WHO: Evan Rosier & Cecilia Hooke
WHAT: :] and then >[ and then D:
WHEN: The Malfoy wedding and then a hotel room
WHEN: November '78
From the moment she walked into the reception hall, Cecilia had been on the most attentive lookout for Evan. She had seen him at the wedding, but being family had placed him rows in front of her and it just hadn't been possible for them to speak. Afterwards, in the rush of people leaving to go to the reception, she had lost sight of him somewhere in the crowd--for a moment, she had thought he was trying to avoid her, but brushed off that notion quickly. He did look somewhat unwell during the ceremony, so maybe he was just trying to leave quickly...
It did worry her, though, that he had seemed unwell. It wasn't as if he were bleeding or acting deathly ill or whatnot, just... he didn't look quite right, and in a way like he didn't want to be there at all.
Finally, after several minutes of looking, she spotted Evan by the bar. As quickly as decorum would allow, Cecilia picked up her dress and walked over to him. With a sense of relief, she slipped up next to him before he could evade her again and kissed his cheek soundly. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to," she told him with a small smile. From up close he looked even more as if he wished not to be there, but she shook it off for the time being.
He hadn’t exactly been avoiding Cecilia, but he really wasn’t making as much of an effort to see her as he normally would under different circumstances. It was the first time he had left his apartment in 2 weeks, and even though he had been walking around his apartment, it was still a little difficult to keep himself steady while he was standing, which would explain why he had been carrying around a long and slender cane all day.
He had healed, for the most part, but that didn’t mean there weren’t a few lingering bruises and scrapes that remained. No one could see them, because they were covered by his clothes, and even the cuts that were on his neck and face were covered by a few simple charms….not that most of the people at the reception didn’t already know about what happened to him. This was Lucius Malfoy’s, wedding after all. That meant that the guest list was pretty familiar to him, aside from his own family.
Making his way from one guest to the next, he was finally able to sit down and have a minute to himself at the bar. Ordering his usual poison, he took a large sip and placed it back down on the counter, spinning it with his fingers as he took a deep breath that was exhaled as a heavy sigh. The music playing behind him was shut out as he stared down at the clear liquid, but was dragged out of his reverie when he felt someone kiss him on the cheek.
Blinking, he turned and acknowledged Cecilia with a smirk. “I’ve been around.” He straightened himself out. “Didn’t mean to be elusive.” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true, but as mentioned before, he wasn’t avoiding her. He only had so many opportunities to see her while she was at school, and he wanted to make the most of them, but the Hogsmeade weekends seemed to fall when he was either injured, or preoccupied.
The Slytherin looked satisfied with his answer and his change of expression. Of course she had been imagining all of that rubbish she'd been thinking before about his not being well; he was absolutely well, and she saw no new cuts or bruises, which was an even better sign. She had obviously been worried about nothing at all and now they were together for the first time in a month and she could be just plain happy about it. It was a wonderful feeling she got, being around him, and Cecilia knew that it was only intensified by the fact that being around him was something that didn't happen very often.
"That's alright," she said. Forgiveness seemed to come easier the more carefree she was feeling. "I've been trying to be a bit elusive myself to keep away from my parents. I swear if Mother fusses over my hair one more time... you'd think I was either a baby or the bride the way she does it. And Father likes to try and keep a close eye on me at parties to feel better about how I'm conducting myself around his peers. You'd never know I was a legal witch with parents like mine."
“I’m sure they’re just…concerned, I suppose.” The pause was taken so he could think of an appropriate word to describe why her parents were so neurotic. “Your hair looks fine, by the way.” With that, he took another sip of his drink, and looked around to see who was standing nearby. Her parents were not too far off, and he could see her Dad glancing over to check up on his daughter every now and then. “Do they know?” He asked randomly, before looking back to her.
“About us, I mean. Because I’m dying to kiss you right now and I’m not quite sure how they’ll react if they’re uninformed of our relationship.” He raised a brow and looked over to her parents, who both looked like they were struggling just to not look over and see what Cecilia was up to. Even at the Ministry Gala she had been surrounded by her father and his colleagues.
Cecilia smirked and made a quick glance in the direction Evan had looked. Ah yes, there were Mortimor and Eliza Hooke, doing a very horrible job of trying to look discreet in keeping their eyes on her. She turned back to her boyfriend, her mischievous look growing, if possible, even more so than before.
"Of course they do," she said lightly, lowering her voice a bit. Oh, they had found out soon after the truth had come out to Kalista (and thus, the general public) and had been doing nothing but bursting with joy ever since. Evan Rosier was, as every pureblood parent knew, a fantastic catch. "What other reason do you think my mother has for making sure my hair is perfect? She doesn't want me to fuck this up in the very least."
“Is that right?” He asked with a quirked brow, leaning in closer to her. “You should tell your mother that your hair, although it does look lovely, is the least of my concerns… you have many interesting features to keep me occupied.” With that, he closed in the space between them and kissed her. It felt good, to be able to kiss her again, after not being able to for so long. He really needed something good, after the hell he had been through a few weeks ago. Since they were in a public place, and she had her parents watching them both like hawks, the kiss was short and sweet, but it still expressed how glad he was to see her.
Cecilia melted a little at the kiss, breathing in his scent for the first time in what seemed like forever. Oh, this school situation was so horrible, if only she could just leave and forget about it--of course, the only way that she could do that was by getting a husband, and if she had a husband there would be no Evan, and she most certainly was not going to go about marrying him (at least not right now, she thought) and--she was stuck and it was horrible. What a life, to suffer like this.
He pulled away much sooner than she would have liked, but at a prudent time given their surroundings. Anything more would have been a strict breach of propriety, especially with her parents watching. "She'll be crushed to know that the rest of those features she can do nothing at all about," she said with a smile that was ironically innocent.
While she was thinking about how horrible it was being at Hogwarts, Evan couldn’t help but be relieved that she was. Not because he didn’t want to see her obviously, but because if she had been home for everything that had been going on, it would be so much harder to keep from her the things he didn’t want her to know. There were definitely things she would notice, like the cane, and he would have to come up with something to explain that, but other than that, he hoped that she wouldn’t be able to tell that he was as injured as he really was. He was sure that by next month he would be hating the situation they were in as well, but for right now he tried not to think about it at all. He just wanted to spend time with her while he could.
“Wouldn’t want her to change a thing, love.” He said as he leaned on the bar, careful not to wince as he lifted his arm and grabbed his glass. He didn’t sip it yet, but he just needed to hold something to keep his fingers from fidgeting. It was horrible, acting as though nothing was wrong, but he could tell that he had been getting looks from certain people. Death Eaters, to be specific, who were still not too pleased about what he had done. Or, actually, what he hadn’t done. For a moment, he got distracted looking out into the crowd, but eventually he snapped back to reality and took another sip of the vodka he had taken into his hand a moment ago.
He was a very good actor, but it was a good thing that he was. The last thing Narcissa needed was to have one of her friends screeching at her boyfriend about how stupid he was because he was obviously hurt. Maybe it was a good thing that Cecilia was always at Hogwarts, because she probably would have been having a heart attack a second, did she know about what had happened to him. She had told him to be careful.
"I hope you haven't been drinking too much," she said, nodding to the glass. "I hear that drunks don't make very good dancers."
He looked confused for a moment. He wasn’t completely there, with all the potions he had been taking, and the alcohol wasn’t helping much. He wasn’t drunk, or disoriented in any way, but he was definitely in a daze at the moment. “I’m fine.” Oh, that line was used way too often by Evan Rosier. Even when he was near death, he was always ‘fine’. If he used any other word to describe himself, it was a big deal. “But, if that was your attempt at subtly hinting that you want to dance, you’re not very good at being astute. Either way, I can assure you that I haven’t been drinking too much.”
Not nearly as much I want to be drinking…
"Who said that I was trying to be subtle with wanting to dance?" she asked, arching a brow. "In fact, I don't even wish to at the moment. I was just making sure that you would suffice as a dance partner later in the evening when I do wish t--Are you sure you're all right?"
She turned full to face him, having caught the confused look he gave her. It was only for a split second, but it had been there, and it had been that look that made her wonder about him earlier. Cecilia displayed an expression of suspicion and no-nonsense and had she not been sitting down, her hands would have been planted firmly on her hips. "If you're telling me that you're fine and you're not, I'm going to be pissed, Evan."
He couldn’t help but sigh as she cut herself off to ask him if he was really as okay as he wanted her to believe he was. The repeated question made him finish off whatever was in his drink before he pushed the empty glass towards the tender who had come round, nodding his head to tell him to fill it up again. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
He was fine, by his standards. He wasn’t dead, so why should he tell her he wasn’t alright? He was in pain, yeah, but that was to be expected, but there was no point in telling her that when there was nothing she could do about it that he wasn’t already doing. Either way, she was going to be pissed at him. Might as well stick with his original story, just incase she didn’t find out. When his new drink came around, he took another sip. He wasn’t technically supposed to be drinking until at least next week, when he wasn’t taking everything at once, but…whatever. He needed the alcohol. He had already been drinking all week at home to cut the pain some more, so he really doubted that he’d be affected by a glass or two. But, he would be careful. This was his cousin’s wedding, and that only happened once.
"Then I suppose you won't mind explaining the cane, will you?" she asked skeptically, her eyes shooting down in between them at the walking instrument. She had noticed it upon coming to sit down with him, but had just thought that it belonged to the rather old wizard that had been sitting next to Evan at the time. But he had left without it and--well, it could have been left there, she didn't know that it was Evan's, but what harm did it do to act like it were for the sake of finding out if it was? "I don't recall ever hearing that people that are 'fine' walk around using canes, but maybe that's just me."
She was infinitely glad that her back was to her parents at the moment, because if they saw the look she was giving him at that moment, they might have been alarmed. If they got alarmed, they might poke their noses in, and that was something she didn't want.
He glanced down as she did, looking at the object she was talking about. His mind worked as she continued to speak, trying to think of something to say. Once she was done, he glanced back to her and spoke with a raised brow. "Maybe it is just you, because as I've told you before, I'm alright. I'm good, grand, splendid, whatever bloody word you want to use."
His words were spoken with a bit of a bite, but once he was done, he paused and sighed, cooling himself off. "I'm fine..." he muttered, staring down at his glass. He did keep in mind that her parents were nearby. That actually worked to his advantage right now. "I hurt myself a while back, haven't been able to walk properly since. I can get from one place to another just fine, but I can't stand still for a long period of time without any support, or else my right leg gives out. That's why I have the cane." There, she got some sort of explination. It wasn't s complete lie, but...it at least explained the cane.
Cecilia frowned, but it was a different kind of frown this time. It was sympathetic and worried, not impatient and vexed like it had been--see, she had known something was wrong and bloody hell, all he had to do was admit it. She'd seen him with much, much worse than a bad leg, it wasn't like she was delicate or something or--she had just wanted to hear the truth.
"Thank you," she said, her voice quieter. She tried to mask her worry to the best of her ability, but a hint of it seeped through--she wasn't half as good an actor as he was. "That's all I wanted to know."
The bartender offered her a glass of champagne and she took it with a half-smile, drinking down the first quarter of the glass at once. Well, they obviously weren't going to dance, and as long as he got to drink, she didn't see why she shouldn't get to.
Evan normally didn’t feel guilty about a lot, but the fact that she sounded so worried made him feel like he should tell her the truth…but he knew that he couldn’t. Damn her. He nodded his head. “Yeah…” that was really all he could say as he glanced over and took in her expression. Fuck, she had to stop. He’d rather she be mad at him than look at him like that. Like he was a wounded dog or something.
They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping at their drinks, until he placed his empty glass down. “Do you want to get out of here? Go somewhere?” He wasn’t trying to imply anything, but he really did want to get out of there, and he hadn’t seen her in a long time, and…he just really wanted to get out of there. He had wanted to leave right after the ceremony, but knew that he had to make his rounds and say hello to family, and a few friends, if you could even call them that.
Taking a long drink to empty the glass of alcohol, she seemed to think about his question for a second. Honestly, she didn't figure that he was suggesting anything, given the condition he was in--and it made sense that he would want to leave, now that she knew she had been right about his not really wanting to be there in the first place.
She set the glass down and pushed it forward on the bar, pursing her lips for a moment before nodding once. "Yeah," she answered. "Somewhere sounds good."
Well, she hadn't really been enjoying the wedding all that much anyway, and it was just going to be worse knowing that he wasn't enjoying it. They could probably both make much better use of their night together (their last for a while) out of the sight of others and outside the confines of this reception hall.
He nodded, and reached down to grab his cane with his right hand, holding out his left for her to take. It was refreshing, being able to do that without worrying about what his sister, or any one else would say. He concentrated hard on not limping as he walked, going around to say goodbye to what seemed like 1 million guests, including her parents, ending with Narcissa and Lucius. He held out a hand for the male and congratulated him and welcomed him to the family one more time before giving him a firm shake. He then turned to Narcissa, who practically leapt up to give him a large hug. His eyes closed as she hit against a few bruises, but he pushed his discomfort aside and smirked. “You look beautiful, Cissa…congratulations.” He parted from her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, letting Cecilia say goodbye as well. After that, they were on that way. His smirk faded as he walked, and he seemed to grew more solemn the further away from the party they got.
The newlyweds had set up reservations at a hotel nearby, for people who would be far too drunk to apparate back home by themselves, so he figured that since his apartment hadn’t been entirely cleaned up since Wilkes and Mulciber had ‘visited’, he’d take advantage of the room he had set up for himself. He had made sure it was on the first floor, so that he didn’t have to climb any stairs. Taking out the key, he placed it into the lock when they arrived, turning it at the same time as his other hand turned the doorknob, grabbing his cane once it was unlocked and the door was open. He allowed her to step inside, reaching into his pocket for his wand, and with a flick the entire room was lit. Closing the door, he stepped inside and took a seat on the edge of the bed, just to get off of his feet.
Cecilia took the time to admire the room as she stepped inside. Lucius and Narcissa (the Malfoys, that was; how strange to think) had really gone all out for the comfort of their guests, but then again, when such prominent families were marrying together, one could expect nothing less. It wasn't only the hotel that they'd gone all out on, but the ceremony itself too--and the reception, at least what she'd seen of it. The Hookes were wealthy, but she could hardly imagine that her parents would ever be able to put on that kind of wedding for her.
With a flick of her own wand, she lit a fire in the fireplace and slipped off her heels with a sigh. "Bloody shoes," she muttered. Only a few hours and she was already tired of wearing them, but her mother had insisted upon new shoes being worn. It was a good thing she hadn't had to wear them too long, or she'd have probably been sore for days.
Speaking of people who were sore, Cecilia kicked the offending footwear aside and went down to sit beside her boyfriend on the bed. She used an arm to support her as she leaned over and kissed his neck softly, nuzzling her head against his cheek. "Glad to be out of there."
To be honest, he wasn't taking in the details of the room as much as she was. He was very close to meditating at the moment, staring down at the floor as he tried to keep himself steady, and block out whatever pain he was currently feeling. Not that he had to, he could always just blame it on his leg for the time being, but he thought it made him look weak if she knew he was hurting.
His eyes closed as she kissed his neck. "Hm. So am I." He turned his head to look at her, his hand moving to take hers, sliding long slender digits between his own. "I was starting to wonder when we'd get the chance to be alone together...it seems like an eternity." His forehead pressed against her own, his other hand going to trace along her jawline, feeling the familiar curves of her face against his fingertips.
"It's been more than an eternity," she mumbled quietly, her eyes closing as she relished in the feel of his touch. Far more than an eternity, it felt like a million eternities since she'd had him to herself like this. It was bloody unfair... she really wished she had spent less of the summer hating him, things would have been so much easier. So much more fun.
Pushing forward slightly, she caught his lips. Once, then twice, then again, each one containing a little more heat, a little more of her longing for him. Still, they were soft, gentle. He had told her the truth about the leg, but she suspected more--wasn't going to ask him about it, but he had left out how he came about that bad leg. Knowing what she did... well, she wasn't quite confident that he was totally up to this, even if she could suspect him to act like he was.
He didn’t like the fact that she kept on pulling away from the kisses, but they did serve their purpose, which was to make him want her more each time. She tasted sweet, as always, like champagne and whatever lip gloss she had decided to wear that particular day. He pulled her closer to him with his other arm, trying not to strain his shoulders as he did so. His right shoulder had already been fucked up ever since his duel with Lily Potter, but after his punishment, both of them had gotten much worse. He was lucky that he was using the better of the two, his left, to pull her to him, as his right hand remained laced with her own.
He wanted to do so much more than kiss her at the moment, and it wasn’t until her hand moved to his side that he got tense and realized that this wasn’t the best idea in the world. Fuck. He tried to play it off like nothing had happened, but couldn’t help but squeeze on her hand a little tighter as she unknowingly moved along a bruised scar that was still healing beneath his shirt.
Cecilia stopped at once when she felt him tense up, when she felt that extra pressure on her hand. To be truthful, she had been trying to make herself tonight a little more attuned to Evan than normal, knowing that he was hurt--she hadn't known that he was further wounded or anything, but she had been suspicious and now she knew it, that could be the only reason he'd have reacted like that, he--stupid, stupid fucking man and his... pride or whatever the fuck it was, she just wanted to scream, and--
In one single movement, the Slytherin opened her eyes and untangled her their fingers, grabbing onto the bottom of his shirt with one hand. With a sharp pull, she dislodged the garment from the waistband of his pants, pulling it up enough to reveal exactly what she had expected--several scars, several very bad, fresh-looking scars.
"You are so lucky you're injured, because I'd fucking smack you if you weren't," she hissed at him, her anger mixed with fretting in what made a very confusing tone of voice.
Fuck. That was really the only thought running through his mind as he felt her hands go to the bottom of his shirt. He reached and grabbed her wrist with one of his own hands, but it was no use, she had already seen what he had been trying to cover up. He winced slightly as the fabric rubbed against his wounds, his other hand pulling it back down to cover the scars. “It’s nothing.” Right, like that was going to make her any less pissed off at him for pretending like there was nothing wrong. He had hoped that this part would come later, when he had a better idea of what he would say to explain everything. “I told you, I got hurt.”
"Oh, shut up!" she exclaimed, happy for the fact that the walls were charmed soundproof. For some reason, Cecilia wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep her voice down to a reasonable level. "This isn't nothing, this isn't just hurt, this is--Evan! For Merlin's sake, this is--you--!"
It seemed as it she forgot how to speak with the way she left off, pushing off the bed and going to pace over in front of the fire. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see him both because she was unbelievably irritated with him, and because she didn't want to imagine how much further he'd been 'hurt'--even if the images were running themselves through her head already.
Her words made him raise a brow, watching her get up from the bed in a huff, actually yelling at him. Part of him was wondering if he really should have just told her the extent of his injuries before, but would that have really made that much of a difference? Would she have still reacted like she was. He said nothing as she turned her back to him infront of the fire place. He had a feeling that trying to defend himself would be pointless, so he just let her cool off for a moment before he did speak. "This isn't nothing. You're right. But does it really make a fucking difference if you knew? Would it give you that much more closer, to actually know what happened to me? To know why I'm like this?"
"What would make me feel better is you not feeling like you have to hide it from me!" she retorted, turning back towards him against her will and before she knew she'd done it. She had been about to say something more, but at the sight of him her words seemed to catch in her throat and her mouth sat open for a minute as she futilely tried to remember her words. Finally, her face decided to settle itself into a frown, and she looked away again, sharply. "Just--" Cecilia crossed her arms over her chest to compensate for the way that her voice had gone a great deal softer. "--I just want you to be bloody honest about it."
He clenched his jaw and held back his own words until she was completely finished saying what she wanted to say. He couldn’t help but feel angry when she told him what she wanted, because he knew that’s what she would want, and it was the one thing he couldn’t give her. “You want honesty…” he shook his head and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to regain his composure, so he didn’t go off at her. He wasn’t even angry at her, he was just...he couldn’t describe it. “You think I choose to just keep things like this from you? You think I have a choice? You know what I am. You found out, and you knowing that much information is more than you were ever supposed to know, and there are things I’m not able to discuss. I can’t tell you what happened to me, I just… I can’t. This isn’t about you and me, this is about us, and them. I keep secrets because it’s what I have to do. I would tell you everything if I could, but I can’t. You might not understand it, but that’s just the way things are. I could have told you that I was hurt, but you would have wanted to know why, so I figured it’d be best for you to just not find out so you wouldn’t ask questions I knew I wouldn’t be able to answer.”
She gulped quietly as he spoke, and was glad that she wasn't looking at him for the way that she could feel the strong burn in her eyes that were tears threatening to spill over--fuck, fuck, she hated crying. She had to keep it under control, no matter how hard it was with him telling her all this and that about not being able to be honest with her.
Cecilia sighed and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, blinking furiously and tapping her foot as if the small preoccupation would keep her mind off crying, and keep her tears in. "I--I don't want to know why, if you can't tell me, I--I swear I won't ask why if you just tell me how badly you're hurt. Just give me that much, let me know if I can expect you to be in pain or--or bleeding or--fuck, anything, I just--let me know what's wrong with you, I--God, I want to help, I want to know you trust me enough that you don't have to go around covering up scars and--" She shook her head and turned her eyes to the floor, squeezing them shut--damnit all. "I care about you, alright? Don't hide it because you're afraid of me asking, fuck--I won't ask, alright?"
He had to stare at the ground when he saw that she was about to cry. If it was someone he actually cared about, he hated to see them cry, and it was the worst feeling in the world. Even though he knew that he had to tell her all of that, her reaction to it wasn’t anything that was easy for him. She had to understand. It was just…she had to, or this would never work.
He went over the idea again and again in his head, debating with himself about whether he should really give her what he wanted, and whether or not she would be able to handle the extent of his injuries. “Fine…alright…if that’s what you want.” he said quietly, after what seemed like a year of silence. His eyes rose up to meet hers and he held out his hand for her to take, so that she would sit down on the bed beside him. He couldn’t describe everything. There was far too much to say. Far too many details for him to mention.
“The only way I can let you know…is to show you…”
It surprised Cecilia that he agreed, especially after such a long time thinking about it, but when Evan reached his hand out to her, it was enough to finally let her blink back the wetness in her eyes and calm down a bit. She just... calm, she needed to be calm, because she was sure that what he was going to show her was going to make her want to cry all over again, and it was much easier to avoid that when she wasn't already doing so. She needed to show him that she could take it, and that he could trust her not to freak out--despite that just the thought of what she might see was freaking her out already.
No. No freak outs. She could get over this, she had asked for this.
"Okay," she said finally, reaching out for his hand and allowing him to draw her over to the bed. Cecilia resumed the position she had abandoned before, sitting next to him on the soft comforter.
He remained sitting beside her for a few more moments. He looked over to her, still worried about what her reaction would be. There wasn’t any point to asking whether she was ready or not, because he knew what her answer would be. He sighed, gave her hand a squeeze and then rose to his feet. Slipping his hand into his coat pocket, he grabbed his wand. His back was to her, and he paused before he uttered the simple incantation to remove the charms that were covering the bruises and cuts on his face and neck. Slowly, he turned around to let her take in just that. It wasn’t bad, but there were definetly bruises and cuts that hadn’t been there a moment before. “You sure you still want to know…?”
Even as she had a hand to her mouth in stifling a soft gasp, Cecilia was nodding an affirmative to see the rest. So he had charmed all that stuff, whatever she would have been able to see otherwise he'd charmed so that they would be invisible... God, how long ago had he gotten hurt? He had seemed fine in his letter on his--holy shit, was that why he had been distant? Had this happened before then, and he had been so busy being hurt and dealing with it that he hadn't been able to write her? Oh, oh--no. No freaking out, she had to remind herself again. No freaking out. "Yeah. I do."
Her reaction to the minor injuries that he had been hiding was not a good sign at all. But, he couldn’t back out now. He cleared his throat and removed his coat jacket, and loosened his tie, tossing it down where he was sitting just a moment ago beside her. He rolled back his shoulders, hearing a horrible crack, his eyes shutting as his neck rolled from side to side. Each movement caused him pain, but he just needed to get the knots out of his muscles. He rose a hand to begin unbuttoning the white shirt that was the last thing covering what he had been hiding for long. His thin digits stopped at the bottom, and he stared down at the ground for a moment taking a deep breath that was exhaled as a sigh as he began to remove his shirt. It was rather hard to find an area of his torso that wasn’t bruised, or scarred. True, some of them had healed, but you could still tell where they were. The side of his stomach had quite a few stab wounds, and it looked like someone had cut him open at his ribs. He slid the fabric off his arms, exposing his damaged shoulders. One was obviously worse than the other, being the one that had already been fucked up before. He held his shirt in his hand, and took in her expression…he was beginning to wish he had just not shown her at all.
If her expression was horrified, she hadn't meant for it to be. But she had expected it to be, and that's why she had to keep her mouth clamped tightly shut so that she didn't say anything to make him regret his decision to show her. Cecilia bit down on her tongue and forced herself to keep quiet, through his whole process of slipping off his shirt, the urge becoming harder and harder to ignore with each inch and new wound that was revealed. Merlin, she--she couldn't even imagine what had happened to him to get him this bad--it was--it was worse than he had been hurt before and she hadn't thought that was possible until now and oh--oh God, he was going to just--what if the next time he--
Her thoughts broke off long before she realized it, but that was because her body was busy taking control of itself, throwing her arms around him and pressing her face into his shoulder as her plan to not get emotional failed spectacularly. Fresh tears burst forth and they weren't even for what he looked like now, but the images that were popping into her head that were far, far worse than this, that she hoped she'd never see in life. "D--Oh God, d--don't--don't ever--d--die--"
He really hadn’t expected her to do what she had done. He wasn’t used to getting this sort of reaction from people, because no one ever knew when he was hurt. There had never been anyone who cared that much, except for Kalista, but she was obligated to. The feeling of her arms around him made his eyes close tightly, pain rushing through his body as she pressed herself against him, but he got past it and his arms moved around her, bringing her closer to him, despite the discomfort it was bringing him. Oh, she couldn’t cry…she couldn’t fucking cry, because it was killing him, and…God damn it. “Cecilia…” That was all he could say as he held her, his fingers playing with her soft hair as he felt her cry against his shoulder. He swallowed roughly, his throat getting tighter, affected by her tears more than he thought he would be.
Damnit, damnit, she hadn't come home to see him just so that she could stand here crying, but she couldn't help it, she couldn't help that she cared so bloody much and why she didn't know, why she cared so much about a man that she only saw sparsely at best, but fuck it, she really did and it hurt to see him like this, to know that he couldn't do anything to stop being fucking just--torn to pieces because of what he stood for, and to think that there might be one day when he wouldn't come back from it, she just--she lost it. She lost it and there was nothing she could do. She cared too goddamn much.
"I'm s--sorry," she sobbed. "I--I should--I shouldn't h--have--I'm sorry."
He shook his head as she spoke, moving his hand so that he could lift up her chin to look at him. “No. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He placed his other hand on the other side of her face and kissed her forehead, and then moved his hands to her neck, kissing her cheek, tasting her tears before he pulled her close, taking in the sweet scent of her hair as she continued to cry. He could feel her shaking as his arms wrapped around her, his fingers trailing up and down her back to try and comfort her. “You’re killing me right now, Cecilia…” He said with a sigh, his voice not holding as much of it’s dry sarcasm as it usually did. It was more…pained, if anything, and it wasn’t because of any of his wounds. He wasn’t used to feeling like this about anyone, or having anying cry because of him. Or, well, not because of the reasons she was crying right now.
She gulped and tried to stem the flow of tears, for him at least--the tone of his voice hit hard, and it hit straight in her heart because what he conveyed through that was exactly what she was feeling towards him. It was a hurt to see the other hurt, and fuck, she didn't want him feeling like she did--it wasn't something she wanted him to have to share, atop of physical pain, and she felt immediately guilty for making him feel that way. She--she had to stop, to quiet down and get a hold of herself, she had to... "Sorry, s--sorry," she apologized before remembering that he had already admonished her for that. "I mean--I--I'm trying--"
And she was. Cecilia let go of him with one hand to brush at her eyes furiously and taking deep breaths, trying to make the tears go away. She did her best to push the bad thoughts and images out of her mind, as hard as it was to do.
“I know…” He let her get most of the moisture away from her cheeks and eyes, and then took her hand and turned around so that he was on the bed, pulling her so that she was standing between his legs. He probably would have fallen over a long time ago had she not been there to support him. Once she was close enough, his arm went to her waist, the other raising so that he could push back her hair, his thumb moving along her cheek, getting a few of the lingering tears away. “The last thing I wanted was to make you cry.”
"You didn't make me cry," she insisted, although her voice felt rough coming out. Cecilia thought that she probably must look rather like crap, with the red-rimmed eyes and all that, but he didn't seem to care. Nor did this seem like the situation to worry about it--one of the few times, in fact, that one would witness her not minding what a mess she must have looked like. "I just--it's not the cuts and bruises and--it's--for Merlin's sake, this is the second time I've seen you like this, I--when's going to be too much? I--" She cut off, shaking her head and bringing up a hand to run back through her hair as she took a deep breath to keep herself composed again. "--Never mind. I know you can't talk about it. I just--don't let me watch you get killed out there, okay?"
He was glad that she stopped talking when she did, because he was having a hard time keeping eye contact. His multi-hued orbs had to glance away from her momentarily when she cut herself off, looking back to her again as soon as he heard her speak once more. “I…” he started, biting on his lower lip as he stared into her eyes, shaking his head. “I won’t.” The fact that he couldn’t tell her that he wasn’t going to die out there might have been worrisome to her, but he couldn’t make her promises he couldn’t keep. “But I don’t want you thinking like that, alright?” He moved her closer, both of his arms around her waist. “These will heal…” he shifted and nuzzled his nose against her own. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as you think…”
Okay, so he was lying…
Cecilia exhaled through her nose, a sigh that said that she didn't believe him but was resigned to go along with it anyway. He'd been honest enough for tonight, more than she deserved and... Right. He wasn't going to die today, so why couldn't she be happy that he was alive right now? She was happy that he was alive now, she was happy that he was here to hold her like he was because it was the best feeling in the world anymore. He made her feel amazing, and crying more wasn't going to help her relish in that--no, the only way to do that was to put her arms around him in return and kiss him.
She did, pushing in closer towards him but now more conscious of what she was doing, so as to hurt him the least. There was no way wounds like that could 'not hurt as bad'--bloody man.
He was really lucky she liked him so much.
