Unspoken // Theseus Scamander

Chapter Eighteen - Mistake

Word Count: 2,790 words. 

Warnings: None. 

Packing didn't take as long as it had the last time. There were several reasons for that. To begin, I wasn't in such a rush to get to New York whereas I knew that every second counted in how slowly I prepared to go to France. 12 months had been enough.

Another reason was that I had yet to entirely unpack from visiting America. I had, in short, been working out of my suitcase for the past year. When I washed the clothes, I didn't rush to put them in my wardrobe, instead just placing them neatly into the large travel bag.

Lifting a pile out to re-arrange the clothes, I froze upon seeing what rested at the bottom of the case. Gently, I put the clothes on the nearby chair and reached down to pick it up. It was a flyer for the Second Salem Sisters.

I could remember when I picked it up and how I had helped a young boy when his pile had fallen to the ground. How he had smiled slightly, thanking me. If only I had known then.

He knocked on my door and somehow, I knew exactly who it was before they called out. "Go away Scamander."

"Nat, can we talk?" There it was. The question, that stupid question that could never end well.

"No," I told him simply. "I'm trying to pack for Paris."

"You can't go to Paris Nat, the Minister would never authorise it given your history with the Obscurus case. With Credence," the man tried to explain.

I scoffed, placing the leaflet down and moving closer to the door of my apartment. "Good thing he isn't my boss. I'm not an idiot Theseus, you're the one that had to sign my travel papers, allow me time off to explore this."

There was silence as I approached the door, placing a gentle hand on the doorknob. I wanted to let him in, of course I did, but it was for reasons that should never come to light. I knew how amazing it was to kiss him, but kiss him sober? That was an entirely different feeling all together.

"Let me in Nat," he requested, and I closed my eyes, leaning forward to rest my head against the wooden door.

"I think its best I don't Scamander. I'm going to Paris," I tried.

When he spoke again, I could hear it in his voice. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, but his words coursed through me like they never had before.

"Let me in," he said.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, "because I can't let you in if you're drunk. We both remember what happened last time. It was the biggest mistake of our lives."

There was a small silence. "I'm stone-cold sober Nat," he answered.

I couldn't help myself then, turning the doorknob and pulling the door open. I dropped my hands as I noticed him.

He stood, as prim and proper as he always was, hand delicately placed in his pockets and eyes watching me with that careful look. I couldn't help my fluttering stomach. I had kissed him sober now; I should have never kissed him sober.

"I'm going to Paris," I told him sternly.

Theseus swallowed with a nod. "I know."

He rushed forward without hesitation, hands leaving his trouser pockets and reaching out for my face. He kissed me, hard, causing both of us to stumble backwards. I held onto his forearms lightly, not being able to control myself as I kissed back.

When he broke for air that was when I shoved his away, panting and running a finger across my tingling lips. Scamander, also breathless, ran a hand through his hair, the other set firmly on his hip. He closed his eyes as his hand ran down to his mouth.