Under Your Scars || Sebastian Sallow x MC

Chapter 54 - Language of Love

And for once you let go, Of your Fears and your ghosts

One step, not much, But it said enough

You kiss on sidewalks, You fight and you talk

One night he wakes, Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says, You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

You Are In Love

-Taylor Swift

____________

Sebastian POV

I awoke alone on Christmas Eve morning. I stretched an arm out to my side. The bed was cold, long devoid of Juliette's warmth.

Confused, I fumbled around for my pocket watch and glasses on the nightstand. I found the time to be 10 am, much later than I have ever slept. Next to my watch, was a note scrawled on parchment:

Seb,

Heading home to get a start on dinner. When Rose is up, take the floo to Victoria Street, Edinburgh. My townhome is the white one with a red door. Please knock three times. 

Love,

Your Jules

My gaze lingered on that little four-letter word at the end of her letter. Images and sounds of our post-yule-ball activities replayed in my mind.

I told her I loved her last night.

In a post-sex haze, I had whispered that I loved her.

And she had yet to say it back.

She had acted normal on our walk back to the faculty tower, like nothing was amiss. It was as if I had not just finally confessed my feelings after eight years of pining for this woman. I had said it in French, too, thinking that would make it more special and romantic for her.

Perhaps I had said it wrong?

Or perhaps she did not feel the same way.

I forced myself not to overthink it. I would surely have some time alone with her tonight, I could try again. Additionally, if I managed to find her the gift, I would need to hear that word from her lips before giving it to her.

It was the proper order of things.

Miss Corben did not emerge from the Undercroft until nearly noon.

I decided it would be best not to ask questions, though I did conjure a silk scarf for her. She accepted it without a word, hastily wrapping it around her neck to cover the ample love-bites left by a certain Ravenclaw.

Rose asked for more time to change and we reconvened by the Faculty Tower floo flames. We both had opted to wear Slytherin-green, and she kept the silk scarf securely fastened around her neck. A fistful of powder each, and we were off.

The first sound Rosalie and I heard upon arriving at Juliette's doorstep was a loud crash followed by a string of French profanity.

Rose and I eyed each other apprehensively before knocking three times. We were sure we had found the right place. How many French women could possibly be living on this street? Still, we were unsure of what horrors would be waiting for us inside.