entanglements | d.m.

40.minefield

December '98 | H E R

"Are we cuddling?"

Devyn doesn't move from her comfortable position, curled into his side while her legs drape over his lap. She is comfortable and has the best view of both the tv and her brother who they are babysitting.

Declan had an emergency work related call that he had to leave for early this morning and her mother left half and hour ago for the tailor she is working, promising it'll only be a handful of hours.

That Devyn would take the time to watch over Noah was a no brainer.

"Listen, ferret."

He gasps.

She smiles, tilting her head back to face him. "You know what's funny? It was my father who hexed you."

"Safe way to say he'd not approve of us cuddling."

Right. "You are a guy and I'm not above admitting that I'd rather lean against you, make you my personal pillow, you know," —she snuggles further into him, blame the snow sifting down outside— "than sit against the lame couch. If I must endure your presence, I might as well take full advantage."

That also may or may not include inviting him into her bed again later in the blanket of darkness where nothing really matters except getting a good night sleep. She's not trying to get used to it, grow dependant, but his consistent physical contact during sleep has alarmingly comforting effects.

If he takes away her weed, he might as well pay the price.

"Where is my advantage?"

"A snippy girl warming your lap." She grins before turning back to watch Kevin talk to himself while hiding under a bed. "Just how you like it."

He doesn't argue with her there, but he does give her thigh a little squeeze. They get wrapped up in the movie while Noah is making the biggest mess of the living room. So long as he has fun, she won't mind a bit.

It's a babel outside that demands Devyn's attention, finding the witches not far from her gate talking in high spirits, cackling at whatever gossip has reached their ears.

Then Devyn's gaze draws to the gate they are standing not far away from. She has simply ignored the notion so far, but right now, she imagines him standing there while she sat in here, worlds apart yet so darn close.

If only...

Granted, it was dark but she still asks, "How did I not see you?"

If only I had...

He follows her line of sight, his body tensing a bit as recognition sets in. "Well, for one, you had your tongue down another guy's throat."

She slaps his leg, glaring at his stoic face before looking out again. What would she have done

"Don't get in a mood over it," he says placatingly, rubbing his thumb right over her knee in comforting circles. "It's over and done."

Like we are?

He did go away, and now he's sitting here, and she is at a loss for reason. He makes no sense. Devyn doesn't believe anymore that he is doing this—doing her—for shits and giggles. She has meant something to him or else he wouldn't have taken so many blows in her name. Protecting this village must have not only cost a lot of power but had to have been a risk.

So he has her initials and bears a werewolf scratch and learnt one of the most complicated spells for her but after all that, he turned away.

Because I'm not enough. How many times, idiot?