How to Make a... Future | Sebastian Sallow x F!OC| One Shot Collection

Here Comes The Sun

Sebastian Sallow had landed himself in a predicament so dire that despite applying every ounce of his impressive mental facilities to finding a solution, only two viable options were clear to him: he could fake an illness and flee back to Scotland, or he could throw himself off the cliff he was presently stood atop and drown in the Mediterranean Sea below.

Unfortunately, as an apprentice Healer and a rather magically adept wizard, there weren't many illnesses he couldn't cure with a wave of his wand or a well-brewed potion (unless cheese poisoning was a thing, in which case, the French were most certainly trying to kill him and death was imminent), and cliff diving was... well, perhaps a little extreme.

Still, the desire to distract himself by doing something impulsive was as deeply ingrained in him as were his freckles or his untamable brown curls; brashness was a Sallow trait, one his father had possessed in spades and one which, as much as he'd like to believe otherwise, he was very likely to pass onto his children one day — if he lived long enough to father them, that is.

Sebastian's stomach twisted into nervous knots as he picked his way along the cliff side, and he wondered vaguely whether the pain au chocolate he'd eaten for breakfast might just kill him yet. He was grateful that the sun had yet to rise; cloaked in purple twilight, his racing pulse, wobbly knees and shaky fingers were hard to spot, but soon the horizon would turn golden, and the morning sun would blaze across the ocean to illuminate his panicked state in acute clarity.

And when that moment finally arrived, he'd have nowhere left to hide.

'Come on, Sebastian, we're going to miss it!' Aurélie's gentle voice pulled him back from the precipice of both the rocky cliff and his internal implosion. Her accent was stronger after almost a month in France, but her hand on his elbow was as familiar as it had always been; a small, warm anchor that, under normal circumstances, was the only thing that kept his feet on the ground and his anxious thoughts under control.

But today was not normal. Today was different.

With a deep, steadying breath, Sebastian touched the small box concealed in his pocket, wiped his clammy hands on his trousers, then turned to face the girl whose presence in his life was as brilliant and warm as the sun itself.

'And whose fault will that be if we do?' Though he longed to touch her, he knew that if he drew her against him now, he'd have to explain why something as benevolent as a sunrise was making his heart smash like fucking mad against his ribcage. Except, of course, it wasn't the sunrise that was inducing a panic attack, but what the dawning of it symbolised.

'It'll be your fault, of course.' Aurélie grinned at him over her shoulder, her long red hair dancing in the warm ocean breeze. He stumbled along in her wake, wondering how in the name of Merlin's old knickerbockers he'd ever lived a day in his life before her.

'Mine?' he said, feigning innocence. 

'Yes, yours!' she laughed. 'You with your "just one more kiss before we get out of bed". It's never just one more kiss with you, and now we're going to miss the sunrise. Again.'

Sebastian's nerves lightened just enough to allow a single, strangled chuckle to escape him. 'You weren't complaining about my kisses an hour ago,' he teased, resisting the urge to scoop her up and march them right back to the bed they'd gotten very little sleep in the night before.

From the outside looking in, there was nothing to suggest that Sebastian was anything less than deliriously, perfectly happy. And for the most part, he was; after all, a month-long holiday in France with the love of his life was hardly a burden to bear, but darkness and doubt had a way of dulling even the brightest days of his life.

His anxieties didn't stem from their daily consumption of cheese and wine though, nor the blissful halcyon days spent exploring the south of France, strolling hand in hand through tiny seaside villages, kissing melted ice cream off each other's faces; no, his dire predicament lay in the small velvet box he'd been carrying around in his pocket and how foolish he'd been to believe that bringing it to France was a good idea.

Because love, in all its warm, healing glory, wasn't meant for him - not after all the pain he'd caused, the unforgivable mistakes he'd made; not for someone whose soul was torn and whose hands were stained with blood that would never wash clean. And yet, like the stubborn twit he was, he stumbled after it like a man starved, his hands outstretched, clawing at the air for scraps of happiness he didn't deserve.

Sebastian had always lived in the darkness; why should that change now?

By the time they reached their destination - a little stone bench overlooking the vast ocean - the horizon beyond was just beginning to lighten, and the birds were rising, jubilant and carefree, and had it not been for the adrenaline flooding every cell in his body, all would have been perfectly right with the world.

Unfortunately, nothing was right with the world because Sebastian had really fucked up this time. What a prat he was to presume she would choose him out of literally anybody else on the planet.

She, like fire.

She, like the sun.

She, whose smile was triumphant as she eyed the luminescent horizon with bated breath and bright eyes.

'We made it!' Her excitement was palpable, but Sebastian's mouth was too dry to echo the sentiment; all he could do was hitch a stiff approximation of happiness onto his face and watch on as the moment of truth raced toward him, as unstoppable as the rising sun itself.

The weight of the small innocuous box in his pocket grew heavier.

His palms grew sweatier.

Bloody fucking hell.

Bloody fucking hell.

How utterly absurd to think that he'd once delved headlong into the Dark Arts without so much as a backwards glance, yet couldn't muster the courage now to look his girlfriend in the face.

Don't be such a fucking knobhead, Sallow. It's now or never.

Aurélie tugged on his sleeve, her face a picture of such unrestrained joy that it made his heart clench and expand. How could she ever be his? How could she ever agree to this?

'Here it comes!' she sang, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 'Here comes the sun!'

But Sebastian wasn't looking at the sun.

He steeled himself. Felt into his pocket. Fumbled with the velvet box. Tried not to throw up. But when the sun crested the horizon, clarity blazed along with it, and his entire future lit up in her eyes.

'Aura' - he cleared his throat - 'Aurélie, I...'

The words scraped up his throat like sandpaper. He swallowed once. Swallowed again. Aurélie's gaze turned to him, expectant, patient, full of all the love he wasn't worthy of receiving.

He couldn't bear to look.

'My Aurélie...'

His hands shook so badly he had to fumble around in his pocket for several thousand years to extract the velvet box, but finally, when he handed it over, struck dumb with terror, she took it with a steady grip, tentatively opened the lid and said -

'Oh.'

Oh? Oh? What the fuck was oh?

If Sebastian were able to move, he'd have thrown himself over the cliff right then and there, but instead, he stood frozen to the spot while the enigmatic oh stretched on for all eternity and beyond.

'I know I don't deserve you,' he tried. 'But...' Bloody fucking bloody hell. 'But, I...'

Aurélie gingerly lifted the ring from its satin cushioning. The sunlight caught the flash of blue sapphire, a stone he'd chosen to match her eyes.

And then she smiled, sun-drenched.

'Sebastian!' She laughed aloud as the first rays of aurelian dawn gilded her hair, her face, her eyes; an incandescent vision of beauty so vivid it paled the sun. 'It's been a whole month, I thought you were never going to ask!'