Magic, Madness, Heaven, Sin (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

YOU'LL COME BACK EACH TIME YOU LEAVE

Sebastian may be suspended from Quidditch matches until the new year, but that fact does not stop Imelda from forcing him to participate in practice skirmishes even as snowfall blankets the pitch. At first, he protests, in no mood to leave the Slytherin common rooms for anything but class and the occasional meal. He does not want to socialize or deal with half-hearted sympathies from people who know nothing about what he is going through. Besides, what is the point in practicing if he cannot play?

However, one does not simply say no to Imelda Reyes.

She is already on a short fuse when she practically drags him from his dormitory that Saturday morning, uncaring that he wants nothing more than to sleep and shut out the world. They curse at each other in Gaelic but he eventually relents and follows her, much like a petulant child with his overbearing mother. Maybe it will be good for him to get some fresh—albeit freezing—air.

Sebastian hovers high in the sky, watching through the snow flurries as his teammates circle the field and practice their laps and reaction times for catching Quaffles and dodging Bludgers. Admittedly, he is still despondent, finding it difficult to focus on his surroundings when all he wants to do is wallow in his own self-pity. Turns out Quidditch is not the best distraction from a heartbreak he doesn't even want to admit he's suffering from.

Two weeks.

It has been two weeks.

Fourteen agonizing days since Sloane...

He doesn't even know what to call it. A break-up? No. That implies that their relationship was more than just...well, whatever it was.

Was.

Past tense.

Call it what you want, the ache in his chest hasn't dulled. As if all the walls he ever built to keep himself safe from this type of pain crumbled overnight. It might be an exaggeration but Sebastian knows he has never felt so anguished, so broken and unsure of what to do. It isn't like he has never dealt with rejection before but this...this is different.

Something in the back of his mind tries to be rational—that he is young and has a lifetime to find the right person and fall in love. But he doesn't want that. What he wants, more than anything, is Sloane.

Sloane is who he wants to fall in love with, if he hasn't already.

While he has no regrets, maybe his life would be less melancholy if he never approached her in the library two months ago. The timeline makes his spin even more. How can he have such intense emotions about a person he barely knows? How can he be in love with Sloane when she has only been present in his life for such a short amount of time?

Sebastian reminds himself that it doesn't matter how he feels, not anymore, not when whatever they shared is over.

Even though his teeth are chattering and he can barely feel his extremities, he doesn't bother with casting a warming spell, welcoming the numb sensation. He grips his broom handle and Beater's bat a little harder, watching as his breath comes out as a large puff of white air in front of his face.

Engrossed in his own little world, Sebastian doesn't even realize his name is being called—screamed—from across the pitch, not until a Bludger smacks him right upside the head. He immediately loses control of his broom, spiraling toward the ground as his vision fades. The last thing he remembers is being suspended by magic, a floating sensation, before landing with a soft thud into the snow.

"Sebastian?"

He knows he is no longer sprawled on the Quidditch field based on the soft pillows beneath his head and the overwhelming smell of ditany. It makes his stomach queasy—or maybe that is the nausea from the rattling in his skull.