You Cannot Put a Fire Out // Sebastian Sallow [Book Three]

Chapter Fifteen: Rising to the Challenge

Back in Hogsmeade, with Thomas still perched on Sebastian's hip, his little belly content from the fish and chips they scarfed down on the long walk back to Tottenham Court Road, Sebastian thought it best to head to Anne and Ominis's house first. Unsure whether a boy of Thomas's age—whatever that may be—slept in a bed or a cot, he figured Anne would know the answer.

Anne had known the answer. "A bed, Sebastian," she snapped at him. "He's clearly not an infant."

What did she expect from him? He was new at this, whatever this was.

After Anne seemed to regain some composure from the shock of Sebastian's abridged tale—shaking her head and tugging at the scarf wrapped around her neck as he recounted everything, Thomas blinking sleepily up at her—she shared her own news: Damien and Rosie were back.

They had returned earlier that evening; Damien stopped by with Rosie in tow. As Ominis introduced Rosie to Leigh and Albert inside the house, Anne apparently brought Damien back outside where they had a painfully candid conversation.

Damien was astonished to hear that Sebastian had already informed Anne and Ominis of recent developments—Sebastian hoped Damien appreciated that it was one less thing for him to explain—but, alas, Anne admitted it hadn't diminished Damien's glaringly obvious feelings of confusion and betrayal. He didn't even attempt to reign in his emotions. Anne described him as deeply hurt, muttering about how Sebastian had broken his heart and that he wasn't even sure what had happened. Had Sebastian left him? Was Sebastian that unhappy? If Sebastian hadn't left him, what did he expect Damien was going to think? She topped it off with the recollection that Damien practically spit out, "How could Sebastian be so ignorant?"

Anne paused at that last bit, perhaps observing Sebastian's wince. He felt wretched, consumed by guilt. He had made a huge mistake. Would Damien forgive him? If he didn't, Sebastian figured he deserved it. Yes, deep down, he knew he deserved it.

"Damien was beside himself with worry," Anne went on, "especially after I mentioned that you were at the house. When he explained he'd already stopped by the house and you weren't there, his panic only escalated."

"I'm an idiot," Sebastian said quietly.

Anne sighed. "In this situation, yes, you were. Now go home and fix it." She extended her arms out. "The little one—Thomas, you said?—can stay with us tonight, while you sort things out with Damien."

At the mention of his name, Thomas glanced up at Sebastian with wide eyes.

"It's alright," Sebastian said. "This is your Auntie Anne."

"Auntie Anne," Thomas repeated. He tilted his head and smiled at her. His smile was crooked, just like Damien's, already a slight dimple forming below the apple of his right cheek, where his smile was widest.

Sebastian felt a flutter in his chest, something he'd never quite experienced before. It was as if a butterfly had settled itself inside him—strange, yet not unwelcome.

He shook his head as he transferred Thomas into Anne's arms. "Alright," he nodded, placing a hand on Thomas's tiny head and giving it a gentle pat. Thomas giggled. His eyes sparkled in the dull moonlight reflecting off the puddles lining the cobblestoned street. "You'll send an owl if he asks for me?"

Anne's expression softened. "Yes, Seb. Of course."

"Thank you."

So Sebastian trudged back home, swallowing a stubborn lump that had formed in his throat. He looked back over his shoulder—just once—but Anne and Thomas were already gone.

***

The moment he entered the house, Damien rushed out, shoving him out of the way, and slamming the door behind them.