🕯🕯️skara🕯️🕯

Nova's fingers wove through Ominis' hair as she guided him over the threshold. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close as they moved together, determined not to sever the connection of their lips. His fingers brushed against her chin and raked upward to cup her cheek. Nova's breath caught in her throat. She jerked her head back as his fingers came into contact with the thick gash across her cheek, and he ripped his hands from her face as if he’d been scalded.

Her throat constricted as his features twisted into a tense scowl. He extended his hand, his fingers lightly grazing the brass doorknob as he muttered, "Excuse me," and hastily darted through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

His retreating footsteps gave way to her breathless gasps, her thumb traced across the lingering sensation of him on her lip as she descended onto the bench. Her mind wrestled to make sense of the evening, she couldn't discern any time passing between the acromantula attack, Ominis getting cursed, and their kiss. All she was certain of was that the bath called out to her weary limbs with every gentle ripple against the white tiles, so that's where she directed her focus.

Her clothing tumbled to the floor in a delicate puff of dust. She winced as she grappled with her trousers, the fabric heavy with thick blood that concealed the full extent of her injuries.

She eased herself into the water, submerging her entire body beneath a thick veil of frothy bubbles.

A gentle, moonlit glow filtered through the window as she released a ragged breath and floated onto her back. Her gaze followed the intricate botanical patterns adorning the ceiling, pulling her into a state of dissociation.

Her meditation was cut short by a sharp rap at the door. It took her a moment to register Ominis' return, clutching a nurse's satchel likely pilfered from the hospital wing. She might have felt uneasy, had it not been for the thick blanket of bubbles that concealed more of her skin than her clothing had.

"Sorry," he grumbled, his cheeks flushing at his inappropriate intrusion. "I... The nurse was onto me." He turned toward a nearby bench and impatiently sifted through the contents of the satchel.

"You said your cut wasn't deep," he rushed his words, forcing her to concentrate in order to catch them. "This won't fully heal it. You'll scar unless you decide to wise up and go see a nurse."

She shot him an irritated glare as he tossed a vial in her direction, the small container sinking through the bubbles and disappearing somewhere beside her.

"Thanks," she murmured, making no effort to retrieve it.

He pulled some bandages from the satchel and flung them onto the bench before striding briskly toward the door.

"Are we alright?" she called after him, but he kept walking. "Ominis?"

"Yeah fine," he huffed, yanking the door open.

"Then why are you acting weird?"

He paused at the door, his fingers clenching the handle so tightly that they whitened from the pressure. "I'd appreciate it if we could both just pretend none of this ever happened."

She would have challenged him, but dealing with his tantrum exceeded her current mental capacity so she reclined further into the water and continued floating.

"Fine." She spoke with deliberate bluntness, knowing her immediate surrender would ruffle his feathers.

His fingers tapped restlessly on the brass doorknob before he predictably pushed the door shut with a frustrated huff.

"If someone were to have seen us… If my family were to assume I had any association with..." He cut himself off, a look of self-disgust twisting his features as he refrained from saying the word aloud.

It had been less excruciating when she was slammed into the cave floor. "Right, understood."

"You know I don't mean it like that," he snapped angrily, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyes.

"How else am I supposed to take it? If you were associated with a half-blood, correct?"

She strained to discern his form as he faltered by the exit, her vision obscured by the swirling steam and the threat of tears.

"You should go," she urged, splashing water on her face in an attempt to convince herself tears weren't falling.

Despite her plea, he planted himself cross-legged at the bath's edge with an irate thud, his fingers raking down his cheeks, etching angry red marks in their wake. "I didn't mean it that way," he repeated.

He scooped up a handful of bubbles, and they both simmered in the tense silence as he idly bounced the frothy cluster between his palms.

"From my parents' perspective, there hasn't been any formal cancellation of plans," he eventually admitted softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She slumped her head against the side of the bath, too drained to pick up what he was putting down.

"Living with Sebastian serves everyone's interests. My family doesn't have to look at me, and I don't have to endure them... but they still see me as their commodity, and when they have a use for me, they'll want me back."

Her weary eyes raked over him, "Sebastian told me you were emancipated."

"That's what I've told him. It's what I tell everyone.” He balanced the cluster of bubbles in the palm of his hand. With a decisive clap, he sent them scattering into the air. "It's not just my family, I'm under constant watch. I have to second-guess every move I make."

“By Black?”

He nodded wearily, “And Alice.”

The mere mention of his prospective wife kindled a pang of jealousy.

"Have you had any recent encounters with her?" he asked, plunging his hands into the water as he began the task of scrubbing away the dried dirt and blood from under his fingernails.

"No, not since you pushed her down the stairs."

"She believes that was you. You shouldn't have taken the blame," he muttered, his teeth gnawing at the inside of his mouth. "Do you remember one of the first things I told you?"

"That I'm ignorant?" She attempted to maintain her annoyed tone, but a smile crept across her face as she delivered the jab. "Or that I was framing Sebastian?"

He dipped his foot into the water and launched a splash in her direction.

"Ew, don’t pollute my bath with your grotty foot," she retaliated with a well-aimed splash, drenching his dirty hair.

He smirked, pushing his soaked strands out of his eyes. "I told you that Alice's bite is worse than her bark."

"Alice doesn't scare me."

"She terrifies me," he confessed with a heavy sigh before arriving at his point. "I assure you, she's been biding her time, waiting for the opportunity to find something to use against you. If she were to suspect something between you and me, she'd run straight to my parents."

"Alright, so we're just playing by your parents' rules, then?"

"I can't do anything until I'm eighteen, and even then..." He didn't need to finish his sentence; Nova knew all too well the methods his family employed to get their way. "I do have a plan for when I finish school and I'm confident i'll pull it off. However, there's no space in that plan for anyone else."

She struggled to contain her irritation, feeling as though he was rejecting her despite being the one to initiate the kiss. The idea of arguing this point briefly crossed her mind, but she was too drained to summon the will to fight. "Alright," she breathed.

“Would you like me to leave?”

She didn't want him to go, but her pride held her back from asking him to stay. She remained silent, hoping he would get the hint, which he did. He shrugged off his jumper and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, scooping up handfuls of water to rinse the grit from his arms.

He began raking his sodden fingers through his hair, dislodging tufts of thick dirt that had congealed into sludge from her splash.

"With all these bubbles and steam, I can't see a thing," she reassured him, too tired to be coy. "You can get in and wash your hair if you want."

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

"I soaked up around twenty percent, I'm pretty sure that spider gave me a concussion," She took pleasure in his exasperated groan. "Look, do you see your parents in here, or Black, or Alice? I'm sure the gravity of what you've told me will sink in, but I nearly died tonight, there's only so much mental space I can spare for your rotten family." She submerged herself before he had a chance to respond.

The silence beneath the dense veil of bubbles was sheer bliss, her thoughts dissolving into the gentle ripples of the water. She exhaled slowly, allowing herself to sink to the bottom and began the task of untangling the knots from her hair.

When she surfaced with a gasp, Ominis was already on his feet, looking prepared to leave.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, "I'd appreciate it if you kept what I've shared with you to yourself, for both of our sakes."

"What happens in here, stays in here." She reassured him. She closed her eyes to rub away the stubborn dirt from her face, anticipating the sound of the door closing.

However, after a prolonged pause, she instead heard Ominis withdraw his wand and softly utter an incantation, conjuring a swathe of black fabric that wrapped itself tightly around her eyes.

“Really?" Her hand struck the water's surface indignantly. "You could have just asked me not to look."

He remained silent, but she detected the rustle of fabric falling against the tiled floor, followed by the soft splashes from the opposite end of the bath. The gentle ripples of his entry gently lapped against her neck.

"Can I get rid of this now?" She attempted to adjust the fabric covering her face, but her hand involuntarily recoiled before she could remove it. "What in the... Have you brought your wand into the bath?!"

She heard a faint laugh from him, the distance of the sound implying he hadn't ventured past the far end of the bath. Nevertheless, she counted it as a small victory that he had chosen to join her.

"You talk a big game about us not being caught together, but you sure do make a lot of noise," she pronounced, alluding to the sporadic splashes as he washed his hair.

"There won't be anyone wandering around the halls at two o'clock on Christmas morning."

"Oh, shit!" She jumped, clumsily colliding with one of the nearby gold taps, which was closer than she had expected, adding a bruised shoulder to her collection of injuries. "Merry Christmas!"

He scoffed, his response devoid of any pleasantries.

"What have you asked Santa for this year?" She tried to coax a bit of holiday cheer out of him.

"To be drawn into a catacomb and cursed, and you?"

She smirked, nibbling at her lip before responding, "Thanks for taking the curse, by the way. How bad was it?"

"Not as bad as the cruciatus curse but still unpleasant. I haven't truly felt like myself since."

Nova chewed on a smile. "Ah, so that's your excuse," she teased, catching onto his attempt to justify his actions.

A heavy silence settled in the room, and she leaned back against the tiles, feeling a wave of concern that her joke might have upset him.

"What happened with the acromantula?” His question took her by surprise. “You had the brilliant idea to set its home on fire, then what happened?"

Struggling to piece together the events, she began to wonder if she might genuinely have a mild concussion. "I can't really remember. I know it hit me before I even realised what it was. It smashed me into the ground, and then Sebastian slammed it into the wall..."

"So, just picture me relying on my hearing. I hear both of you shouting, I hear two deafening crunches and then silence…"

She listened to her ragged breath for a few moments before asking, "You thought it killed us?"

"For a moment. Yes, I did," he stated matter-of-factly.

"So, is that why you kissed me, because you were still reeling from my 'death'?" Her cheeks filled with a stifled laugh at his excuse. "When's Sebastian getting his?"

Her brain responded too slowly to the splash, and the small wave hit her right in the face, causing a sharp sting as it came into contact with her wound.

“Ow! Don’t do that I’m broken.”

"Use the dittany, you idiot," he scolded, though there was an indication of amusement in his voice.

Nova's toes delicately danced across the bottom of the bath until they located the vial. Fumbling with the latch, she felt the warm oil spill across her open hand. She applied it to the deep wound on her cheek, prying her fingers under the blindfold to massage it in. The sharp pain immediately subsided into a dull throb.

"Is there any more dittany in that bag? I spilt it all, but I need some for my legs."

"It got your legs," he reiterated, clearly unimpressed. "Gave you a concussion, and you still don't want to see the nurse?" She could hear him grabbing the satchel from the side of the bath and started to rummage through it.

"Incoming," he cautioned, and a gentle splash followed somewhere nearby.

"Could you stop throwing them at me? I can't see shit." She rummaged around, searching for a gap in the frothy bubbles.

“Welcome to the club.”

"I don't have seventeen years of echolocation experience. Where did it go?"

His laughter was abruptly silenced as he submerged beneath the water. She heard the sound of him breaching the surface, his hand swiping away the water from his face.

“Here.”

Her fingers fumbled against his outstretched hand and a rush of warmth jolted through her at the brief connection.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her fingers idly rolling the vial without making any immediate move to apply it. “Please don’t tell the matron I spilt a whole vial of her dittany,” she joked weakly, attempting to dispel the uncomfortable silence. “That woman frightens me.”

“What happens in here, stays in here, doesn’t it?” He repeated her words back to her.

He had made his boundaries clear, but that had felt far too much like an invitation.

She gingerly extended her hand, only to have it meet his chest with an almost immediate collision. He remained close, showing no sign of pulling away from her touch, encouraging her hands to find a more secure perch on his shoulders.

He remained motionless and just as she contemplated pulling back, she felt the delicate trace of his fingers along her cheekbone, gently sweeping aside the damp locks that clung to her skin. He moved forward, gradually pushing her against the tiles until their foreheads met with a gentle clash.

His sigh of surrender prickled in her throat as she pushed her lips against his. He matched her passion with a perfect pace, his tongue tracing across her lower lip leaving her light-headed. He threaded his fingers into the thick strands at the nape of her neck, securing them in a possessive grip. With a gentle tug, he coaxed a moan from her, and she could feel his smile against her lips.

He pushed up the fabric of the blindfold, sliding it over her head before tossing it aside. Though he was mostly submerged, Nova seized the stolen moment to let her eyes wander over his exposed skin. Beauty marks scattered across his moonlit shoulders and his tousled blonde hair fell untamed over his pale eyes.

She barely managed to release an admiring gasp before his lips were against her throat, nipping his way down her collarbone. Her curious hands trailed across his chest, and she could feel his primal groan against her skin as he tightened a grip on her waist. Her thighs squeezed together when something tickled behind her navel.

"Enough," he rasped breathlessly against her skin, pressing a final, forceful kiss against her pulse before ripping away and lifting himself onto the edge of the bath.

Her mind was spinning too wildly to track his movements with her eyes, a sinking stone of frustration plunging deep into the pit of her stomach.

She fixated on the scattered cluster of bubbles where he had just withdrawn, her breaths coming in desperate pants.

“Here.”

She finally looked up upon hearing his voice.

He had managed to pry open the prefects' lockers and helped himself to a black cloak, extending one toward her. He waited patiently as she struggled to extract herself from the bath, cocooning her dripping body in the robe.

With a flick of his wand, he vanished their soiled clothes and drained the bath, erasing all traces of their presence.

She clung to the hope that he would linger for one more kiss before crossing the threshold, but he seemed determined to return to his dorm as swiftly as possible.

They arrived together by the Slytherin Floo flames, stepping into the common room to find it entirely vacant. It seemed that Sebastian was still immersed in his studies in the Undercroft.

“Would you like me to walk you to your dorm?” Ominis offered.

"Uhm, I'll probably just..." Nova gestured toward the windows where her pillow nest still lay untouched from her strop a few days prior, before remembering he couldn't see her indication. "Oh, um. I'm alright, thank you."

Ominis nodded, "Well... Merry Christmas. Goodnight, Nova." With that, he practically ran to his dorm, leaving her in the silent darkness.