O B S C U R U S

               Caring for him in spite of everything that had come to pass between them. 

      A hesitant glance upwards towards the blood splattered, still expression Gellert wore -- Credence hesitated. He knew how much the man despised his touches when unsolicited. But to that point he hadn’t uttered a word against it. He hadn’t breathed a single syllable or complaint while he had been moved to be cleaned. Perhaps this time it would be alright. 

✿ ———— beauty and the beast sentence starters | accepting

      Statuesque and nearly breathless where he stood, Credence found himself staring ahead and seeing nothing. Body numbing with every second of deprivation as those words sunk in bit by bit. Those words -- they were like the sharpest knives. Digging straight through yielding flesh and striking the marrow of his existence. They resonated with a voice that had been in his ear for years -- and the roiling thing at his very core. A beast. That’s what he was. There was no doubt in his mind that what Gellert spoke was an absolute truth. He knew the world. Knew the minds of muggles and wizards alike. Knew what they were thinking even in the most private recesses of their minds. 

      Which meant there wasn’t a thread of hope for a creature like Credence. Not in this life or the next. Nothing could change the amalgamation of a thing he was. Even if he had hoped. Yearned for it. Dreamt of it on the darkest night. 

   Who could ever love a beast like him? A monster in the eyes of every living thing and God. 

      “ I -- ” the word cracked and hollowed, face pale as he stared down at his shoes. He knew he was crying - silent tears falling without him meaning to. Weakness. A revolting trait in him that he knew would only gain ire rather than sympathy. But he couldn’t stop them. “ I just . . . I had . . . hoped. ” Each syllable strained to rise barely above a whisper as his head dropped forward - shame rolling off him as he finally moved. Arms wrapped around himself as he bit back the weeping he felt building at the back of his throat. 

      “ . . . no one could. That’s only f-for. . . for fairytales, ” he managed after a shuddering inhale, eyes fluttering shut as he pushed away from the window he stood before. Eyes downcast and tension bled from him - leaving only defeat and a strange, oozing darkness that seemed to roll off of him in translucent waves. 

      With every news clipping of Grindelwald’s activities and travesties that made their way into Credence’s path, his demeanor openly changed. Fear etched into normally stoic lines and an odd restlessness that was out of place on the odd auror. For he knew deep down that somehow - someway - Grindelwald knew who he was. Knew he was alive. It was only a matter of time before the man caught up to him and outed his past deeds. His very existence and affliction -- and use it. 

      Because for all the time that had past, training and growth Credence had underwent? He knew he would be weak in the man’s presence. His past would easily catch back up to him and he would be the shell of a person he once was. 

      A sudden jolt behind him startled Credence from his thoughts - eyes jerking away from the articles pinned to the wall and to his shoulder. Soft, small hands began to poke and prod at him as wide eyes shifted into view - his demiguise. Had he been so predictable in his own melancholy and tears? He must have -- but as his ever-present and on guard “nanny” began to make quick work of his hair. . . Credence couldn’t contain his laugh. 

      Loud and warm as he squirmed where he stood - uncaring of the gawking of the others nearby as he withstood the grooming of a lifetime.