Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
—
4584 words
i'm bored comment ur fics i wanna read
—
I end up leaving the Thanksgiving feast early.
It wasn't that the roast beef and roast chicken, boiled and roasted potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, and gravy weren't enticing me. In fact, I'd been looking forward to the meal all day. How the House-elves are still making such food even under the Death Eaters' control, I'll never understand.
But I end up leaving early because Celeste does.
For the twenty minutes she does stay, she barely touches her food. I've noticed since she's been back that she's almost entirely lost her appetite. She barely eats at every meal, and when I asked her about it, she admitted to me that she's been getting nauseous if she ever has more.
We haven't talked much more in the past month about what I know — what she still thinks I don't. I was angry when I first read the letter and realized. I was angry that she never told me, that she likely was never planning to. I was especially angry that she is slipping away from me, and there is quite literally nothing I can do about it.
Then the anger subsided when I realized just how angry she must be at the ill slice of fate she's been served.
Any time I try to give the opportunity to tell me, she just shuts down. It's frustrating, but I can't even blame her — I'd do the same. I don't know how much to push or not, what would just push her away. The most I've gotten out of her is admitting that she wasn't in France, but in fact in a coma. She still won't say why.
When I return to the dungeons, I can see her silhouette sitting on the sofa by the fire. She hasn't noticed me yet, busy reading a book. I have half a mind to scold her for reading in mere firelight, that wearing glasses won't stop her eyes from straining, but I just walk over quietly and sit beside her.
"Hi," she says without looking up from her book.
"What are you doing here?" I ask with a crisp exhale, stretching my legs out to prop my feet up on the coffee table. I fold my arms behind my head, turning my gaze to where her glasses are slipping down her nose.
Celeste scoffs. "Reading, obviously."
"You know that's not what I meant. Why did you leave the feast?"
