how full of briars

Darius could practically feel the warmth radiating through him as she smiled up at him. This was really happening, something he thought he’d ruined so long ago. His mind was whirling of thoughts, of where they would go and what they would do. He still had enough money left over from his parents, and his savings from the bar, that they could set themselves up. And then it would be entirely up to the two of them – together.

“Come as early as you want,” he replied, pressing a light kiss to her lips - the first of what he hoped would be the rest of their lives, “I’ll be here.”

“Me too,” she said with a curt nod before laughing again. She was forever saying more than she needed to, but for some reason she was not nearly as bothered by herself while Darius stood smiling at her, planning their tomorrows. “Mean — ‘course I will. Just said as much, yeah?” She perked up on the balls of her feet, pecking him on the lips again.

Darius let out a small laugh as Ros all but launched herself over the bar towards him, his hands going to her waist to make sure she didn’t fall. “We could,” he repeated, his voice not more than a whisper. What had always seemed like something so out of reach suddenly felt real, felt doable. With the world falling down around them, they could leave and build a world of their own.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated, one hand going up to cup her face, thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. He was trying to remember a time that he felt this happy, this hopeful, but he was coming up blank. “I love you.”

As she leaned into his touch, Ros turned her face inward until her smile was buried in the palm of his hand. “I love you, too,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. Some part of her urged her to stay that way forever, for fear that the entire scene would dissolve like a dream if she were to reopen her eyes. But it wasn’t a dream, she reminded herself. She could feel the bar’s edge against her stomach and his hand on the small of her back. His breath was so close it sent her hair astray. She opened her eyes. 

“We could just go.” The words left Darius’ mouth before he even had a chance to think them, but once they had been said – and now they were lingering in the air between them – Darius believed them. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t said them before. Too many things keeping him, but now Cress was about to be a mother, and all of his friends, well – there was nothing keeping him where he was. Nothing except Ros.

“Could we?” Ros stared at him a moment, positively dumbstruck. It was as if he’d read her mind. The thought of running away with Darius had long been an impossible dream, but with four words from him it became a reality. It was as if he’d scooped the intangible fantasy from her mind and given it form. Made it as tactile as the bar that separated them. A smile fluttered on the corner of her mouth and swiftly turned to a peel of laughter. “We could,” she said. She gave a short hop and pushed herself further over the bar to kiss him. 

“I –” his confidence wavered slightly. The certainty that he’d felt before. He knew what he said was true, but now he’d said it he felt guilty. That he’d pulled her away from safety. But on the other hand he felt light. Like he’d been holding his breath and was finally able to breath again now he’d said those words. Looking at Ros, he knew that he would always choose her above all else. Nothing was going to change for him. She made him happier than anyone else ever good, like they were in a bubble and the world was passing them by. And those were the feelings that were stronger. The ones that outweighed all the worry, all the questions and uncertainties. “S’always you,” he murmured, his hand brushing her hair behind her ear. 

His heart was beating fast, almost ready to beat out of his chest, as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t –” he started, his voice barely a whisper but sounding so loud in the silence of the pub. 

“Love you too. Still. Always, I think.”

He felt himself laughing at her words, a genuine laugh, however small, leaving his lips for the first time in longer than he could remember. It felt good, warming him from the inside. The world around them was in pieces and so was he, but Ros always somehow managed to make it seem less bad. I — I ought to be going, I reckon. Her words caused a small frown to cross his face, a slight furrow in his brow. “Wait –” He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t know when he’d see her again, if they would stumble across each others paths like they had a few times in the past. Acting more on instinct than rational thought, his heart ignoring his head and everything he had been telling himself earlier, Darius’ hand went to her cheek, closing the gap between them. 

“Always,” he repeated again, stressing the word as his eyes flickered down to where she’d put her hand on his. It had been the first time they had any sort of contact in almost a year but it felt natural, like it hadn’t been any time at all. In that moment, Darius felt like the past year of them being apart, of rarely seeing each other, hadn’t even happened. His feelings, although not the strong yearning of new love he’d once felt, never faded. The girls he’d been with to try and distract himself from the constant thoughts of her never dented. They were just distractions and were gone as quickly as they had arrived. It would always be her, he knew that. He’d always care. Always worry. Always wonder, and always love, no matter where their lives went. But he still couldn’t say those three words. It would be selfish to say it. He couldn’t put her life in that kind of danger again. Putting down the glass he was still holding, he stepped closer, giving her his undivided attention this time. 

“Could never say anything less ‘bout you.”

Ros exhaled and, without meaning to, let out a chirp of laughter. A featherlight touch, a purposeful look — and she was ruined. A bird fighting furiously against a wind tunnel. Her hand felt suddenly bloodless where it lay on top of his. She did not know whether to tear it away it or hold on to him for dear life. “Well,” she managed, not yet daring to move. “You’d have to talk loads more to say less about me, yeah?” 

“You –” Darius wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew what he wanted to say. He could say it back, and he wouldn’t be lying. Even after all this time, Ros was constantly in his thoughts like a shining beacon of light through the darkness around them. It was a battle of head and heart, of knowing that keeping her away from him would keep her safe versus the feeling that they could be happy and risk everything. Despite it all, he couldn’t help the flicker of a smile as she carried on in such typical Ros fashion. 

“I think –” Darius started, picking up a glass to polish as he spoke, finding it easier to talk with the distraction. “I know – ‘M always gonna care about you, Rosie,” he said, glancing up at her face quickly, not sure how to continue with what needed to be said.

Rosie, and Ros’ heart began to fight against the confines of her chest. It was a furious, fluttering thing, at once too big and too small. Her eyes flit across his face, hoping to find some secret trace of something more in the slip of his smile, or the creases that sprouted from the corners of his eyes as he concentrated on the freshly polished glass in his hand. Darius, who had once left a pureblood girl for her, who had put his life in danger to walk away from those who would harm her, who had turned his back on his own family for the sake of their relationship, still cared for her and always would. It wasn’t a declaration of undying love, or a gut-wrenching ballad, or anything like Ros had imagined in the daydreams and fantasies she’d spun since she was a little girl, but after everything between them, she decided it was quite enough for her. “Always,” she repeated and loosened her grip on her glass. She reached out toward him and placed her own unsteady hand over his, putting a stop to his polishing. “You don’t say much, Darius, y’know that? But s’always the loveliest things when you do.”

Darius stopped what he was doing with the glasses, unable to focus on the menial task with the conversation that was currently going on. He opened his mouth to talk, but Ros continued talking so he kept quiet. He knew what she had done with leaving him was for the best, that it would protect her in a way that he never could had she chosen to stay. And even now all he wanted to do was keep her as far away from the mess of the war, to keep her safe and happy. There was a flicker of a smile at her admission, one that only lasted a few moments before he spoke. “Ros –.” 

“Well –” Darius frowned slightly as he talked. “Reckon you had your reasons.”

Darius ducked his head, suddenly finding a stubborn spot on one of the glasses in the hope that Ros wouldn’t see the smile that flickered across his face at her words. She’d always had that effect on him and, by the look of it, always would. 

“Cheers,” Darius cleared his throat, putting down the glass as he looked up at her once again. “Missed you too, for what it’s worth.”

“Loads,” Ros answered without a beat, perking up in her seat before she could stop herself. Swallowing, she drew back into the barstool slowly and averted her eyes to the stack of glasses he’d just set straight. “’Mean — it means loads to me, anyway. ‘Specially after the way I went ‘n ended things.”