Jumbled Feelings (Amelia's View)

Amelia sighed as she entered her room and leant against the closed door. Whatever possessed her to do such a thing? She was surprised to still be alive after the way she threw herself at Constance. She had always been intrigued by the younger woman, there were scars on her soul, that until tonight had been there, but well buried. Amelia had been curious to find out where they had come from, but hadn't thought they'd have anything to do with Heckity Broomhead. Perhaps she shouldn't find out, but if Constance had been hurt, and was still hurting she needed to do something about it. She recalled the moment she knew that she had fallen in love with her deputy head, eight years ago on a camping trip with a group of first years. It was hard to imagine Constance even more rigid than she was now, but she was. Needless the say, Great British weather being like it is it rained all week. The girls were starting to get colds and feeling miserable. Amelia booked them into a hotel for the rest of the trip as a treat. Constance had been grouchy over the expense ad frivolity of it, but as Amelia was the headmistress and ruler of the purse strings, she was having none of it. They booked into a twin bedded room to share. It was situated at the top of the corridor the girls rooms were in. Constance came out of the shower one morning, her hair was wet and her loose, unruly curls bounced as she moved. She wore a towel around her body (black of course) and little else. Amelia stared in shock as well as interest. Those legs seemed to go on forever, and the curly mess she called hair looked just ravishing in the low light of morning. She had even spent an evening or two lounged on her bed, reading a thick book with a glass of wine in her hand and a small, thin smile on her lips. This was a whole different side of Constance Hardbroom, and Amelia felt privileged to have been a part of it. Of course it hadn't taken long for Constance to feel uncomfortable under Amelia's gaze. She was curled up on her bed one evening reading "Potions for adults: a witches guide." Amelia was seated on the edge of her own bed, a ball of black-grey wool in her lap and a half knitted...something, in her hands. Except she had stopped knitting and was staring mushy eyed at Constance. Constance peered ever so delicately around the side of her book to look right at her watcher. Amelia wasn't even aware she was being stared at right back, her eyes had been somewhere along the length of Constance's body.

"What on earth are you staring me like that for?" Amelia jumped, damn and blast! She'd been caught out. Amelia flushed " Constance just tutted and turned over on her side. Amelia mentally kicked herself, now Constance was upset with her. Perhaps she could find some way of making it up to her. She suddenly jumped up from her bed. Constance barely acknowledged the sudden movement from her roommate. The door reverberated on it's hinges as Amelia fled the room, causing Constance to drop the book she had been attempting to read. After an hour or two, Amelia had come back and presented Constance with a box of dark chocolates in the various witch shapes. It wasn't quite what would have cheered Constance up, but it had made her smile (as much as she could) nonetheless. Amelia found herself back in the present still leaning up against her bedroom door. Their relationship had changed slowly over the last eight years, from mere colleagues to, well not quite friends, but as close as anyone could get to Constance Hardbroom and that was quite a feat. But even more gradually an undercurrent of something else had crept up on them. Amelia was no fool and knew that if she met with Constance tonight things would irrevocably change between them. She hastily changed into her nightgown and made her way to Constance's room.