Blackbird

Chapter 42

The knock on Ted's door was as quiet as house-elf footprints, but to his already buzzed mind, it was like a Mandrake's Cry.

He glanced up groggily from his pillow. His door wasn't even closed, which ruled out his roommates and essentially anyone else he cared to talk to.

"Go away," he mumbled, pulling the pillow over his head.

"Ted?" came the soft, musical voice, just before she peeked her head inside.

He sat up quickly, which almost caused him to black out.

"Can I come in?" she asked, hesitantly.

He wanted to scream the word yes, but he didn't trust himself, so he just nodded.

She walked over slowly, carefully. Her arms folded tightly across her chest like she was trying to protect herself from something. Her eyes glanced over the dirty clothes everywhere, finally resting on the three empty bottles of Firewhiskey in front of him.

Ted turned red, but he didn't have any excuse to give. His heart sank a little as she sat on the end of bed, as far away from him as she could get.

"How did you get in here?" he asked, trying to sound sober, and probably failing. He could hardly believe she was here. She'd never broken a rule this significant before.

"I saw Teresa," she said, "just outside. She told me." She looked away, biting her lip the way she did when she felt uncomfortable.

He groaned. That was just what he needed. Teresa and Andromeda together, the two women whose hearts he'd managed to rip out.

"She's worried about you," Andromeda said. "She thought you might need me. But I'm, if you don't, or if this is a bad time I can leave—"

"No!" Ted shouted, far too loudly. Andromeda stared at him in alarm.

He swallowed. "I mean, you can stay, if you want too."

She didn't leave, but she didn't particularly look like she wanted to be there either. She'd never seen him drunk before, as far as he could remember, and it looked like she didn't like what she saw.

He sighed and collapsed back on his pillow. His day could not get any worse.

"Ted?" she asked. "What's going on?"

He didn't want to answer though, so instead he asked his own question. "Have you made up your mind?"

She blinked in confusion. "What?"

"About who you choose," he asked bitterly, unable to look at her. "Because it sure seems like it." His tone made it clear he wasn't assuming it was himself. It wasn't like she'd given him much hope. Despite her promises they'd hadn't spoken since that night. She was always with Rabastan.

"No, it's not that." She moved closer, then seemed to catch herself. "It's just that... I don't trust myself around you."

Now it was his turn to blink in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'm having a hard time keeping my hands to myself." She glanced at her lap, unable to meet his gaze, but that didn't undo her words.

He stared at her, open mouthed, from where he was lying on the pillow. Andromeda couldn't control herself around him? Maybe this wasn't a completely terrible day after all.

He laughed shakily, but even that wasn't enough, and soon his laughter died.

Andromeda glanced at him, her eyes bright with worry. Slowly, she edged a little closer.