Shelter of Our Night || Sebastian Sallow

A Tattered Reminder

After sending an owl, you manage to hide in a Muggle inn for the morning, scarfing down a breakfast and ignoring the intensity of Sebastian's gaze.

Four years, and that hasn't changed one bit.

You know questions are burning on his tongue. The moment you mentioned your old flame Lance Weasley, a shadow crossed his face. It brings forth a whole host of emotions, ones both rational and not. Guilt, shame. Even if he asks after him, you won't say anything – that time of your life was so personal to you, and you aren't ready to relive it yet.

The pressing issue of Isidora is very much your priority now. You have to shake Sebastian. Whatever Isidora wants with him, alone, cannot be for anything good. Unfortunately, though an unmarried man and woman gallivanting together is considered taboo in the Muggle world, it seems you are so removed from polite society that no one seems to care, so you can't use that as an excuse to extricate yourself from his company. The soup bowl steams over his face, glistening his skin.

"Now that we're fed and watered," he says, keeping his voice low, "what's our next move?"

It is truly unfair how, even after being thrown around like a ragdoll these past two days, Sebastian Sallow manages to make being good-looking easy. He must've scrubbed himself properly clean at Garreth's place, as his hair is shiny, silken, and his natural musk tugs you in, like a thread tied to your pinkie. His facial hair is neat, enough to age him like a fine wine, and when he speaks, his voice trills down your spine, sending a type of heat through you that you knew you shouldn't feel.

"Truthfully, I don't know," you say, averting your eye. "We should wait for a reply from Ominis and Gibby."

"That could be a couple of hours."

"Then we lay low and wait."

He nods. "We have to draw her out of your head."

"I know."

"So you must have some idea how to do that, right? Come on, isn't there some ancient magic thing you can whip out?"

You lean back, fidgeting with your cup of tea. "Nothing that I've ever read about ancient magic talks of any situation like mine."

"You have four years magical education over me. There must be something."

"If you'll recall," you say, a little irritable, "I started in fifth year. Technically you have more magical education then me."

He leans back too, scoffing. "Then we're really stuffed."

You manage a smile, though it falls almost instantly.

"She wants us alone together," you remind him, hoping he'll understand your silent plea.

Sebastian shrugs. "If she comes back," he says without batting an eye, "I'll just kiss you."

Your cheeks heat. "It might not work a second time."

"Won't know until I try."

"Is this just an excuse to kiss me again?"

He sips his tea and winks. "You know I'd never turn down that opportunity."

You look away, cheeks burning. No. It was much too dangerous to want him in that way, not when at any moment she could take over, and...

You didn't want to imagine how bad it would be. You had to escape him. Now.

"We should start small," he says, as your gaze casts outwards, searching for something to distract him. "Can't kick thy enemy's arse until you know thy enemy's arse."