"Sebastian… can I ask you something?"
Clara's voice was soft and tentative against the sound of the wind in the trees and birds settling in for the evening. She was loath to push him any farther after the afternoon's events, but she could ignore no longer the worry that had nagged at her ever since her first visit to the cottage in Feldcroft.
Too quickly, their footsteps crunched over the thin layer of frost dusting the path away from the cottage as she waited for a reply, struggling to keep up with his longer strides. She was almost convinced he hadn't heard her after several long seconds, but finally he let out a breath and slowed his furious pace. "Of course."
She bit her lower lip, steeling herself. She had to know. The old ache in her chest was throbbing as her worries tugged at wounds in her heart that had been long and improperly closed. She had to ask.
"Why… why are there only two beds in your uncle's house?"
Sebastian's pace slowed yet further, and she nearly ran into him as she finally caught up. He cast a furtive glance at her over his shoulder before dropping his eyes to fiddle with his gloves. "So you noticed that, did you?" he snorted. Under the familiar sarcastic tone, she imagined she could hear a note of pain in his voice.
"I did," she carefully replied. When he remained silent, she pressed on. "I didn't mean to pry. Of course I didn't want to go poking around your home, sticking my nose where it doesn't belong. But when Anne asked me to retrieve her cloak today, I looked in the other bedroom, and, well… I couldn't help but notice." She trailed off, unsure and wondering if she would come to regret this line of questioning. She let her words hang in the air.
Sebastian sighed and lowered his voice. "It could be that he's replacing an old one while I'm away for the school year. Furniture isn't cheap. Or maybe one was broken and is being repaired."
"Yes, that could be true." They were side by side now, Sebastian having stopped walking altogether. His eyes were cast down at the ground, and Clara trained hers onto his bowed shoulders. Noticed his hands shoved in his pockets, his unwillingness to meet her gaze, the note of bitterness in his voice. She summoned her courage for one last try– if he continued deflecting, she would let it lie.
"But that's not the truth, is it."
Finally, he raised his eyes to meet her gaze briefly before shifting his attention to something in the distance. His expression was oddly blank. "No, it's not the truth."
She felt her heart crack along those same old fault lines. "Sebastian…" He turned away from her as if to take off down the path out of town once more. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Sebastian, where do you stay when you're not at school?"
She knew what she had seen. There were only two small bedrooms in that tiny cottage. She had seen Solomon storm into one and slam the door shut, but not before revealing its contents: a single bed and desk. Anne had sent her into the other to retrieve her cloak, and the feminine contents of the small room and its single bed bore no evidence that a boy had ever lived there.
He stiffened under her touch, refusing to turn back towards her. "This really isn't your business, you know," he said, but his words had no real bite.
"I know," she replied. Waiting.
After a beat, his posture relaxed slightly. He reached up to take her hand that had come to rest on his shoulder and began leading her back the way they had come. "Come this way. I'll show you."
At first, she assumed they were heading back towards the cottage. But when the home was just in sight, he veered them off to the left. After several more paces, they stood before a small shed adjoining the property. He laughed lightly, but the sound lacked real humor. "Home sweet home."
When he swung the door open, the old ache in her chest intensified. If the cottage was small, this place was a shoebox, consisting of a single room. When she had seen this place on previous visits, she had assumed it was where the Sallows stored their firewood. And indeed, a stack of firewood was balanced against one of the walls. But the rest of the room was occupied by a potions station, a bookshelf, a small lamp, and blankets and pillows spread on the floor.
Clara turned to look at him in disbelief. "Please tell me this is some kind of an elaborate joke." There was barely room enough for both of them to stand inside without touching. Notably, she could see her breath, and there was no fireplace. "Your uncle can't seriously be allowing you to sleep out here."
"Allowing me?" There was that dark, choking laugh again, the one she only heard when he was feeling particularly bitter. "He made clear a couple of years ago that this arrangement was supposed to help adjust my attitude. Anne fought him on it, for a long time. But ever since she was cursed, we've had bigger things to worry about." He shrugged. "And honestly, sometimes I think it's better that I have a place to escape from him."
She took another step towards the bedding spread on the hard packed dirt floor, half turning away from him. Against her will, she recalled nights spent huddled in the linen closet, closing her eyes tight against the awful sounds of unconstrained male rage and choked back female screams.
"Little love, stay quiet."
Clara reached out a trembling hand to trace the contours of a picture frame sitting on the bookshelf. A smiling couple each held a twin in their arms, the charmed photo allowing the family to laugh together and rock their two small babies. The babies giggled, reaching up towards their parents' faces.
"Sebastian…"
And then before she knew it, she had turned abruptly and buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. She heard the breath knocked out of his lungs as she did so, his arms coming to rest lightly on her back after a brief moment of surprise. "You don't deserve this." She mumbled the words into the fabric of his robes, feeling like squeezing the life out of him was the only thing holding herself together.
"Hey…" After a moment, he was slowly able to push her by the shoulders so that she was forced to meet his eyes. "It's okay." She let out a sound of disbelief, shaking her head. "No, really, it is. I prefer as much space as I can get from my uncle. And I spend most of my time at school, anyway. Plus, it's not near as cold as this in the summer."
She sighed and released him, stepping back with a tinge of red in her features when she realized their proximity. "That really doesn't make it any better." She was surprised by the feeling of his gloved hand on her face, and then was startled to realize that he was wiping away a tear that was running down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I meant to be there for you, and instead it's you that's calming me down."
Sebastian chuckled, and she heard some real mirth behind it this time. "I don't mind." Taking a brief look around the room once more, he took her by the hand and guided her back out the doorway. "Let's head back to the castle, though. It will be dark soon."
As they set back off down the path, he kept hold of her hand. She could feel the warmth of his grip even through both of their gloves and wondered if he'd merely forgotten to let her go. She didn't intend to remind him, appreciating the anchor to their present moment preventing her from losing herself in memories she would give anything to forget.
They walked in silence for long minutes, the sun dipping low in the dusky sky and long rays chasing them along the path, until almost against her will the words clawed their way out of her throat. "I had a place like that, too."
Sebastian's sharp gaze suddenly turned to her, and felt like it sliced her in two. "What do you mean?"
"A place to escape." She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest, burrowing her chin a little farther into her scarf. The chill was suddenly a little too much for her to bear. "I understand needing to hide sometimes."
He paused before he responded. "Hide from what?"
She imagined she could feel the wounds deep in her heart start to bleed once more. She cut her eyes over towards the boy next to her and saw his eyebrows furrowed, his expression dark. "Someone… someone who should have loved me. You know what that's like."
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
He caught her hand again as they reached the castle gate. Both lost in thought, neither thought to let go.
I should not be posting this today, for many reasons. It's not even edited. But I couldn't get this idea to leave my head. Perhaps someday it will turn into a larger fic idea. Hope you enjoyed this little one shot!
~Lady E