Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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The golden light that streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian's and my quarters – the light that usually begins my day with warmth on my skin and a feeling similar to the unexpected delight of spotting a rogue bunny on a forest trail – seems to mock me with its typically welcome glow.
It's laughable to think about the fact that I entertained a possibility where Sebastian Sallow, my long lost boy, could return and that our hearts could unite, that Ominis could have closure, and that we could all go on as normal.
Nothing about you is fucking normal, April. It never is.
Turning to my side, I realize I'm alone in this bed when my hand stretches outward and feels no other half for my whole.
"Bash?"
No answer.
The aching of my bones these past few mornings since my recovery has been inconvenient to say the least. After long nights of sleep, it feels like my bones reduce to half their size and, upon waking, they all need to grow and stretch into their full form. The sting of it dissipates with time. Coffee takes the edge off, rattling through my bones like a cicada's call. But I have yet to reveal to anyone why I'm more eager than ever for my go-to bevvie these last few mornings.
God, I need it.
My throat makes an unflattering groan of discomfort all on its own when I lead with my legs, hurling them up and over my body to hoist myself off the bed's edge. Dignified, elegant swan that I am, an unexpected numb foot that must have fallen asleep while I was doing the same prevents me from standing normally as I had expected to do. Instead, I fall to the floor in a squall of limbs and my throat makes an even more unflattering guffaw as I laugh at my own clumsiness, slapping at my foot and calf to jolt it to attention until finally – fuck these pins and needles – I can finally meander towards the little kitchen wing to brew a fresh cuppa joe.
"Oh!" The final involuntary exhalation from my throat sounds quietly when I stumble upon sweet Sebastian collapsed atop the kitchen table, fast asleep. His hair is in a great knot at the back of his head. His glasses are pressed into his face, and I gently slip them off without rousing him, thank god. The great slumbering mountain of his bare back rises and falls with his breaths and my fingertips reach to trace the alluring contours of his muscles, circling the more prominent freckles on his shoulders, and finally tracing the brown outlines of our shared markings on his shoulder.
I realize in all the hustle and bustle of the past days, I haven't had time to research the orbit-like markings that Elder Väinö channeled into our skin during the binding ceremony. I haven't yet compared them to any charts or books, let alone asked Professor Shah about them. The fact that my splinch-marks are integrated into our design is a fascination to me. 'Born of love, solidified in destiny,' Väinö had said when I asked his theory about it. But even more fascinating are the map-like orbits that now adorn us at the tops of our sides and shoulders, culminating in a sun-like burst at our shoulder's pinnacle, and descending into more constellation-like marks down the upper arm.
