A Simple Moment
Helga's on her way to the Great Hall when she drops her favorite golden cup. In her arms she's holding too much, she knows, but she has a lot of students returned from Christmas break to gift with presents she picked special for each and every one.
"Oh, fiddle!" She tries to shift, using her skirt to hold some of her items as she bends to pick the cup up. She's at the top of the staircase, where the light has a harder time illuminating the space, and so she doesn't see him approach, but does feel the cool skin brush against hers as Salazar bends down as well to retrieve the beloved cup.
She's blushing profusely and they both know it. Helga stands uneasily; she's always been a little clumsy, that's nothing new. It never even bothered her until she met Salazar, who is graceful and elegant and never clumsy like she is. Godric and Rowena aren't clumsy either; she still envies Rowena the grace with which the witch moves, because surely a man like Salazar would prefer a woman like that to a woman like her.
The pale man straightens up, handing her the cup with a deep bow meant to show he meant no harm in touching her. There's a strict policy in the school about unmarried boys and girls touching, one that Salazar is always sure to follow and Godric hasn't quite mastered yet. Rowena, she knows, steals hidden touches when she thinks no one is watching, with the two men and others as well. No one ever steals moments with Helga.
"Thank you Salazar," she finally manages, air beginning to return to her lungs. His smile is genuine, small but there and all hers, and even the lack of light doesn't stop Helga from forever etching it in her memory as he takes a step back.
"I shall see you at dinner," he states before bowing once more, heading down the stairs. Helga can only stand at the stop of the staircase and watch, a little hope growing from such a simple moment. When Salazar pauses, looking back up the stairs at her with his smile still there before continuing, her hope blossoms and Helga drops the cup again.
