He Couldn't Be That Bad? // Sebastian Sallow and You (spicy)

37. Post Funerary Demands

Damon grunts as he presses himself up to his feet. "Bloody hell, Sallow. You --ugh– you cast crucio on me."

But Sebastian isn't paying attention. "Where did that bloody efl take him?!" He bellows.

"I don't know. But wherever it is, I don't think it's good." Damon winces but his gaze flicks to the peach pit on the ground, and now it's like he can look everywhere in the room except at me.

Sebastian is stomping, shouting up to the ceiling with clenched fists. "Marvolo's lucky that elf took him. I would have gladly ripped him apart bit by bit. Then turned him into an inferi as to torture him for all time."

"Understandable, yet unnecessary." I wipe my sticky chin with the back of my hand.

Seeing this, Sebastian's face gets so soft it breaks my heart. He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around me. "I'm sorry– I'm. I'm so glad you're alright." Burying his face in my hair, I feel my whole body relax in his arms. A protective cage around me, shielding me from everything that just happened. His body shudders and with another exhale his breathing is labored, and I realize he's crying.

I squeeze him tighter and the sobs come easily now. His voice is ragged as he says just to me. "I was so scared."

The admission cuts me deeply. Sebastian might get startled. He might not see something coming. But scared? It's a feeling I didn't realize he was capable of. But for me– he was scared for me.

His hand shifts up, holding the back of my head, pressing me tighter against his face as he showers me with kisses. My ears, up along my forehead, down my nose and cheeks and finally placing a trembling earnest kiss to my lips.

My hands move up to either side of his face. "I was too. Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry about Anne. I don't deserve your choice. But I'm thankful you chose me. We'll figure out another way to find her."

Sebastian's face changes to anger in the blink of an eye. His fear flipping quickly to rage as he points his wand at Damon. "You bastard. You still owe me my sister."

"And you still owe me Emmeline." Damon chuffs. But his mask of cold aloofness is cracked around the edges. The way his hands still tremble gives him away. "First thing's first. We should help Ominis sort out this mess down stairs."

A house elf pops into the room, holding a damp rag out to me. "Penelope was told you'd need a cleaning up."

"Thank you." I take the rag, and to my surprise Damon quickly replaces the item in Penelope's hand for an old night shirt.

"Go, tell the others to find me quickly." Damon says, his arms laden with clothes.

Penelope's eyes widen but she wastes no time, disappearing in a pop.

After helping me to my feet, Sebastian takes his time to delicately wipe the sticky mess from my face, chin, and neck. I look into his strained eyes and try to keep my tone a light whisper. "Looks like we'll have to make another trip to the Prefect's tub if we want to do a thorough job."

But he doesn't react to my joke as I'd expect. His eyes only get sadder and he swallows hard enough I see his throat bob. "Perhaps later."

Wow, this must have affected him more than I thought. Guilt sags his expression. And I want to scold him for prioritizing arguing with Damon, but I also want to scold myself as I was the fool who let my guard down. Especially after I was expressly told not to trust anyone. But the one who's most at fault is Marvolo, and I try not to let shame and guilt blame anyone but him. Even as the sticky fruit gets cleaned from my skin, the stick of humiliation remains.