#enjoy!!!

"Tell me about her." You said, offering some help. Andrew paused for a moment, thinking, before he told you about Cath. The way she looked and her personality, and with a few curious questions from you, he told you what kind of a mother she was and how she decorated her home.

"That one." You stated confidently as you pointed to the flowers in Andrews left hand. "They're as bright and strong as she is." You gave him a smile before moving over to where the flower stand owner was with his money box. Andrew stared at you for moment as you talked to the owner before looking back down at the bouquets in his hands. He decided you were right and placed the other bouquet back where he'd grabbed it.

"She's a lucky woman," You called out to Andrew as you moved away from the stand, walking backwards. "Have a nice day!" You walked off with a happy skip in your step and Andrew watched you go as he stepped up to the owner, his hand reaching for his wallet in his coat pocket.

"It's already been covered buddy." The owner said, making Andrew look at him.

"What?"

"That lady paid for your bouquet for you." He replied nonchalantly.

"Why?" Andrew asked, genuinely confused. Why would you do that? You didn't even know him.

"She said you looked down and upset," The owner said, gesturing at Andrews face. "She thought paying for your flowers would make you smile." The owner shrugged, not interested in the act of kindness in the slightest. Andrew turned around looking for you but you'd disappeared into the crowd. He stood there for a moment, scanning the street for your blue dress, hoping to see you. But you were gone.

Andrew didn't know what to think of your kind gesture. He'd never experienced something like this before. Every nice deed done for him was always followed with the expectation of a favour in the future. Nice deeds were conditional and transactional in his life, they were never given to Andrew without strings attached. Nice deeds were never actually nice.

But what you'd just done for him was.

You had no ulterior motive, you left the stand without even waiting for a thank you from him or an acknowledgment of a good deed done. You didn't even know Andrew. You did something nice, not knowing you'd affected Andrew deeply. You'd just been another costumer, someone picking up a bouquet of beautiful flowers on your way home, who decided to show Andrew some kindness just because you felt like it. Who paid for his flowers because you thought it would make him smile. Who thought he was deserving of a nice gesture.

Andrew thought about you for the rest of day, even when he gave Cath the flowers, even when he and Baz went over the details for the robbery. Andrew thought about you after he was arrested, arraigned and sentenced. He thought about you all 1,123 days of his prison sentence, about your smile and your eyes and your voice. He imagined you as he fell asleep and you were his first thought in the morning. He created a fantasy to help him through the tedious days, the madness of solitary confinement, the torture from the guards. He told the other prisoners about his kind girlfriend who loved flowers and making people smile who was waiting for him on the outside. Andrew thought about you so much until he genuinely believed that you were his, that he was meant to meet you right before he was arrested, like a guardian angel who would help him survive the last 3 years. Even if you didn't know it.

And Andrew vowed that when he was released, he'd find you again and make you his.

And that's exactly what Andrew did. Find you that is.

After reuniting with his family and getting set up in a motel for the foreseeable future, Andrew returns to the street he first saw you. He even finds the flower stand and the owner, but the man is less than helpful and doesn't want to do Andrew any favours.

So Andrew wanders up and down the street, day after day, for a whole week, looking for you. He stays in the area and sits for hours on a bench in view of the flower stand, his eyes scanning the street for your beautiful face. As the days dragged on Andrew tried to not get discouraged by all the different possibilities in front of him. You could have moved away, you could be in the hospital, you could have dyed your hair and made yourself unrecognizable to him. Your trip to the flower stand might have been a fluke instead of something you did in your weekly routine, meaning Andrew probably wasn't going to find you again.

On Friday he decided to branch out, combing the adjacent streets for your sparkling eyes and bright smile. Around three in the afternoon he decided to stop inside a diner on the corner to grab a quick bite to eat before returning to his search. A bright red haired woman in her fifties behind the counter told Andrew to sit wherever he wanted as she busied herself with refilling the napkin dispensers during the mid afternoon lull. Andrew sat at a booth in the corner, his back to the wall and the whole room visible to him. He glanced down for a second at the menu already on the table and was disturbed a moment later by a beautifully familiar voice.

"Do you need a minute, or can I get something started for you?" Andrews head snapped up to look at the waitress standing next to his table and saw that it was you. The girl of his dreams, the topic of all his thoughts and fantasies for the past three years, the person who'd kept him going through all the pain and agony in prison was standing in front of him, real and alive.

Andrew was staring, he knew that he was, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. You were wearing a yellow waitress uniform, which you were of course pulling off well. Your hair was away from your face like last time, probably for hygiene purposes at work, and you stood ready to take his order with the tip of your pen resting on an open notepad. Your fingernails were manicured and well maintained and there was a freckle on the back of your hand that he'd never noticed before.

"Sir?" You prompted, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. Andrew blinked, probably for the first time in a full minute, and swallowed hard, doing nothing to sooth his incredibly dry throat. His eyes flickered to the neckline of your uniform and he could see a heart shaped locket around your neck. Were you a romantic? Was it a family heirloom, something sentimental? Or was it a gift from an old boyfriend? Or worse, a current one?

"Coffee, black," He managed to say, his heart beating rapidly against his ribs. "Please." He added on, remembering his manners. You gave him a tentative smile and nodded.

"I'll go grab that for you and give you some time with the menu." You spun around on your heel - you were wearing sensible, rubber soled shoes - and headed to the coffee machine. Andrew watched you go and noted the spring in your step that was identical to the one you had when he saw you three years ago. Was that how you walked all the time or did you only do that when you were happy? Were you happy right now?

You moved around the diner with ease, clearly comfortable here, and Andrew realized that you must have worked here for a while. You snagged a white coffee mug from behind the counter and poured Andrew a mug of hot coffee. He knew he only had about sixty seconds before you returned to the table but he couldn't bring himself to pull his eyes away from you.

This felt like fate. Andrew had loitered near the flower stand for almost a full week and the first day he explores the adjoining streets, he walks into your diner when you're on shift and sits in your section. There were so many things that could have happened differently and he would have missed you completely. But that hadn't happened. Instead he found you, and it felt the universe or God was telling him this was meant to be. That he was meant to find you again.

You set the coffee down in front of Andrew and raised your notepad again, smile on your face.

"Know what you want?"

"Um," Andrew clearly his throat as quietly as he could. He looked lamely down at the menu, unsure what to get. He decided to take a risk. "What do you recommend?"

"Oh I'd recommend any of the breakfast items, but that's because I love breakfast food. If you're looking for more lunch options I'd say the classic burger or the club sandwich is a good bet." Andrew glanced down at the menu and picked the first breakfast item he saw.

"I'll have the classic breakfast." His choice seemed to delight you, your smile transforming from a tentative one reserved for customers to a real one, big and bright. Your smile warmed Andrew like the California sun and he felt it all the way into his toes.

"Excellent choice, I'll get that started for you. Just flag me down if you need anything else." You spun around again and headed off the the kitchen, the skirt of your uniform swishing as you walked. Andrew blinked once you were out of sight, coming back to himself. He turned his attention to the steaming mug of coffee in front of him and played the interaction with you over and over in his head.

The way your eyes crinkled as you smiled. How you tapped the tip of your pen on your notepad when you answered his question. How you liked breakfast food.

Andrew filed all of this information away in his brain. There was still a lot that Andrew needed to learn. Your name was one thing. None of the waitresses were wearing nametags so Andrew would have to ask you for your name or figure it out some other way. Andrew also needed to learn what your work schedule was so he could return to the diner on a day you were working.

You brought out Andrews plate of food after a few minutes and ended up making his life easier by offering your name up voluntarily to him. You told him your name and told him to raise his hand or call out to you if he needed anything. And just like that you were gone again, off to refill coffees for the handful of other people in the diner. Andrew said your name softly to himself, rolling the letters around his tongue and lips, getting used to the feeling. He liked how your name sounded, he felt like it fit you well.

Andrew ate slowly over the next hour, doing what he could to prolong the meal and keep observing you. After getting over the initial shock of seeing you he started to regain his composure and watched you the same way he would case a joint before he robbed it. He was careful to not look too long or draw attention from you, the staff, or other costumers. He made note of how the other staff interacted with you and how you behaved with the other costumers. When he needed coffee refills, he called you over by catching your eye and raising his hand, and he kept the small talk light and short. All the information was filed away and stored for whenever Andrew might need it.

By the time Andrew finished his meal the dinner rush was just starting to trickle in and he knew he'd have to observe you from outside the diner for the rest of the evening. He stood, pulling out his wallet and dropping a wad of bills on the table while you were seating an elderly couple and hanging up their jackets for them.

Kind as always. Andrew thought to himself.

Andrew passed you as he walked towards the exit and your head snapped up towards him, probably concerned he was dining and dashing. You looked over at the table he'd vacated and saw the stack of bills, your concern evaporating. You wished him a good day and headed to the table to grab the money.

Andrew moved to a spot across the street where he could see you through the diner window but you couldn't see him. He watched as you counted the bills three times, your brows furrowing more and more with each count. You looked up and out the window, your eyes scanning the street for Andrew but you didn't see him.

He'd left a fifty dollar tip on a fifteen dollar meal.

Andrew wanted you to have it. Pretty soon he'd be paying for everything for you and you wouldn't have to worry about making ends meet, he'd take care of you. But for now he could help you out with some cash.

Andrew spent the rest of the day watching you from a spot that couldn't be seen by security cameras in the area or by people passing by. He didn't want anyone to notice him or question what he was doing. At the end of the night when the diner closed at ten, you walked to your car alone in the dark. Andrews mouth twitched in annoyance, his feet begging to move forward and escort you to your car but he stayed put in the shadows.

You shouldn't be walking alone in the dark anywhere, much less in the parking lot after work. Anyone could be waiting for you in the dark, hiding just out of sight. Andrew would fix this habit soon enough. He'll walk you to your car after every shift, hell, he'll pick you up after every shift and drive you home himself. You shouldn't have to drive yourself home after a long day spent on your feet. If you'd let him, Andrew would carry you around after your shifts so you could rest your aching feet.

Andrew noted the make and model of your car and committed the license plate to memory. The next day he was back, but he didn't go in the diner, he didn't want to draw attention to himself just yet. Andrew watched you from his truck the whole day, making note of the time you arrived at work and when you left. He did this for two weeks to get a good sense of your schedule and on the second night he followed you home, at a discreet distance.

You lived in an apartment complex that required a key fob to get in, which Andrew appreciated. Any obstacle he ran into was one that a predator would also run into if they were trying to follow and hurt you. But a determined man could get around any obstacle if they were smart enough and Andrew proved this when he was able to enter your building by following closely behind another resident who was going inside.

You'd entered the lobby moments before Andrew had and he watched from a distance as you walked onto the elevator. He watched the electronic numbers above the elevator go to the sixth floor so he slipped into the stairwell and ran up to the sixth floor to follow you, taking the stairs two at a time. He watched from the tiny window on the stairwell door as you turned right out of the elevator, passing by Andrew, who ducked down to avoid being seen, and opening the apartment door that was two down from the stairwell.

Andrew stepped out into the hallway and took note of what door you'd gone into - 628. He stopped dead in the hallway, the numbers sending a spike of shock through him. If Andrew wasn't already sure that the two of you were meant to be, this confirmed it for him.

Your apartment number was his birthday. June 28th. 628.

At the soonest opportunity, Andrew broke into your apartment.

He knew you were at work and he simply picked the lock on your apartment door to gain entry. He was quick about it, making sure to not be seen by any other residents. The cameras in the hallway didn't bother him, he knew from his canvas of the building that they were fake and just there as a deterrent.

Andrew slipped inside your home and took a deep steadying breath at being in your personal space. Being here in your home, in your private space, felt very sacred. Andrew knew from watching you the past two weeks how important this place was to you. You spent most of your time here, rarely going out except to work or to grab a meal with friends. As far as Andrew had observed, you didn't have a boyfriend, so most of your evenings and weekends were spent in your apartment. Being here in your apartment was new for Andrew, he was going to take his time and be respectful of your space.

Your apartment was like looking into your brain and Andrew was overwhelmed by the information he was learning. It was a small, one bedroom apartment, with a little living room area, kitchen, bathroom, and one bedroom. The place was neat and orderly, not quite up to Andrews standards but you were far from a messy person and you'd done your best to brighten up the place as much as you could.

Posters and framed pictures covered the walls above a small, two seater couch. The books stacked on your coffee table were worn and well loved, with bookmarks sticking out of them and a peppermint scented candle sitting next to them. There was a homemade, crocheted blanket on the couch next to some decorative pillows. Andrew wondered if you'd made the blanket yourself or if it'd been a gift.

Moving to the kitchen, Andrew spotted another peppermint scented candle - must be a scent you liked - and a vase of fake flowers on the counter that separated the living room and the kitchen. Andrew would make sure you had enough money for fresh flowers, he knew they made you smile. He noted the food in your cupboards and fridge, cataloging the snacks you enjoyed most. There were post cards stuck to the fridge door and when Andrew lifted them carefully to read the other side he saw that they were from you. You'd written and sent yourself a post card from each trip you'd taken in the past few years. That told Andrew you were sentimental and you liked to receive things in the mail, considering you could have bought the post cards and just brought them home instead of mailing them.

In the bathroom he found dark coloured towels that matched the bath mat and shower curtain. That told Andrew that you planned ahead and were thoughtful about your decorative choices. He found mild scented shampoos and conditioners in the shower, with various body washes, soaps, and lotions lining the tub. Andrew was suddenly struck with the thought of you standing naked in the shower, lathering your soft skin with the body wash and he felt lightheaded thinking about the bubbles sliding down your body.

Backtracking out of the bathroom and making sure not to leave a trace behind, Andrew had one room left to explore.

Your bedroom.

Andrew pushed the door open carefully with his black gloved hand, a precaution he took to not leave fingerprints. Your room was a little messier than the main area of your apartment, with sweaters hanging off the back of your desk chair and makeup scattered across the desk pushed in the corner. But your bed was made and your other clothes were hung up in the closet. Andrew brushed his hand across the shirts in the closet, the hangers clinking together. There were two pairs of shoes haphazardly thrown into the closet and it took everything in Andrew to not straighten the pairs. He had to leave everything where he found it.

He turned away from the closet and moved to the dresser. Your university degree was framed and displayed neatly above the dresser, surrounded by photos of family and friends. Andrew felt pride bloom in his chest, of course you were a university graduate, you were smart and beautiful. With a smile tugging at his lips Andrew looked over the jewelry covering the top of your dresser, making a note of which type of metal you preferred and what kind of jewelry you had most of. He pulled the drawers open, just planning on glancing through them for anything noteworthy when he came face to face with a drawer full of your panties.

Andrews breath caught in his chest, his mouth going dry as he stared at the wide array of pairs. Like with the bathroom, his imagination assaulted him with images of you putting these panties on - the flesh tone pair, the black lacy pair, the light blue pair with bows - sliding them up your bare legs and pulling them over the curve of your ass to settle the elastic at your hips. Andrews cock throbbed in his pants as all the blood in his body rushed south. Andrew pinched his eyes shut and tried to push the images away so he could stay on task.

Andrew shut the drawer a little harder than necessary, making the dresser shake. He turned around and crossed the room to go to the desk, putting distance between himself and the drawer of temptation on the other side of the room. He looked over the desk, a little frantically since the images of you in just a pair of panties still spun around in his head. He noted that you had an older laptop, something he could replace for you easily. You had a whiteboard calendar with some scheduled tasks and outings above the desk that Andrew took a picture of with his phone, something to analyze later.

Andrews eyes fell to the sweaters on the back of the desk chair and before he knew what he was doing, he picked the top sweater up and pressed it to his nose. Andrew took a long, deep breath in, filling his nostrils with the intoxicating scent of you. He'd seen you in this sweater yesterday, you'd worn it to and from work in lieu of a jacket and you clearly had deemed it still clean enough to stay out of the laundry hamper. But Andrew could pick up a very light tang smell of sweat, just under the floral scent of your deodorant. The strongest smell was one that was entirely you and Andrew could feel himself getting addicted to it. It was fresh and bright, like grass and mint, but heavy, coating every strand of the fabric, making his mouth water and his cock twitch.

Before Andrew could think better of it, he turned around to look at your bed, so perfect and inviting. He knew better than to lie down on it or do anything else that mess up the covers but he couldn't help sinking to his knees and pushing his face into the edge of the mattress, breathing deeply. The sheet smelled like your laundry detergent and that fresh smell that was all you. Andrew groaned into the bed, his voice muffled against the sheets.

His cock was painfully hard in his jeans and Andrew, surrounded by your scent and your things, couldn't stand it any longer. Against his better judgement, Andrew undid his belt and pulled his aching cock from the confines of his pants. He sighed in relief as his hand ran over the shaft, the pad of his thumb grazing the top of his cockhead and smearing his leaking pre-cum back down the shaft.

Armed with his imagination, Andrew began pumping his hand up and down his cock furiously as he thought about you and your perfect smile. He did his best to make no noise but it was hard, you filled his head and all his senses and his moans threatened to come out of his throat as he jerked off at the foot of your bed to the thought of you. He pressed his forehead against the edge of the mattress and panted as he quickly stroked his cock.

It didn't take Andrew long to build to his orgasm, it was always quick when he thought about you. He fisted his cock desperately and lifted the sweater still clutched in his other hand to his face so he could breath in the scent of you as he came over his hand.

And for the first time since he met you three years ago, Andrew finally knew what name to say when he came.

dividers by @ strangergraphics

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“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.