Cecilia
1983 was supposed to be a new year – he had it set in his mind that it would be different than 1982, seeing how the tail end of that year had been far crazier than he ever could have imagined. Ever since he had come back from Sweden, his days went from being mundane and boring to slightly overwhelming; all because of a beautiful girl he had met at a bar one night, who thought he was just another jackass who was trying to get into her pants. Truthfully he had been intrigued by her since the first moment his eyes landed on her, sitting all by herself on a stool, and that interest only intensified when he finally dared to buy her a drink and start a conversation with her.

If Cael had to be honest with himself, he had never imagined being so drawn to someone like her – someone who was so completely opposite, who had such different interests and points of view. In theory, they should have been disastrous together, especially when looking at their previous relationships, but somehow they just…worked. They worked better than he could have hoped.

Only she was engaged, and her family was chock full of elitist purebloods who spat (sometimes literally) at those who with even a drop of muggle blood in their system. If her parents knew, that despite being promised to another man she was living with him, they probably would have died of a heart attack. Cae felt the weight of the decision Cecilia had to make on his own shoulders, fearing that one day she was going to walk in the front door and tell him that she had made up her mind, and that she would be leaving in the morning to stay with her fiancé.

If he told anyone that he was living with an engaged woman, they would have called him crazy – that was why he hadn’t been to see Charlie, Delilah, or any of his friends since she announced her engagement. How was he supposed to explain that he was seeing this amazing, beautiful girl, but they couldn’t meet her because she might be married to some other guy at the end of the month? Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t want to believe it. He needed to have faith that he had done everything to prove that he was the right choice, but in the end, it would all come down to Cecilia.

Squeezing the tennis ball that he had picked up from the ground, he tossed it across his backyard so that Karma could chase after it, pouncing on the little green ball before placing it between her teeth to bring back to her owner, so he could do it again. It was getting cold, but he had been home for a while, waiting for Cecilia to return from wherever she had run off to. He didn’t ask too many questions, since most of the time he was certain he didn’t want to know where she was going, or who she was talking to. He threw the ball again, slipping his hands into his pockets once they were both empty, letting out a breath that he could see in the cold air that surrounded him.

This was always the worst part of his nights – wondering when she was going to come back, if she would at all.