Aftermath ✧ Sebastian Sallow

*chapter twenty-nine

A Little Mercy by City and Colour

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Mature Content Warning

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Sebastian's Perceptive

The view from the library proved more resourceful than the library itself. The window next to the table that Amelia always sat at perfectly overlooked the Great Lake. Every time I sat with her in the library, I was too busy staring at her to notice the view before. 

There was a lone light stilettoing someone by the dock on the boathouse. I rushed down the stone steps to the boathouse as soon as I made the connection.

As I walked down the wood planks of the dock, my suspicion was rewarded, a black scarf dotted with white stars, a pair of black heels, and long black gloves were disregarded by the stone staircase. Dampen footprints trail from the edge of the shallow water and down the length of the dock towards the deeper water. 

I picked up the disregarded clothing as I attempted to quietly walk down the side of the boathouse, hoping to hear feet tapping against the wood.

On top of one of the posts to the deck sat the beckon I'd seen from the library window. Amelia's wand was balancing unreliable on the wood. She's always had such a nasty habit of casting Lumos and then just leaving her wand wherever she felt best. She's lucky that she hasn't lost or broken it yet. 

I quickly took the illuminated wand in my free hand before a gust of unkind wind could knock it into the lake.

Blue eyes met mine as I peered around the corner. Amelia stood back from the edge of the dock, holding her dress crumbled in her fist, pulling the black silk high above her knee as she raised herself onto the ball of her feet like she was about to jump into the water. The black hair fell out of her braided updo as long wavy hair fell against her face. 

She didn't speak when she saw me, but her eyes shined impulsively. 

"Darling, what do you think you're doing?" I asked slowly placing her belongings down, but keeping the glowing wand in one hand for the light. I didn't want to spook her and cause her to jump into the water. It was freezing outside and far too cold to chase her into the lake.

Amelia's eyes flickered back to the lake, the scar on her neck stretching out as her head turned. It was the first time I'd seen her scar seen dropping her off at St. Mungo's. Now that the dark dried blood was cleaned off, the wound itself was more visible. It was lower on her neck than I remembered, a purple-red tearing just inches from the tip of her collarbone to behind her shoulder. 

I could still smell how her skin burned when I cast the spell to stop the bleeding. Even if Harlow had been the one to create it by cutting it open, I felt a sense of guilt that I made it worse by burning it shut. As if the fading scar on her eyebrow last year wasn't enough of a reminder of how poorly I treated her.

Her arms and legs were also covered in dotted with old and fresh bruises. Little red lines shattered her skin as if someone was testing an inked quill over and over. Suddenly the long black gloves felt less like a fashion statement and more like a bandaid.

"How long do you think I could float for?" Amelia asked eyes fixated on the waves in front of her.

"Now doesn't seem like a good time for a float," I dismissed, taking a few slow steps closer to her and holding out an open hand, "Why don't we sit down?"