A short snippet into the mind of Victoire Weasley. Her thoughts on her love for a certain man... Thank you to DaughterofHermes130 and thank you to misswhiteblack for this wonderful challenge. And of course I will not forget the disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Not one speck. Thanks JKR!
He loved me and thus I was loved. Love: once foreign, now proverbial, once inaccessible, now mine, and all because of him. Some fate had thrown us together and given me a chance to find contentment in my tangled world and maybe in return I would be his saviour as well.
He had been around me since before I could remember. Besides my mother's enveloping aroma of cinnamon and roses, his was my favourite. He was red wine and the ocean. For me it was adventure and the scent of my home, for him it was long drunk nights by the ocean wondering why the world was as it was.
But by the next morning he would be fine; the heaviness would be lifted off his shoulders and the defeated sighs would be missing from his every step. Instead he would waltz towards me, grasp my hand and sweep me effortlessly into his arms as he hummed old show tunes and spun me round and round.
He was my old-fashioned lover boy.
In the summer it was dinner wherever we could find food and then dancing into the morning. When the snow came, usually by late December, it was sleigh rides through London, marvelling at the world of Muggles and the lives they led.
But no matter what the season, his lips were the last thing I tasted and his arms the last I felt. His love would follow me home and stay with me until I fell asleep dreaming of his sweet caress and honest eyes.
Yet still, on the nights we did spend together, curled close in his small run down house, I saw him. On most nights the emptiness of the pillow beside me would creep furtively into my dreams and reaching out for his warm chest and his callused hands I would find nothing but pulled back covers and a door left open ajar.
He didn't know it, but on those nights where his absence left me lying awake, I would find myself at the window, watching my beautiful old-fashioned lover boy drown himself in the red of wine and salt of the sea.
His sorrows were secrets and my knowledge was hidden. I did not ask him why nor did I tell him that I knew. And by the next day my worry was erased and replaced by his tugging smile and wonderful melodies.
Before him, and all his complicated stories, I was alone. I was cold to the world, out shone by a beautiful mother and artistic sister, by an intelligent brother and chivalrous father. But then he noticed me. After years of only tentative conversations across games of Exploding Snaps and unfamiliar glances across the garden, he held my hand and told me he wanted to fall in love with me.
Maybe if I could tell that naïve teenage girl of his tormented soul then she wouldn't have accepted his offer to fall in love. But then if told her of his flaws I would be challenged not to tell of his wonders as well. Of his heart breaking touch, his charming whisper, of his serenading footsteps and his overflow of kindness.
And If I warned my younger self of the man he really was, my warning would only be to never lose him and to always love him.
It would be to always love my old-fashioned lover boy…my Teddy.
Thank you so very much for reading and as always I hope you liked it. This (and maybe it's obvious) was my first time writing Teddy or Victoire so I'm wishing for the best!
Allie...
ps. Review Review Review!