The chime of clock from living room informed me that it was 3 am in the morning, which made it whole 2 hours since I have been sitting here, trying to write a letter to my mother. The blank parchment lying in front of me, and many others rolled up at my feet, though, told me that it was a lost cause. No matter how much I tried, I won't be able to concentrate on it when the whole of focus was trained on catching any noise from the other side of my bedroom wall. But so far, everything at there was as quiet as the night outside my window, not even a breath of wind rustling the trees. Giving up on the letter, I got up from my desk, deciding to lie down and try to fall asleep. As I turned towards my bed, however, I accidentally brushed the desk, rattling it a little, and immediately reminded me of the night when the boggart had jumped out of it and my helpful neighbour had come to my rescue. Damn. Just when I decide not to think about him, something happens to remind me of the real reason why I was awake at 3 am in the morning. Bill wasn't home yet, just like he wasn't last night and the whole day today. Admittedly, this wasn't the first time he had stayed the night out since I moved here, but something about his absence tonight sent an uneasy shiver down my spine. It was probably nothing. He might have decided to visit his family for the weekend or, maybe had a special someone he wanted to spend whole weekend, both day and night, with. The last thought sent a painful stab through my chest for reasons I refused to analyze at the moment. Sitting on my bed, I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, which was prickling with unease. It scared me, how much I cared about him, wanted him to be safe, in just a week. I knew I was attracted to him, but feeling attraction was not a new experience for me. This worrying, waiting up all night just to make sure he was safe, however, was unlike anything I have ever experienced before. Something that I didn't like, but unable to help anyways. For no apparent reason, I felt agitated, on the edge, having the urge to pace around the room, restless. Heaving another sigh, I shook my head and resolved to put all thoughts and worries, of my handsome boss slash neighbour out of my head and grab some much needed sleep before going to work. I got up from bed and walked out of the room to the kitchen, determined to wash the knot of worry down my throat, and go straight to sleep.
I hadn't taken two sips, however, when I heard faint footsteps ascending the stairs. With a booming heart, I quickly walked up to the door, pressing my ear to it, and heard the footsteps on the tiled floor of corridor now. I waited, straining to hear him walk inside and close his door, but what I heard was a clattering sound of something, maybe a stick or wand and his swear. What got me hurriedly grab my wand and undo my protective spells to open the door, though, was his paint filled groan and a hissing of breath that would have been impossible to hear had the night not been this quiet. Just as I wretched my door open, he opened his, ready to walk in, but paused at the doorway and peered over his shoulder at me. I saw a spark of surprise in his blue eyes, before he angled his head away from me, and without turning around asked, "Good eve- or rather, morning, Fleur. What are you doing up so late?" The whole evening of worry and lack of sleep, combined with irritation of him facing away while talking made my voice sharper than I intended, "I could ask you ze same, Bill. What are you doing up and out so late? I mean, Eet's only 'alf past three een ze morning." Angling his head towards me, but still not turning around, he said, "My apologies, if I disturbed your sleep with my late hours. I'll be sure to keep quiet. Go back to sleep, why don't you? And lock the doors good. You really shouldn't have opened it like that at this hour. Haven't I told you, it's not a very safe time?" His words only served to fuel my irritation as I placed my hands on my hips and said, "Oui, I beeleave you 'ave told me zat. But doesn't zat rule apply to you? Shouldn't you be 'ome at zese 'ours and not be out eef times are really zat bad?" My anger seemed to have surprised him, for he shifted a bit and dropped his wand on the floor with a clatter again. Only when I heard his almost quiet hiss, though, did I notice how heavily he was leaning on the wooden door frame, his knuckles on the knob white from gripping it tightly, as if fighting to keep the pain at bay. The thought of him in pain drained all the anger from my system, as I rushed towards him unconsciously, and touched his shoulder gently asking,"Everything OK, Bill? Are you alright?" When he didn't answer, I slowly turned him to face me and gasped as I took him in. His forehead was dark red and swollen with dried blood and grim, his lip had a cut with blood still oozing from it, one of his eye seemed to be on it's way of getting swollen and his hand pressing on the left of his chest told me that his ribs have suffered some battering. As I took in his wounded, bleeding, exhausted body, his eyes were trained on my face, no trace of laid back, young man there. He looked older, battered, and utterly beautiful. It was weird, I have never had a thing for injured men, but something about his wounds turned him from a crush worthy, charming boy to brave, strong, matured man worthy of falling in love with. The transition made my stomach flip, and I had a weird urge to kiss every one of his wounds until I had taken away all his pain. Which is the craziest thought I have ever had, the man is battered and obviously in pain, and here I am, getting turned on by his pain and injuries. Pathetic, and sadistic. I blinked and a almost mocking smirk pulled on his lips, "Pretty, aren't they?" All I could do was frown and ask, " 'ow? What 'appened?" Shaking his head, he started to turn away, saying, "Nothing. Good night, Fleur." No way was I letting him go to sleep, knowing his wound needed tending. On instinct, I reached out and caught his arm in a firm hold, catching him by surprise, and said, "Non, you can't go to bed without tending zem. Come, I'll take care of eet, and you." Then without waiting for his reply turned and walked to my door, pulling him carefully with me. With a flick of wand, I closed his door, then mine, placing the charms back after ushering him inside. He protested, but let me drag him to my newly repaired couch and dropped on it as if his legs couldn't hold him any longer. "I really am ok, Fleur. Just very tired. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix." I ignored his half hearted protests and rushed to the kitchen to retrieve my personal satchel of healing potions that my mother had mailed me months ago when I was selected for the tournament, along with a goblet and a rag cloth.
Sitting beside him, I pointed my wand at goblet and said, "Agumenti" filling the goblet with water. Dipping the cloth in it, I started cleaning the dried blood from his forehead and lips, wiping dirt from his face too. He flinched at first, but sat still all through my ministration, as I applied the essence of dittany on his forehead and back of his head where I found more dried blood and few pieces of stones stuck in his head, his eyes never leaving my face. After tending the wounds on his face, I shifted my focus to his ribs, gently moving his hand away and unbuttoning his shirt. I heard his breath hitch and a tremble went through my hand, making my fingers shake a little. His shirt fell open and my eyes were immediately drawn to a big purple bruise to the left of his chest. With gentle fingers, I traced the wounds and felt his muscles jump, from pain or something else, I wasn't sure. Breathlessly, he uttered, "Cracked. Two of them, if I felt right." Pointing my wand at his ribs, I started to cast a spell when he caught my wrist and asked, "You a healer?" Enjoying his warm fingers wrapped around my wrist too much, I replied, "Non, but I know what I am doing. Trust me." At his questioning look, I explained, "we were taught 'ow to tend wounds and broken bones before coming to 'ogwarts for ze tournament." Releasing my wrist, he sat back, while I whispered, "episkey" first to his cut lip then his ribs, his hiss of discomfort following as the spell worked. Picking up a vial of sluggish yellow gel, I applied it to his purple bruise to relieve the pain. Keeping all the vials away, I swished my wand and the supplies flew back to their places. Turning back to him, I found him staring at my with what could only be want, and maybe a bit awe in his eyes, which he voiced by saying, "I have to say I am surprised, not only by your competence with healing wounds, but also at the fact that you didn't push to know the reason behind them. I had assumed you to be an insufferable curious, Ms. Delacour." Shrugging I replied, "I am curious, but eef you don't want to say, I weel respect your wishes and not push eet. For now." Smiling softly, he said, "Is that so? You should be careful what you promise, Fleur, for I have lots of wishes, not being questioned being least of them." "And what might they be?" I asked, breathless. He replied by moving closer to me, his breath fanning on my lips making me shiver. "You don't want to know that, Ms. Delacour" his eyes trained in my lips. Inhaling his musky scent, I whispered, "You 'ave no idea 'ow much I do." His eyes flew to mine, and cupping my face he whispered in a tortured tone, "I am tired of trying to stay away from you, Fleur; tired of trying to keep you safe. Tell me to stop and I will, because heaven knows, I won't be able to do it myself any longer." I answered by simply moving closer to him, our lips nearly brushing. "You really should stay away from me, Fleur. I am not a very safe person to be with." With only thought of feeling his lips on mine, I said, "I'd rather die zen" and pressed my lips to his. An electrical shiver ran through me, raising goose bumps as his lips slowly and surely moved over mine. I have been kissed many times before, some had made me feel either like a China doll, or the last meal before death. Never have I ever been kissed like this. His lips moved softly over mine, making me melt into a puddle, but firm enough to ignite fire deep in my belly. I moaned when I felt his gentle yet confident tongue trace the seam of my lips, seeking entry, which I gave him gladly. His hand held hairs at the nape of my neck fast, making my scalp tingle, drawing out another moan from me, while his other hand grabbed my leg, pulling me over his lap, straddling him. I knotted my hands in his hairs, pressing myself to him. I have no idea how long we stayed like this, kissing one another senseless, but the ache in me grew to a breaking point and I squirmed, making him break the kiss, panting, his blue eyes almost black with want. Looking into them, I whispered, "Stay?" almost shyly for the first time in my life, to which he replied by lowering me to the couch and lying down beside me, our bodies flush with each other. Taking my wand, he pointed it at my bedroom doorway and said, "accio blanket." The blanket flew out of my room and landed on the back of couch. Spreading the blanket on and about us, he gathered me close, placing his arms around me while having my head on his shoulder. We stared at each other for a few minutes, before I remembered, belatedly, about the wound on chest and asked worriedly, "Your bruise, does eet steel 'urts?" "No, it surprisingly doesn't," he said, seeming just as surprised. Narrowing his eyes playfully at me, he said "Do you possess any other qualities that I am still, foolishly, unaware of?" Feeling light and playful, I pretended to think about it before replying, "Many, actually. What can I say? I am a femme with many talents." Laughing softly, in his rich deep voice, he replied, "Humility being most profound, I am sure." "'umility?" "Yeah. Modesty? Undermining your qualities?" "Oh. Of course. I 'ave lots of zat too somewhere. Along weeth curiosity." Laughing, we fell quiet for a few minutes, both lost in thoughts, before I asked, "Are we really together? Or are we to pretend zis never 'appened?" He exhaled and said, "I might not like the looks those goblins will give us, but I don't think I have it in me to pretend this never happened. What about you? I will understand if you choose the other way. Understand and accept it. Whatever you want." Looking up in his eyes, I replied, "You are not ze only one at ze end of 'is resolve to stay away, you know? Unless.." "Unless what?" "Will you ever tell me ze reason you don't come 'ome at night?" Whatever he saw on my face made him cup my cheek and say, "One day, I will. I promise. But not now, I am not ready to share that, and not just because of these late hours, though that is contributing to it too." Plucking courage, I asked, "Just tell me one theeng though. Ees zere someone who keeps you away so many nights?" I expected him to get offended, but he simply smiled and said, "The only someone keeping me away from home, before tonight is my mum. And today is you. I am raised better than to kiss a girl while have another waiting on me somewhere else, Fleur. If we do this, I need your trust. Will you give me that?" Will I? Even as I thought about it, I knew I trusted Bill with everything in me, even with knowing him for a week. Besides, I understood what he meant, myself not being ready to share the real reason for coming here. I nodded and snuggled closer to him, feeling him kiss my hairs softly, inhaling them. As I drifted to sleep in his arms, for the first time in months, I didn't have any disturbing nightmares about mazes, cloaked figures or dead friends. For the first time in months, I slept in peace.
