"Bloody hell, I'm not a child! I'm in my thirties, thank you very much."
"I'm well aware of that fact. However, I don't think it's wise."
"Wise? Damn it, Severus, I just want a thrice-bedamned shower!"
He crossed his arms and stared at the woman, who glared vehemently back at him, her fists clenching the bedsheets under her. Beside her, Galileo's fur bristled, and her customary low growl made itself known.
I'll be damned if I let her cat and her stubborn pride win…
"And how many dizzy spells have you had in the last twenty-four hours?"
"I just want five minutes under hot water."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Preferably with soap."
"How many times, Selene?"
" Five minutes!"
"How many?"
Selene's growl matched her pet's. "Six. Maybe seven. I don't know. Does that one count?"
He shot her a look of pure exasperation. "Oh, you mean the one where you decided to sneak downstairs and stepped on Galileo's tail when you were trying to regain your footing rather than fall down the staircase? Yes, that counts."
"Damn."
Severus groaned, mostly in frustration, slightly in genuine annoyance. Hera's temper, that woman would try the patience of anyone. Stubborn was too mild a word to use. Independent barely began to describe her.
Sounds familiar, doesn't it?
Bugger off, bloody conscience.
In all honesty, she needed a shower. After all, cleaning charms weren't meant to be used for prolonged periods of time on people. It might even do her some good. But he didn't want to risk her collapsing in the bathroom.
That would open a whole world of liability that he wasn't remotely ready to cope with just yet.
"Fine."
Selene rolled her eyes at the man. "Thank you, oh kind and generous prison warden."
His eyes shone with black fire as he glared at her, before silently storming from his bedroom to the guest room across the hall, slamming the door behind him.
Galileo looked up at her mistress with a look of feline amusement.
"Well, I'm glad someone is enjoying this."
Pushing herself up off the bed, Selene walked, slowly, to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, locking it, a smirk on her face at that slight rebellious act. The candlelight flickered, and her reflection in the mirror shocked her again. Her fingers worked quickly to let her hair down from its braid, which at least lessened the overall sickly appearance. The braid had left her hair in waves, which gave it a slight bit of body.
Which is more than I can say for the rest of me.
She drew back the shower curtain to turn the water on and stopped. Lined on a built-in shelf were her toiletries. Shampoo, conditioner, soap. Not his. Hers. She turned to go ask him about it, when she noticed her bathrobe hanging from the hook on the door.
Why am I so surprised? He brought my hairbrush and perfume.
Probably because you're not used to others' thoughtfulness.
She hated the voice in her head. It was almost always right.
The hot water felt amazing to her. Soap and water carried away what she imagined to be days' worth of sweat, tears, and the overall feeling of lethargy that she'd been feeling since she woke up. She hated it. Hated the feeling of uselessness, of dependency. She hadn't been this sick since she was at Durmstrang, when a bottle of hellebore had been deliberately mislabeled in potions.
She'd spent a month in the hospital wing thanks to that bit of poisoning. Igor Karkaroff had spent a month in detention.
He'd called it his 'little test'.
Selene closed her eyes, letting the hot water sluice through her hair, pushing the memory back into the very corners of her mind. She hated that memory, more for the lingering aftereffects than anything else.
Half a lifetime ago, and that man still manages to convince you not to trust.
If she was going to be fair to her memories, she had to admit that it wasn't only him. The few times she let her guard down to trust anyone had ended in disaster. Igor had only been the first.
She'd sworn Anatoli would be the last.
That man was the reason she'd been interrogated in Azkaban.
He's cared for you, Selene. Fed you, held you while you cried. Read you a story because you were afraid to be alone. He brought you here to keep you safe. What has he done to earn your distrust?
The answer was simple. Nothing. Yet.
He's not Igor. He's not Anatoli. He's not Claudius. He's a different person. Treat him differently.
I can't.
Then why are you even considering it?
That answer was even more simple.
I'm tired of not trusting.
He paced in the spare room, which was frustrating, considering he had to turn around after only two steps. His ears strained for the faintest sound of her falling, stumbling, anything. He'd tried to warn her about the dizzy spells that Pomfrey had told him to expect.
She hadn't cared.
Somehow, he hadn't been surprised.
Severus rubbed his face, still tired from the lack of considerable sleep the last several days, grimacing as his hands felt the scratch of his beard. He hadn't even found time to shave, let alone sleep. Naps here and there weren't enough anymore, but he'd been too afraid to sleep deeper than that, for fear of not hearing Selene if she needed him.
And why you can't admit your concern runs deeper than that of a colleague or friend, I'll never know.
Because admitting to something I'll never be able to act upon is futile.
How are you so sure you'll never be able to act?
Should I list the reasons alphabetically or chronologically?
Shouldn't it be her choice too?
Damn conscience.
The water stopped running in the bathroom, and his ears perked up, his pacing ceasing, waiting for her to get out so she could get back to bed and he could stop panicking about finding her sprawled out on the floor somewhere, with a twisted ankle or broken wrist or Merlin knows what else she could manage to do to herself.
Long minutes passed. Far more than the five she'd promised. He started to grow worried. What if she'd quietly passed out after getting out of the shower? What if…
His hand was on the doorknob as she pulled it open.
"Oh. Sorry. I just…"
Selene gave him a look, her hair damp and hanging in waves around her face, her dark blue bathrobe overwhelming her, by far too large for her slender frame. "You thought I died or something, didn't you?"
He didn't need to reply. His guilty expression was proof enough.
"I'm fine, Severus. See? Big witch. I managed to shower and dry my hair and brush my teeth, all without one single dizzy…"
Selene lost her footing as the hallway began spinning around her.
Severus barely caught her before she fell backward. Arms braced in his hands, he pulled her to her feet, her head leaning on his shoulder for support, her body limp against his. "You were saying?"
"Shut up and tell me when the room stops moving."
Her eyes were closed, keeping the swimming vertigo to a minimum, and she allowed him to hold her in place. The scent of cloves invaded her senses, carried on the frock coat he always wore, her mind beginning to wander, images slipping across her subconscious that were far from sane.
Stop it! Bloody hell, Selene, don't lose it now!
His arms supported her as she slowly regained her own footing, her damp hair clinging to his cheek. The scent of jasmine wafted towards his nose, and the slight shiver that ran through her reminded him how vulnerable she was right at this moment.
Don't even consider it…
"Come on. Back to bed for you."
"No."
"Don't be stubborn, Selene."
"Then stop being so controlling, Severus."
"Damn it, I'm only controlling because you're too stubborn to know what's best for you!"
His angry roar shocked Selene, and she staggered back a step, staring hard at him. The unkemptness of his appearance, the shadow of an unshaven beard on his face, his eyes heavy, circles underneath them…
Gods above and below, I've been a selfish brat, haven't I?
About bloody time you realize that.
Her silence gave him a chance to calm down.
No point losing your temper. Besides, if it were you in her stead, would you condone such coddling?
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you."
Point taken.
Selene watched his eyes. His face never changed from the hard, set lines that had grown so familiar, both over the last months and last days. Somehow, she wondered if he had lost the ability to drop the harshness etched around the high cheekbones and sharp nose. But his eyes…
If you knew what to look for, his eyes told a variety of tales. For a second, a flash of pain crossed the ebony depths.
It cut Selene deeply.
"It's alright. I would have yelled too." Her voice shook slightly, her pulse quickening of its own accord.
They stood there, eyes locked on the other's for what felt like hours.
Do yourself a favor, girl. For once, don't question yourself. Don't second-guess. Just act.
Her hand lifted, taking a lifetime to reach his cheek, feeling the warmth of his flesh, the sharp prick of his beard, the pulse that beat through his neck. With a deliberate, smooth motion, she closed the distance between them, rising on tiptoe, reaching, her lips brushing his like a whisper.
Guided by instinct rather than conscious thought, his hand crept around her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer still, the rough feel of the cotton contrasting with the soft glide of her hair against the back of his knuckles. Pressing harder on her lips, his other hand slid into her hair, pulling gently, stroking upward along her neck.
Galileo's meow of approval, followed by the gentle thump of her jumping from the bed and strolling down the staircase, pawing the downstairs door open, drew Selene out of her daze. As if burned, she snatched her hand back, shaking slightly, panting, her lips parted just enough for her fangs to catch the light from the hallway sconces. Without explanation or comment, she turned to walk back into the bedroom.
Severus stood there in the hallway, as if petrified.
As he saw the door begin to swing shut, however, he snapped out of his trance. Slamming his hand on the door, he stopped her from shutting it completely. "What the hell was that?"
"A kiss." Her voice was muffled, her back to him.
"Believe me, Selene, I'm not so solitary that I wasn't aware of that."
"Then why ask, if it was so obvious?"
"I'm not talking about the kiss!" A soft shake of her shoulders was the only clue she gave him that she was crying. Silently, he walked to her, turning her around, lifting her chin to make her face him. " I'm talking about you walking away like that."
A tear slid down her cheek, trailing to the corner of her mouth, salt hitting her tongue as she licked her dry lips. Selene's voice was soft, barely audible despite the closeness, her eyes looking away, not meeting his. "Have you ever done something you know you should regret, but you can't, no matter how hard you try?"
He nodded once, slowly.
Her chin quavered, her eyes spilling over with more tears, her spine going stiff, trying to keep her courage up. "This is my regretless regret."
Severus shook his head, his thumb brushing her cheek, the motion reminding him of a spot of ink and a drink in a pub months before. The memory struck him, twisting his gut, remorse and disappointment eating at him. "If this is what you want…" His hand withdrew, and he stepped back, his eyes reflecting lament.
If you let this go, you're not the woman I thought you were…
"It's not what I want." Her voice stopped him as he hit the threshold to his bedroom. "It hasn't been what I've wanted in weeks." Selene's voice trembled, seeming paler and more fragile in the large robe, her black hair tangling around her face.
"Weeks?" His voice barely reached her ears.
Her eyes reflected the brokenness within, as she gave up on any semblance of dignity. "Weeks. I've wanted this for weeks. And I can't have it."
I swear to Morgan herself, if I live a thousand years, I'll never understand women!
"Give me one damned good reason why."
She actually flinched from the heated anger burning in his words. "Look at me, damn it. I'm a vampire. I'm one of those creatures that everyone in our world is taught to fear and hate, and everything that Muggles have believed are fairy tales and horror stories. I drink blood to quench this unstoppable hunger, and if I wanted to, I could bite you and turn you into what I am. I live and breathe, Severus, but I'm not human. Just because I age and I can see myself in a mirror and I can at least spend a few minutes in daylight doesn't mean I'm normal, or safe, or allowed to have this." Her voice shook with violent emotions – rage, sorrow, remorse, self-loathing. "I don't know why, and I don't know if I want to know why, but you don't look at me and see some sort of monster. You don't see some creature to fear or some liability. You treat me like I'm alive, like I matter, and that scares me and confuses me and I don't know how to react to it, and all I want to do is let you in."
He turned slowly, just enough to look at her over his shoulder, his hair hanging down, covering his face, wisps hiding the sharp features. "And if I wanted in?"
Her resolve crumbled. "Don't let me let you in."
"Why?"
"Because I want it too much."
Three long strides drew him closer to her, within reach. Without warning, he snatched up her arm, his fingers deftly unwinding the gauze that covered the self-inflicted puncture wounds. Ignoring Selene's whimper and jerk of her arm, trying to free herself, Severus bared the marks to the air, his eyes boring into hers as he brought her arm to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on the spot. "You are alive, you do matter, and you're not some sort of monster. Trust me, I've seen monsters. I've seen darkness and evil and hate. You're none of that, Selene. And if anyone has told you otherwise, they were wrong."
Her skin felt burned from the kiss, from the softness of the touch. His fingers still encircled her wrist, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from them.
It was the longest sustained contact she could remember in years.
Why are you pushing this away? You want this. He wants this. Why question it?
What if he…?
Didn't you say you were tired of not trusting? Trust. Just this once.
This time, when she reached up against him, her lips finding his, she didn't back away.