quite sure you had.

Sebastian’s POV

He really didn't like his eyes right now. Or maybe he adored them. Either way, he wasn’t sure. 

When he woke up that morning, part of him was surprised to find you practically sprawled all over him. For some who seemed distant, hesitant to touch him, you certainly weren’t behaving that way now. Your leg was tangled between his, your arm was sprawled across his chest. Correction: your bare leg was tangled between his. Your bare arm was sprawled across his chest. While he certainly liked the feeling, a part of him was worried that this was pushing some boundary. That you had felt it your responsibility to stay with him while he was having a mini crisis and now you were in his bed. To watch him. To make sure he was okay. And he wasn’t doing the same for you now.

Thus, he slowly began to untangle himself, pulling himself away as gently as possible. When you had come to him last night it was hard not to notice the exhaustion etched onto your face. Even when his eyes had been flooded with tears he had picked up on it, and thus he thought it best to let you sleep.

When finally managed his extraction and was able to pull himself to the bed, he headed towards the bathroom. His flat could be cold in the mornings, and today was no exception. The floor practically made slippers a requirement.

When his reflection finally appeared in the mirror, hands gripping both sides of the white wash basin, he was surprised to find that he looked incrementally less rough than he usually did after night terrors. He supposed he had a few hours of calm sleep he managed to get to thank for that - calm sleep he only got because of you. 

You, who was still curled up in his bed at this very moment.

You, who he wished could be there everyday for the rest of his short, tortured life. Perhaps you could make it all better.

He let out an audible sigh and shook his head, pulling himself upright. He had always had the overwhelming feeling that it was futile to wish for good things in his life. Sure, his quidditch career had taken off, better than he ever could have imagined. But the pieces of himself that he wished he could sort out, namely his relationships with his family and friends, always seemed out of reach. And then there was you and the way you seemed to always stick in his mind. He had been entranced by you since the moment you had entered the great hall in 5th year- Sebastian had always loved a mystery. A beautiful, intelligent, witty, and brave girl being attached to it was just a massive perk. So he sought to befriend you, and was successful. You were as thick as thieves, until he managed to tear it all down, and you closed off to him, seemingly forever. The way everyone else had done just the same, detaching themselves from him and placing enough distance in between that they were safe from whatever unknown illness he carried. Until the melancholy that seemed to haunt him couldn’t ruin their sunny day. Until last night, he hadn't really dared share much more vulnerability than your conversation on Saturday, when he finally talked about his family for the first time in a long time. 

But now he had shared his torment, or at least part of it. And you had stayed. You stayed when you didn’t have to, when no reasonable person would have expected you to. You had showed up at his door, hugged him, and then followed him up the stairs when you could have just left and gone back to the hospital, or home, or wherever it was you chose to spend your night call. But you had stayed. You had changed out of your scrubs and into one of his shirts. You had crawled into bed with him, and held him until the sobbing subsided. You had stayed.

And fuck, the least he could do is let you sleep enough and make you breakfast.

So he set to his mission, walking to the kitchen and going through the motions. He pulled out a pan, turns on the stove, retrieves butter, eggs, and his very prized orange juice from the fridge. He made toast and by the time he was done with the sausage and is ready to start on the eggs, you emerged from the bedroom, sleep still riddling your face.

But that isn't the only thing he noticed. No, of course his eyes had to be attracted to it: how absolutely, blasted short his shirt was on you. Sure, everything is still covered… but a lot wasn’t. The soft curve of your legs was tantalizing, so much so that he longed for nothing more than to march across the room, grab you, and kiss you senseless. In all honesty, he longed to do so much more than that. But he knew that he couldn’t, so he simply smiled at you, bid you good morning, and turned around, both in an effort to hide his blush and the growing presence down low. He turned his attention back to the eggs and willed his brain to stop replaying the image of you standing there, in his apartment, wearing his clothes in his head.

Your POV

After eating, and finally managing to get a sip of Sebastian’s prized orange juice (which, if you were being honest… was sort of mid), you had slipped back into your scrubs before trying to help clear up dishes. Sebastian refused, bumping you away with his hip whenever you got to close, until laughter had overtaken both of your forms.

“So what's your plan for the rest of the day?” He finally asked, once he had managed to finally return to a semi-serious state. You shrugged, taking another sip of your coffee.

“Well, I'm back on call tonight. So probably try and stay up for a while, then get at least a nap in. How about you?” Your lower back was pressed against the counter, studying him as he washed each dish.

“I have a few training drills this afternoon, but nothing too rigorous. Coach likes to go easier on us in the couple days before a big game. Make sure we have enough energy, don't injure ourselves, all that.” You simply nodded in response.

“Do you eat dinner before you go to work? Maybe we can grab a bite together.”

“Are you asking me on a non-scheduled date, Sebastian Sallow?” You wiggled your eye brows and laughed when he elbowed you in response, surprised at how easy you found it to send that. Despite the inherent awkwardness of waking up in his bed, somehow it felt like something had clicked back into place last night. It was almost as if in showing you true vulnerability once again, in letting you in, Sebastian had shown you that at least a piece of the boy you had once fallen for still remained. 

“I mean, if we're truly supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, it's a bit suspect if we're only seen together on the weekends. Seems like we don't actually make time for each other.”

“I'm a doctor, Sebastian. It's in my basic job description to have a lack of time for my personal life.”

“But you still make time for me.” He said, pausing his washing for a moment to meet your eyes.

“Okay, fair enough. But that's only because you make me breakfast and give me coffee. Not at all because I like spending time with you. It's entirely self-serving, truly.” 

“Good to know that the way to your heart is calories and caffeine.” He laughed, motioning towards the coffee machine. “I'll make sure to put that thing to good use.”

You blushed almost instantly at his words, the implication hanging heavy in the air. How did one even begin to respond to that? You weren’t sure. After a few moments, Sebastian seemed to realize the awkwardness that laced what he had just said. He cleared his throat, eventually breaking the silence.

“Anyway… what time are you planning on getting to the game on Saturday?” You were thankful for the change of topic.

“We were planning on being there an hour before, but obviously it depends on what time everyone is ready.” Sebastian nodded, moving to refill your cup.

“I can’t wait,” he said, eyes locking with yours as he poured.

You swallowed a breath. “Me neither. But, truthfully, I probably shouldn’t do dinner tonight. How about I take you out after the game?”

The smile he gave you warmed your heart a bit, heat spreading down your face. 

“I can’t wait.”

⋆｡°✩

When Friday finally sank its teeth in, you found yourself off call, your only objective being to try and flip your sleep schedule back to normal waking hours. You failed spectacularly, only slinking into your living room a little past 3 pm, finding Ominis prepping dinner.

“Funny seeing you here,” the blonde said, momentarily stopping his wand from chopping carrots. “I was beginning to think I was imagining having a roommate.” 

You sat yourself down on the couch, pulling one of the many throw blankets you kept around onto your lap, trying to starve off the post sleep chill.

“Very funny. At least I knew you were here, although that is mostly due to your snoring.” 

Ominis feigned a mock offended look, letting out a small scoff. “I do not snore!”

“I’ll be sure to record it next time. Now, do we have any coffee… or tea… or anything with caffeine. I’m not picky.” The blonde shook his head and sighed, raising his wand once again and moved to a cabinet to retrieve the requested ingredients. 

“It’s almost like you also live here and should know where all those items are.”

“I do… but out of the kindness in your heart, can you find it in yourself to prepare some tea for me? I will be forever indebted.” You knew Ominis liked to fake offense, truly, it was one of his greatest talents. But you also knew, deep down, that he liked doing things for those he held dear. If you had thought about it any deeper, perhaps it would always boil down to a relative lack of warm, familial relationships in his life… But it was too early in the day for your clinician’s brain to be working so hard. Besides, that would make you feel more guilty for abusing that tendency so often.

“I’m not Sebastian you know. I won’t just make you tea because you’re you! I only do it because you’re insufferable without caffeine.”

“What on Earth is that supposed to mean?” You shot him a withering look as he brought a mug filled with hot water and a tea bag over to you, before sinking down into the couch beside you.

“Just that I know where you spent yesterday morning.” You found yourself desperately wanting to wipe the smirk off the blonde’s face at that moment, but opted to regain your composure and sip your beverage instead. 

“How did you know that?” You finally asked, pinning him down with what you hoped was your best threatening glare.

“I didn’t.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his own beverage. “I just made an educated guess. You got back much later than usual yesterday morning. I know that your patients don’t keep you that long. But, thank you for confirming it for me. Glad to know that I was right, per usual.”

The sputter you let out would be comical for any other reason. Instead, you just found yourself growing annoyed. Peeling yourself from the couch, you stood, taking your mug with you. 

“I’m going to go shower.”

“Need to look pretty for Sebastian?”