per aspera ad astra

CHRYSON NOTT. XIX. THE STARS INCLINE US, THEY DO NOT BIND US.

[chrysons]

tangodancer1x1​:

Adira wrapped her arms tighter around Chryson as they began to disapparate, feeling his own arms pull her close. Her face gently rested against his chest, and just when the sensation, the pushing and squeezing was unbearable… it stopped. She took a sigh of relief as the cold Winter air hit her; it was over. Perhaps it was the months locked away in her mansion, but she never got used to how apparating felt. One thing she could get used to was being this close to Chryson, taking in the gentle warmth pooling from him. It felt spectacular, especially as a particularly strong gust of wind blew through. For a moment, she thought they could simply stay like that for a while, but as Chryson moved away, he reminded her of why they couldn’t. He didn’t see her that way, and by Merlin, she had to stop acting like this. She was a better woman than that. But, as he leaned forward and gently brushed her hair out of her face, she wondered if she truly was a good friend to him. The way his touch electrified her skin, even the slightest bit… 

She followed him as he wandered off, almost thankful for the lack of touch. It gave her room to think. She had to find some way to move on from Chryson with him living in her home. They had to be able to cohabitate; she needed to be his friend. Perhaps she’d try to owl Dominique for the first time in months for some advice, as childish as that seemed. She smiled softly as he held open the door for her, the warm scent of cinnamon and turmeric filling her senses. She wandered inside, feeling as the warm glow of the fluorescent lights bathed her body. She could see the Khuranas, father and son in the kitchen, mother manning the front desk, and the familiar sight of the family brought some life to her eyes. Mrs. Khurana always made her feel welcome. Ever since Chryson had moved in, they’d come at least once a week. “Merlin, I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” she mumbled to Chryson, moving towards the end of the small line of people waiting. “We never come here on a Friday.”

The sight of the small line had Chryson regretting his earlier decision to skip lunch. As he took his place behind Adira in line, he thought about her words. She was right-- he couldn't remember ever coming to this place on a Friday before. Still, even if he was hungry, he was glad to see business booming for the family that ran the restaurant. His stomach audibly growled; it was so loud that he was sure Adira could hear it, and Chryson flushed as he stifled a laugh.  "Neither did I. But they're usually quick, I'm sure the line will fly by." He scanned the room absentmindedly, hands coming to rest gently on Adira's shoulders in front of him as he looked around. Squeezing gently, he leaned in to speak softly into her ear. "Stay here, I'm going to go grab a menu. Maybe we can order something new along with the usual." He was back only a moment later, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. As they pored over the menu, Chryson pointing out potential additions and listening carefully to Adira's ideas, the line slipped away. Soon enough, they were at the front of the line.

Once the order was in, a small crowd waiting for their own orders had all but replaced the line. Chryson finally offered his hand to Adira, as he had wanted to coming in to the restaurant. This time it made sense; it would be easier to guide them both through the dozen or so people if they were together and couldn't be separated so easily. Any other thoughts that rumbled up to the surface were quickly stuffed back into the box where they belonged as the pair made their way to the back of the crowd and settled into a quiet conversation. Gradually, as names were called, the tiny restaurant began to clear out until it was just the two of them left with the Kharunas and the comforting smell of the food surrounding them. Chryson had barely noticed it all, so lost in the conversation that he didn't hear their order number being called until Mrs. Kharuna spoke again. "Mr. and Mrs. Nott?" Chryson jolted slightly at the words, suddenly all too aware of how empty the restuarant had gotten and how Adira's hand was still warm in his. "Your order is ready." Heart racing, Chryson swallowed and nodded, gently squeezing Adira's hand before letting go and collecting the bags from the counter, thanking Mrs. Kharuna before turning back to Adira, unsure if he should address any of it. "Shall we head home?"

[chrysons]

tangodancer1x1​:

Adira’s smile faltered as Chryson mentioned his father and his mother. Her own parents had been cruel in their own way, but her heart still ached when she remembered Atalia showing her the marks her father had left on her. Hearing about Chryson’s own… She’d never found it in her to hate someone, but if there was a person who she came closest to hating, it was Theodore Nott. “That’s a shame, about the hedge maze.” Daphne was a mystery to Adira. As much as she understood the nuance of a marriage like hers to Theodore, the idea of letting your own children fall prey to a sadistic ego-maniac wasn’t something she could forgive. Not now, anyways. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to fix it up, one day. Return it to its former glory… maybe you can give me a tour, then.” She could imagine spending a whole afternoon making her way through a new maze with Chryson. The scent of summer honeysuckle in the air… It sounded sweet.

She had always been a master of holding her cool in public, maintaining a smile and a casual attitude, but as Chryson pulled her in, she felt that resolve fading. She could remember the last time he’d held her like this–the last dance they’d had at Hogwarts. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was sure he could hear it, feel the nervous tremor in her hand. She felt a sharp pang as she remembered another fact–the last time he’d held her this close, they’d been dating. He’d not been able to touch her during their breakup, when he left her. But now they were close again, and she wanted to take in the little details. She could see the sapphire blue of his eyes, the color of their shared birthstone, little darker flecks hidden in them. His lips… Though she tried not to stare, she noted that they were the color of the Evening Primrose she’d sneakily grown towards the edge of their property when she was ten. As she looked up into his eyes, for a moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her. But then he spoke, breaking the illusion–they weren’t together. This was to go and get Indian Food. “Yeah,” she responded, a little breathless as she tried to force a small smile. “This is fine.” Gently, she pulled herself a little closer, trying to push down whatever self pity was rising within her. “Shall we?”

Chryson smiled hesitantly at the thought of returning to his old home and to his family. With the war, who knew what would be left for them after it was all said and done. As long as Theodore Nott was alive and pulling strings, Chryson wasn't sure he could ever fully go back. Worse, he wasn't sure he could ever fully escape. Still, the idea of an peaceful walk through the grounds of that house, hand in hand with Adira, was a hope he could see himself clinging to, even if none of it would ever be reality again. "I hope I do. And I promise if I do, you'll be the first to see." As she pulled herself closer, Chryson felt a calm settle over him, his arms wrapping just a bit tighter. It was almost as if he could feel her heart beating against his, the rhythms slowly falling into sync. He looked straight ahead, hoping she couldn't see his face as his eyes closed and he embraced the feeling of her. "Yeah. Let's go."

With that, they were off, everything squeezing them until Chryson could barely take it anymore. He pulled Adira closer, as close as she could be, and then suddenly there was hard ground beneath their feet again, the familiar cobblestone and brick walls of the alley near the Indian place. They were wrapped in a tight embrace, closer, Chryson was sure, than they had been since before they had broken up. It felt natural, and he was reluctant to let go, but he wouldn't take advantage of her like that. Even as he stepped back, dropping his arms, he couldn't help but reach out and brush some hair away from her face. For a moment, he almost offered her his hand. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed for the street, walking slowly enough that he knew she would be able to keep pace with him. He was silent for the short walk, half of him still stuck on the feeling of her in his arms. Before he knew it, the restaurant was in front of him. He opened the door for her and finally spoke, smiling gently at her. "After you."

[chrysons]

tangodancer1x1‌:

Adira was getting to a point where life before Chryson moved into Selwyn Manor with her seemed like the strange fever dream. The loneliness that had haunted her for weeks, the thoughts she’d been left alone with… it seemed like the darkest place she’d been in. Chryson, despite the circumstances, had brought the light back into her home, and the life back into her eyes. “You’re right,” she teased. “I do have better taste.” She was smiling, this bright grin that exaggerated the apples of her cheeks. Her face had looked so hollow when he’d moved in. Thanks to his, albeit hapless, efforts to try to cook for her and his encouragement to just eat what she craved, she looked less like the ghost he’d been greeted with and more like the woman he’d loved. Her coat, as she fixed it on her body, still tied a little tighter than it would have months ago, but she was nowhere near what she was alone. It didn’t help her ever-present feelings for him that he’d all but saved her life just by being there. Just by being himself.

“It’s lovely, really. The hedge maze outside has two great seasons–summer, when the roses bloom, and winter because of the snow.” Summertime at Selwyn Manor looked almost romantic, if she was being honest. Her late mother’s love of roses left the landscape outside a sea of red, and she was looking forward to sitting out there to watch the sun set at dusk, the warm lighting covering everything. It’d be the first summer she felt comfortable enough to lounge about. “Maybe I’ll finally take you through it, see what needs to be pruned back. Or maybe I’ll just get you lost.” She could easily do both, and as she walked over, slipping her feet into her boots, she wondered how good an idea it was. It was a tempting one–the maze didn’t really allow for two to walk side by side with much room. The narrow paths were much better suited for pairs to remain close. It had been a popular spot for couples to sneak away to when Augustus held balls at their estate. As she looked back at Chryson, his hand extended to her, she couldn’t help the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks. She hadn’t been lying when she said that side-along apparation made more sense, but the idea of being held by him made her heart race. “We shall, my lord,” she teased, trying to make light of the situation. She had to remind herself that they were just two friends apparating together in his eyes; she needed to calm herself down. She reached out, taking his hand gingerly in her own, and she found herself surprised by how steady her own grip was as she moved closer. He smelled warm and cozy, like the idea of home she’d never quite known, and the closer she was to him, the more she wished she could be this close more regularly.

He smiled at the thought of being in the hedge maze with Adira, sun—or maybe better, stars—shining above and warm air wrapping around both of them. He chuckled at the threat of getting lost among the rows; never making it back wouldn't be so bad, so long as he was lost with her. "As long as you're there to rescue me, getting lost wouldn't be too bad." Hedge mazes had appealed to him since he had found the barely hidden on at his own family's summer home, many years past. It had offered refuge for a whole day, the young boy tangled in roots and vines, blissfully and finally alone, until the sun had begun to set and hunger had gnawed through his resolve to stay there forever. It was just as well, he supposed, that no one but Atalia had noticed him missing. "I look forward to it." It was true, both for wandering the hedge maze and for getting lost with Adira. "We had one—have one, I suppose—at the summer house. I've never been too far in it, I don't think it's been touched in a couple decades. It's a little out of the way, so Mother let to slide and Father—well..." He trailed off. That failure had just been another excuse why Daphne wasn't good enough. It wasn't as if anyone but the Notts themselves ever visited that home; an overgrown hedge maze wouldn't have been the end of the world. "I've always liked the thought of them."

Steadying himself with a breath as Adira gripped his hand and confidently moved closer. Almost reflexively, Chryson's hand came to her hip, drawing her closer as if they were about to dance. They didn't need to be so close, he thought, but surely this would be safer. It took just about everything he had not to draw her in all the way, to hug her close enough that she could feel his heart racing, feel it rattling against his chest like a caged bird searching for any way to break free. She was close enough now for him to see the flecks in her eyes, to smell the unique floral scent clinging to her, close enough that he could close the distance between them in a single move. But he wouldn't. He'd settle for this, not crossing the line and ruining the lovely peace that had finally fallen between them in the months that they had been living together. He was so intent in staring at her, in extinguishing the inner debate that raged as he smiled down at her, that he had all but forgotten the reason they were so close together. It hit him eventually, a slow blink followed by a quick stab of hunger. "Is this alright?"

[chrysons]

tangodancer1x1‌:

For a moment, when Chryson called her darling, Adira forgot that they were merely teasing. For a split second, they were still together, just living in her parents’ house… and then their reality set back in. He wasn’t supposed to be her love, and she wasn’t his darling. She was his friend, and she was beyond grateful to be even that after the way their betrothal and subsequent relationship ended. “Merlin, I’m glad you have good taste.” She could remember some dinners at the Pucey household where the food was bland and lacked even salt. There was a bitter feeling that came with that memory of an old friend, but she tried to push it down. Chryson reached forward, touching her, and it was like a solid anchor brought her back down from her thoughts. “Of course. Can’t have you getting all those colorful sauces on your work clothes.” Especially that tie… Adira hated that she had favorites now, but the color of the fabric brought out his eyes so beautifully. It was embarrassing.

As Chryson moved into the room, she was once again taken by how comfortable this felt. Domestic, even, were they in love… which he wasn’t. She had to remind herself that. She was desperate to not ruin their situation, not when it might be the one way to hold onto someone she adored. Her eyes lingered on him as he took off his jacket… his blazer. It felt a little naughty, and she normally would’ve had the shame to turn the other way, but as she watched him loosen his tie, her mind traveled elsewhere. She couldn’t deny how badly she wanted to be the one loosening it, unbuttoning his shirt, letting her hands gently graze his skin. The sound of Chryson muttering pulled her from her daydream, and shame filled her as it should have moments ago. He was a dear friend living with her for his own safety, not for her to ogle when she had the chance. “Snow?” It’d been the first real word she gripped onto, and she managed to force a small smile on her lips. “I’d like that. Selwyn Manor actually looks approachable when it’s covered in a thick blanket of snow.” She pulled out her wand, muttering a charm to summon her favorite coat–a light blue wool one she’d gotten two years prior–and a matching hat to cover her hair. She set her wand down on the table beside her with the hat, slipping into the coat itself. The question came as she was buttoning it up. “–Sidealong makes the most sense, don’t you think?” she asked, moving to grab her hat. Fixing it atop her head, she walked over to the study door, where she’d had some boots lying around.

"I'm glad I have good taste too." He chuckled lightly, thinking back, as he was sure she was, to the endless rotation of bland meals that their pureblood families and family friends seem to enjoy far too much. "Kidding. You have far better taste than I do." He was happy to let her lead their food choices. Anything to see her eating, to see her smiling. The sight of her boots by the door reminded him of his own that he had removed by the front door. It was a nice change to shed them now, a far cry from things at his father's house. What had she been doing, he wondered, that the boots had ended up in the study as she read. He'd have to ask her later.

Half lost in his thoughts as he watched her, her words washed over him. Had he ever seen Selwyn Manor in the wintertime? Racking his brain, Chryson was coming up empty. For so long, the place had held nothing for him, had merely been something to avoid both in his head and in the real world. Now, it was everything—not the place, really, but the heart inside of it. He wanted to see it—see her—in every season. He would bet all he had that it would be beautiful. "I can't wait to see it." He murmured the words, almost as much to himself as to her. He was midway through summoning his own boots when she answered his question, and his throat went so dry that his voice almost cracked. It did make the most sense, she was completely right. He looked down, concentrating hard on the leather as he stuffed his feet into the boots and tried to think of anything but her in his arms, even if just for a second. "Right. I can apparate us." He hoped his calm smile covered up the sudden tightness in his chest as he looked back up a moment later. With only a second's hesitation he reached out, his heart beating faster and faster, and offered her his hand. "Shall we?"

[chrysons]

tangodancer1x1‌:

Adira opened the door a bit more as he moved closer, moving to lean against it as he stopped at the door frame. What they had at the moment was… comfortable. The distance didn’t hurt her like she thought it would when they’d first broken up. Perhaps that was just because it was the closest she’d allowed someone to her since locking herself back up in Selwyn Manor, or perhaps it was just because she thought he was comfortable. Both of them seemed to be coming more into their own with this new arrangement. He got away from his horrible father, and she had someone to keep her from going insane alone. “I know what day it is, Chrys,” she teased, soft smile playing on her lips. “Must’ve just been a good Friday.” She wouldn’t admit that she cherished him coming home on Fridays, too, because it meant they got to spend the weekend together. He’d broken up with her, making himself pretty clear. She wasn’t going to ruin that by admitting she was still in love with him.

Her eyes lit up as he asked about her book, moving from him to go into the study and grab it. “It’s amazing. It’s all about the expedition of the International Confederation of Wizards to cut back the Peruvian Vipertooth population back in the Nineteenth Century. I haven’t seen any book go into as much detail on it before.” She held the book in her hands, turning back to him as she walked towards the doorway again. It was only recently that she’d stopped apologizing for rambling about the things she loved to him; he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her talk about it. She paused in her footsteps at his offer, pretending to consider it for a moment. “I don’t know, Chryson,” she teased. “You see, I have so many plans for the evening. I don’t know if I can write you in, love.” She only kept up the act for a moment before she chuckled to herself, moving back to lean against the door. “Can we go back to that little Indian place in town? I’d kill for some Palak Paneer right about now.” She tried not to imagine how intimate a night winding down with some wine might feel with Chryson, her own desire to experience it overwhelming. She took him in for a moment, how he still looked handsome in his work clothes. “You want to get more comfortable first?”

Love. The word shouldn't have been love a shot to the heart and yet here they were. Chryson could feel his jaw clench—just for a moment—as he tried to let go of the word as easily as she seemed to be able to and focus on how happy she seemed instead talking about dragon history. "I'm glad you've got an evening free for me, darling," he teased her back, forcing himself to smile long enough for it to melt into the real thing as the sting of the nickname faded, "and I'm glad you're enjoying the book." At the mention of palak paneer, Chryson could feel his stomach rumble, surely loud enough for Adira to hear. Take out, wine, and time with Adira? He couldn't have asked for a better night. "That sounds perfect; I've been craving their dal makhani since the last time we had it." Touched at her consideration for his comfort, he reached out, gently brushing her arm and just barely squeezing her hand in thanks. "Not as much as I want Indian, but I do need to get rid of this tie and jacket."

Moving away from the door, finally, Chryson slipped into the room, shrugging off his wool overcoat to reveal the blazer underneath. He draped the jacket across a chair first, then the blazere, and then set to work on his tie. His hands moved without thinking, loosening the the knot enough so he could slip it over his head, undoing the top button of his shirt, the buttons on his sleeves. Finally, sleeves comfortably rolled up, Chryson pulled his wand from the pocket of his coat and, with a quick flick and a muttered charm, sent the tie and blazer off to his room. Donning the wool coat once again, Chryson grinned. "All ready. Where's your coat? It's cold outside. I think it might snow tonight." The restaurant was probably too far to walk at this time of year, but they would surely have to apparate into an alley nearby. "Are we doing side-along apparation or just going separately?"

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

Hey, I’m back. It was amazing how a few simple words could bring such a smile to Adira’s lips, despite the fact that she heard them almost every evening. Chryson had been living with her a little over a month, and she was certain that was the best choice she’d made in months, inviting him in. To get him away from his father, but also, in a way, to get her out of her own mind. She’d been a shell of herself when she’d begged him not to go back to Nott Manor, to another engagement he didn’t want, to that horrible man. Within weeks, she found herself slowly blossoming into something close to herself. Still, while her days were lonely and her fears crept back in, evenings had become a comfortable constant for the young woman. Chryson would come home, and the world felt righted within itself. Perhaps it was merely the company of someone she adored so much, and she knew that was part of it. The biggest part, however, was that, with him so close, there was no hiding how bad she’d gotten. So she did the tricky work and tried her best to be better. While most days she forgot her lunch, she did try to eat a small breakfast and always ate dinner with Chryson. 

Her cheeks, plumper now than they’d been when he moved in with her, turned rosy as she tried to temper her own excitement. Things weren’t perfect between the pair; there was still a lot left unsaid. But one thing could be said–this arrangement was better than either of them on their own. “In the study, Chrys!” she called out, though she was sure he knew where to find her. In the past month, she’d turned her father’s study into her own little den, spending some money to brighten the space up and make it feel less haunted. She put down her book–a new on on Dragon’s she’d managed to nab the last time she left the house–and moved towards the door of the study, peeking her head out in an attempt to catch sight of him before he came in. “You sound chipper.”

He’d already begun making his way toward her father’s study—no, her study—when he heard her voice confirming what he had already know deep down. It sounded light, had been getting lighter with each passing day since he’d moved in. It had been a small relief, among everything that had been happening to see the colour come back into her face and it gave him hope that perhaps things were beginning to look up for both of them. Rounding the corner to the hallway where the study was located, he spied Adira’s familiar face poking through the door, waiting for him and felt a wide smile force its way onto his face. As much as he tried to shove it back down, he couldn’t quite manage it entirely, the small smile lingering as he drew ever closer. Finally he reached her, leaning onto the door frame opposite where she stood and fighting the urge to reach out and pull her into an embrace. “It’s a Friday, of course I’m chipper.” The fact that he was coming home to her had nothing to do with it, of course.

His eyes swept over the room, taking in each little change, each little sign that it was slowly becoming Adira’s space and no one else’s, until his eyes fell onto the book on Dragons. Nodding toward it, he turned his eyes back to her. “How was your day? Was the book any good?” Had she eaten lunch? Maybe, but maybe not. Even though he’d started to make strides with his feeble attempts at cooking, Chryson was in the mood for something different tonight. There was a little Indian restaurant in the nearest town; what better way to celebrate the impending holidays than with a night off. “Want to get takeaway for dinner? We could have some wine, make a night of it.” It sounded like the perfect way to spend the night, curled up comfortably with good food, good wine, and, most importantly, Adira’s company.

[chrysons]

Holidays away from the Nott Manor were a strange concept for Chryson. For nearly twenty Christmases now, he had followed along the same stilted traditions, miserable every step of the way. Moving in with Adira had offered a new beginning, one far away from his father but still too uncomfortably close to all the baggage he would never be able to escape. Adira was a bright spot in it all, even if Chryson felt like things had seemed a little strange between them since the big move. 

The holidays had crept up unannounced, catching him unaware now that there was no more Hogwarts, no house elves to prepare the decorations while his mother drank and his father yelled. It was the bareness of the Selwyn Manor covered in a slight dusting of snow that really hammered the impending event home one chilly Friday evening as he arrived home from work. Shivering, he let himself into the house, making sure to announce his presence to not startle Adira with his sudden appearance before setting off to find her and propose a new, festive plan for the evening. “Hey, I’m back!” 

@missselwyn

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

It had been hard admitting any of that out loud to Chryson. For Adira, it was very brave, but she felt so weak doing it. Weak for letting things get to her like that. But here he was, this man she loved so dearly, telling her that she had every right to be afraid. That it was okay for her to not feel herself, and that he was there for her. The gesture itself was more than touching. She didn’t have to feel alone. He wasn’t judging her, not like Atalia had. He wasn’t enabling her like Rion sometimes did. He was just there, willing to be whatever she needed at the moment. Her heart fluttered, then soared. The whole situation felt so big, and everything felt like far too much. And so, she found that there was only one response she could have in this situation.

She cried.

“How could I turn you away?” It was the first thing out of her mouth the second she could find the words through her tears. She was trembling, her hand squeezing his as tightly as ever. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that she couldn’t have turned Chryson away. No matter what he did, he was always welcome in her home. In her heart. “ Chryson, I–” A soft hiccup disrupted her words. “I’ve missed you so, so much.” She found herself letting go of his hand, opting instead to rise and sit down next to him instead. She wasn’t steady, and she knew that, but all she wanted was to be closer to him. “Thank you.” The words left her mouth, and suddenly the crying was even harder as she thought through his offer. She fell next to him, her own shaking arms wrapping around him tightly, only able to repeat her thanks like a broken record. And, it was messed up, but a small smile formed in her lips through her tears. “Thank you.”

His arms came up around her shaking body, pulling her tighter against him as she sobbed. The sound of it was heart-wrenching; in all the time he'd known her, Chryson wasn't sure he'd ever heard Adira cry like this before. The lump rose in his throat and before he could help it, he felt tears welling in his own eyes. Swallowing hard, he reached up to stroke her hair gently, telling himself it was enough before giving in and gently pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Adira..." Words weren't escaping him now; there were so many things he could say, things he wanted to say, but he held it all in.

A few drops spilled over Chryson's eyes but he scrubbed them away quickly, looking up toward the ceiling until they stopped and he steadied his voice enough to speak without her noticing any difference. He would never dream of turning her away either; truth be told, there were still times he opened the door at home hoping to see her standing there. "Even if it was just me, you are so much braver than you know for opening up that door and facing your fears. As much as he didn't want to let her go, he knew he would have to eventually, whenever she was ready. "And I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere you don't want me to go." His hand curled into her shirt as he leaned his head to rest on the top of hers. For now though, they needed water and food, just as soon as she was ready.

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

Adira offered him a small smile at his words, squeezing his hand softly. Chryson Nott was still the same man she remembered, at least, she thought he was. The same man who’d made her feel comfortable inside of an arranged betrothal neither party had wanted a part in. “You should have.” Her words were useless, because she knew she wouldn’t have let him in. They’d needed their space apart, despite how badly she’d needed someone to help her through her darkest time. Still, she’d had Hannifan, who was better than nothing. “I know you would have, which is probably why I never sent them. I don’t think I was ready to face you.” She glanced down at her knees, a little ashamed of how honest that response was. She still wasn’t ready to face him, but she was trying. “I hardly have Atalia at this point. The letters just… faded. It was my fault, really.” And she’d yelled at Atalia when she was over the other day. She’d been so cruel, trying to protect her own secrets, and she could only hope she didn’t push away her almost-sister. She rolled her eyes slightly at his mention of the papers. It wasn’t that she was upset with him, but her name hadn’t been kept out of the papers regardless of her not having left her own house. “The papers are full of garbage.”

“Chryson, I–” Adira fought hard against her instincts to keep everything inside. To trust no one with her issues. Her own face gave away how far gone she was, gaunt and hollow. She felt like a shell of herself. “I’m doing really poorly, Chryson.” She wanted to retreat into herself and pretend, for once, that everything was fine. That she was perfectly normal, and coping with the death of her parents like Audelia had before. She felt tears well up in her eyes. “I’m so scared, but I’m scared all the time. It never goes away.” It felt odd, explaining how she was feeling sober. She’d done it a few times, drunk with Rion Hannifan in her wine cellar, but this was a different beast. Rion had no room to judge, but Chryson did, if he so chose. “Your sister thinks I’m paranoid, but I– Chryson, they’ve been in my house. They’ll come again. I know it.” She’s shaking softly, trying to push back tears that threatened to come. She wanted to be honest, but not like this. She was too tired to cry again in front of him. “I mean, look at me, Chryson. Really look at me. I’m not the girl you fell in love with.” She looked over at him, daring him to tell her she was wrong. That she was still the young girl with the dragon book. “I can’t sleep. I won’t eat. I can hardly open my front door without being paralyzed with fear.” She took a deep breath and pulled her hand away from his, her head falling into her hands. Merlin knew she was a broken woman at this point. As desperately as she tried to put the pieces back together, there was some comfort in her own suffering. But it wasn’t to be shared. “I don’t know myself anymore.”

It was a relief, in a way, hearing that she hadn't been ready to face him. How funny was it that even apart they could still feel so many of the same emotions for their situation. "Atalia would understand. She loves you." It wasn't exactly what he had wanted to say, but it was safe. I understand. I love you. Those words were too heavy, too much for him and not enough for her. They still seemed too hollow to say aloud for her, for fear they would fall flat, after everything. "Trust me, I know the papers are nothing but sensationalized trash." It had been a paper, after all, that had sent them on the road to where they were now.

The confession wasn't startling; he hadn't expected her to be doing well, though he hadn't expected her to be doing as poorly as she looked to be doing, as poorly as the pained confession would imply. "I understand." After all, he lived with his father, with a sword of fear constantly hanging over his head. It wasn't like this, was barely comparable, but still he understood the paranoia of constantly expecting the next bad thing to happen. He squeezed her hand back before loosening slightly, intertwining their fingers instead. "I wish I could promise you they won't." But he knew as well as she must that that would be just another empty promise added to the pile between them. He listened intently, finally obliging her request to look at her, eyes locking to hers and truly searching their depths, all the light and dark swirling together there. His free hand rose up to brush her cheek gently, to move a free strand of hair behind her ear, hoping the touch could say everything he wasn't sure his words would convey. "Adira... you're not her any more than I'm the boy who fell in love with you." Change was inevitable, the only guarantee even in good times. In war, change battered them like waves, barely giving a moment to catch their breath before plunging them into the water once more. It wasn't right, she wasn't okay, but words couldn't patch that. Only actions. "You've been through something terrible. It's okay to feel unsafe. It's okay to be a little bit broken. You changed, and you don't have to know yourself right away now. I can help in any way you want me. I'll cook you food, I'll stand guard if it would help you sleep. I am here, no matter what." A breath, then he continued. "You faced your fears to open the door for me."

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

Merlin, Adira felt like an imbecile. She was sitting so close to him, and yet she’d never felt farther away from him. She wondered if seeing him again had been a mistake. But then he started talking, and Adira couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.  I’ve missed you. Her heart dropped as heard those words. He was being honest, more honest than either of them were really used to. It felt like something being reborn, but also something being ripped apart. Any sort of former interaction with this man put aside, the young Ravenclaw, for once, had to take him at face value. He was hurting, he was missing her, and he was trying his hardest at the moment to actually communicate with her. While they’d been open with each other before, it was typically about anything but the other person. About easy things. She owed him the same kindness he was giving her at this moment–the truth.

“Chryson.” His name left Adira’s lip like some sort of broken prayer. None of this was how it should have been. She wants to tell him he didn’t mess any of this up. That, somehow, things were still going to be fine between them. “It’s so unfair,” she managed to get out. One of her hands fisted in her sweater, needing to grip onto something. “This wasn’t how we were supposed to end up.” It’s more of a confession than anything she’d mentioned before. There was a bitter, dark anger inside of her at the way things had turned out. Her life was nearly happy, almost perfect, and then everything had fallen to shambles, debilitating her in their wake. She pushes some of that anger down, not quite willing to open herself up that much, yet. “I wrote letters. Most of them were stupid, childish things. I never sent them.” She gave him a small, sad look. She felt so helpless around him, and yet, the sight of the man she loved before her was a comfort. Regardless of her wreckage, he didn’t seem to judge her. “I’ve missed you, too. I haven’t seen many people since returning home, though I wrote your sister for a while.” Why hadn’t she responded to his sister’s last owls? Why was she like this? “I–I didn’t want you to see me like this, so I asked Atalia about you.”

The sound of his name on her lips finally brought his eyes to her, searching her face for any sign that there was a bridge to be built between them. Unfair. It was such a perfect word to describe the situation. They had come so far, built something fragile but real from a hopelessly terrible situation, only to have it ripped away as it solidified and became something that they wanted instead of something that they couldn't avoid. It was not fair. They had both deserved better than a vengeful article and two fathers looking for any excuse to hurt their children, ripping them away from the only person that had truly understood them. Chryson had deserved better than being ripped away from the one he loved more than anyone else, deserved better than trying to hide that pain in any way he could.

He held out a hand, open, facing her, offering her an anchor to hold onto. So many opportunities to reach out had been squandered. "I used to dream about coming here and just talking for hours." He admitted. "I would have read your letters you know. And written back." It was only a small lie; deep down, he knew he would have written back, the part that wanted to hold on to her winning easily over whatever part the may have needed distance in order to survive the prospect of a life where they didn't end up together. "I'm sure they weren't stupid and childish, but I'm glad you had Atalia." He wished he had known that she had still cared enough to ask. Maybe then he would have asked too. "I kept an eye for you name in the papers. After..." He trailed off, knowing that she would know exactly what he meant without it being said. "Adira... You don't need to pretend to be okay for me to be here. If you're like this, I want to be here for you no matter what."

[chrysons]

nxttatty‌:

She smirked as he sat down, drawing her own cup toward her. Atalia was in good spirits, however nervous she was about telling her brother the news. Finally, she sat back and took her necklace off, sliding the ring off the chain and placing it on her finger. “Levi and I are engaged,” she said with a small smile. “Actually, we have been for a while, but we’ve kind of been keeping it under wraps.”

Chryson’s jaw dropped; he tried to pick it up quickly, but there was no use. Atalia had surely already seen his shock. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for them—he couldn’t have asked for someone better than Levi for his sister—his mind had just completely emptied and any capability of forming a sentence seemed to have left along with all his thoughts. It was such a reversal, Atalia getting married. It should have been him and Adira, and yet... It was funny and cruel how fate worked. He’d meant to say congratulations, say anything rather that just mutely stare. Gathering all his scattered brain cells, he opened his mouth to congratulate her. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

The room was suddenly colder as he let her go, but Adira still felt the warmth of his presence, his smile. Merlin, she’d missed his smile. He looked so much older than his years sometimes, when she looked him in the eyes. But when he smiled, it was like watching him remember how young he was. She only wished she felt as young as she really was, when all she felt lately was aged and helpless. Hushing her own thoughts as she tried not to spoil the moment with too much melancholy, she thought about reaching for his hand, but decided to keep her distance. “I was in the dining hall before this, but maybe we should sit in the parlor instead.” As fortune would have it, she didn’t need to reach out for Chryson, because he reached out for her. As she began walking, she tried to keep an even and easy pace, eager for the last little bit of touch to linger for as long as she could help it. As she passed the portraits of her ancestors, they seemed to be looking down on the pair in disgust. Tensing softly, she turned her gaze away from them, focusing on the dark and cold hallway before them. It wasn’t a much better sight, but at least marble couldn’t judge her.

Turning sharply into the parlor, she lost the hand on her back, and was faced with the sight of at least six empty bottles of wine, surrounded by two half-filled and a bottle of whiskey from when Rion had been over three nights prior. That bottle was mostly-empty. “Sorry for the mess,” she said meekly, ashamed and embarrassed to have brought Chryson into that room. Surely he knew she was a bit of a mess, but did he really need to see this? Her cheeks flushed a bright red, and she found she couldn’t look at the man beside her. Quickly, she managed to rush inside and grab at least four of the bottles and magic them away, before turning to catch his gaze and stopping. What was the point? Her mildly decent mood destroyed, she moved to sit down on the couch, just then noticing how dark the room was without the fire’s glow.

“I–erm–” Suddenly, and for the first time in a while, Adira didn’t quite know what to say. They were supposed to catch up, and she wanted to, but found that all sense of words had left her. She used to be able to speak so freely around Chryson, at least, freer than she normally could. Look at me now. It was near frustrating. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not for them. They were supposed to be happy. Both of them. The pair were supposed to be in love; they were supposed to be together. Being with him before all of this had fallen apart had been as easy as breathing. Now, the dramatic reunion all said and done, she found herself struggling to face him. The pause was thick between them, yet another barrier she was setting up for herself like a bloody idiot. Desperate to fill the empty space, she managed to spit out a few words. “Do you want some water?” A wine bottle, third on the table before her, was half-empty. “Or some wine?”

It seemed a thousand eyes were fixed upon them as the pair made their way to Adira’s parlor, Chryson keeping his hand glued to the blonde beside him, hoping to offer some warmth in the dark of the mausoleum that surrounded them. The parlor greeted them coldly, Adira slipping away from his touch. Chryson shoved his hands into his pockets and surveyed the sight in front of him. Half empty bottles glinted in the low light; Chryson counted them quickly as Adira rushed to hide it all, hitting seven before he lost sight of what she had grabbed. There had been more than that, he was nearly certain, and his stomach dropped as he processed it. He had been there before, more than once, had gotten so lost that there was nowhere to go but to sink down to the bottom of a bottle and hope to forget. Anything he could say in that moment would sound hypocritical, so he instead grabbed his wand, reaching out to touch Adira’s shoulder as he vanished more of them.

The silence sprawled between them, filling the room and all but swallowing them. The chasm widening once again, Chryson could do nothing but look around, unable to make eye contact without seeing what could have been—a much different tableau than what lay before them. It was all so easy to imagine, the two of them sharing the wine by moonlight, lost in some twisted conversation until the sun began to peak through the windows, but even easier to imagine the truth, Adira there by herself, moving through wine like it was water, not sleeping as day turned into night into day. Her voice broke through the reverie, shattering it even though he hadn’t quite picked up the words. “I’m fine.” He could tell she was struggling as much as him to say something, say anything, to break the ice. All he could think was the truth—that he wasn’t sure exactly what to say. It wouldn’t be a new concept between them, the truth, but maybe a refreshing one. Maybe the start of something new. “You know, I had a whole speech planned out when I came here, but now that I’m here, my mind is blank.” He took a deep breath. “I missed you, and I feel like I’ve messed something up between us because of everything that happened. I know it’s foolish to expect things to be the same, because they’re not, but...” He trailed off, words finally deserting him completely.

[chrysons]

nxttatty‌:

As soon as they stepped into the cafe, she looked for the most secluded table. Chryson asking what she wanted brought her back to the conversation. “Hot cocoa.” Atalia pat his shoulder before moving to the table near the back. She made herself comfortable while she waited for her brother, placing her jacket over the back of the chair. “Now, make yourself comfortable and give me your attention, dear brother.”

Raising an eyebrow, Chryson calmly let Atalia boss him around, curious what had her in such a commanding mood. It was nice to see her like this, to be able to pretend for a while that everything was normal. “Demanding.” He joked as he set his coffee down on the table and slipped his own jacket off, draping it over the back of his chair. Settling down, he leaned back in the chair and took a long sip of bitter coffee. “I’m all yours.”

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

Adira wanted to desperately for him to be near, to hold him close and feel some kind of warmth against her skin. As of late, all she’d felt was the cold interior of that cold Manor. However, there was no way she could approach him without showing him how much of a frightened mess she was. It was childlike. To her great surprise, she didn’t need to, as he moved in to meet her where she was comfortable. Her heart swelled, and, while she didn’t know what to do with it, she was glad that the space between them had decreased. It was what they deserved.

“I was called into the Headmaster’s office and “ She paused, trying to remain stoic and not cry. It wasn’t that she missed her parents, nor did she have to. Their effect on the house and on herself lingered long after they had passed. But the memory, the images she recalled from that night, were so repulsive and vile that they shocked her to her very core. “It was my own fault, Chryson. I asked to see them.” A small part of her was still convinced that this was part of some elaborate scheme. That her father was still toying with her mind, and was waiting until she finally found herself to come waltzing back into the scene to steal her life away again. “Now I have to live with what I saw.” The aurors had been no help to her troubled mind, regardless of how frequently they had come by when she’d first returned home. They had only scared her, made her paranoid that they would see her Dark Mark and lock her away forever. “They weren’t just killed, Chryson. The Blood Thieves–” she explained, finding it hard to even use the name for her parents’ killers. “–They had the nerve to play with them after. Prop them up like dolls. Merlin, it was–” Horrific. Vile. She took a shaky breath, the sentence dropped as she could not continue.

Being near Chryson was so easy, like returning to one of her favorite books. Her own arms looped around him as they drew each other close, her resting her head against his chest. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she, unable to control them nor wanting to anymore, let them fall with soft droplets onto his shirt. She had been so scared that, after their breakup, they would never really get back to speaking again. To the level of intimacy that had near saved her life. She stayed like that, near silent aside from the soft sounds of crying, for a moment, unsure whether she were happy or sad. Perhaps, in this case, she was both. Taking a deep breath, she pulled away from his chest, but not out of his arms, giving him a soft, hopeful smile. She loved him, dangerously so. “Do you think we could just stay here for a bit? I don’t–” I don’t think any part of me, no matter how glad I am, is ready to face the world right now. “I think we should catch up.”

His breath hitched, then stopped altogether as the tale unfolded, every last sordid detail pouring out, filling the air between them. He could picture it all, the thought of it burning into his mind. Adira—his Adira—surrounded by blood, her parents splayed like puppets across the dining room that he’d had the misfortune of seeing more than a few times in his life. It was scarring; it must have been unforgettable. And yet she had asked, wanted the closure. He was still processing it all as he voice dropped off into silence once more.

Chryson was taken aback as Adira hugged him back, drawing closer and narrowing the distance that had lingered between them, both physical and otherwise. It took only a second before he melted fully into the embrace, drawing her in as she tightened her grip on him and rested her head on his chest. He moved without thinking, his own head dropping to lean on hers, their bodies fitting together like they belonged—like they had never been apart. “I’m sorry.” He whispered the words into the silence, unsure what exactly it was that he was apologizing for—her parents’ deaths, the sight of their bodies, the violation of her house and the fear he was sure she felt, just like his family, whenever an auror was too near. Mostly, he thought, he was apologizing again for the fact that he hadn’t been there for any of it. As the silence draped over them again, time seemed to slow, and Chryson could have stayed there with Adira enveloping all his senses. But the spell broke as she pulled away.

As she moved, Chryson was nearly overwhelmed by a sense of loss, but the fear that the moment between them wouldn’t last was soothed as she stopped moving, looking up at him while still wrapped in his arms, still too gaunt and tired but looking somehow ever so slightly different than she had before. He words brought a smile to his lips. Truth be told, he could have stayed there forever, exactly like that, but that wasn’t what she was asking. “Of course we can.” He didn’t hesitate as he answered, though he was hesitant to let her go. “Whatever you want.” He wouldn’t push her, not until she was ready. He was just glad to be there, be with her. Reluctantly, he let her go, slowly dropping his arms from around her. Wanting to keep contact somehow, he nearly reached for her hand, but settled instead for her back. “Let’s catch up.”

[chrysons]

nxttatty‌:

She ignored his look around the street, knowing that if she thought too much about it, she had have to face the thought of everything looming around them. Atalia shoot the thought from her head and smiled softly, tilting her head in the direction of the coffee shop. “Well, it just so happens that I have plenty I need to tell you, so you can sit there and listen.”

Ah, so there it was, Chryson thought to himself, a small smile flickering on his lips. “Oh you do, do you? It’s a good thing I’m good at listening.” Placing a hand on Atalia’s arm, he squeezed gently, reassuringly, and headed in the direction of the coffee shop. “It’s on me today,” he glanced to his sister, pulling out his wallet. “I’ll have a large coffee. Black.” He informed the barista before turning fully to the other blonde. “What do you want?”

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

Adira felt her heart swell as she watched him, awakening a small part of herself that she’d desperately tried to forget exists. She loves this man. Merlin, she simply adores him. And to have the honor of him coming back to her, apologizing to her, was something more than she could really take at the moment. It was pulling at her, pulling her towards him, desperate to be close. However, as she neared the threshold of the house, she paused, rigid and uncomfortable in the motion. She wasn’t ready to face the world, but maybe she was ready to face him.

I’m sorry about your parents. She’d nearly forgotten how lonely those last few weeks at Hogwarts had been without him. Without anyone. No one had really known how to approach her, not after the way her parents had been massacred. Not after how public the whole affair had been made. Not after she was made the sole heiress to a fortune she had no idea what to do with, the sole owner of a manor she hardly wanted to stay in. But it was her’s, and she’d be damned if she let anyone take it from her. The last remnants of her normal life, regardless of how horrible it had been. Now here she was, losing her own mind, still alone. “Do you know I was allowed to see them that night?” she asked, genuinely curious if he’d heard that part of the rumor mill back at school.

“I’m not going to say that I don’t wish you’d been there.” That someone had been there. That he had never left in the first place, so she’d maybe had someone who was fiercely supportive of her. It was something she missed about Chryson’s presence in general. “But I’m not going to pretend like you owed me your time. This is a war, Chryson. You had your own things to deal with.” She caught his gaze and felt her heart yearning, reaching for him. He was within reach, and he was ready to be here for her now. And, regardless of her inherent skepticism as of it, she trusted him. She wanted him back in her life. “And I’ve missed you dearly.” She took in a sharp breath, trying to stop tears from prickling at her eyes. “And I want you in my life, Chryson. No matter what. Please, you have to know that.”

Chryson didn’t miss the pause as Adira came closer, though he wasn’t sure if it was him and their close proximity that had caused it or if it was the threshold. Where he stood, the door was the only thing left in between them, him on the outside and her on the inside. Taking a deep breath, the blond inched closer, eyeing the door and the girl, each little step bringing him closer to her, closer to the inner sanctum of the violated house. Steeling himself, Chryson stepped inside, not wanting to force Adira out if she didn’t want.

Her words stopped him dead in his tracks. He hadn’t known—Merlin, he hadn’t. If he had, he never would have stayed away so long, would have been the at his first opportunity, consequences and feelings be damned. He steadied his voice, forcing it to stay calm and even a not betray an ounce of the worry or horror that the image of Adira seeing the bloodied bodies of her parents conjured within him. “No. No one told me. My father—he didn’t say that.” Another breath, another moment to calm the waver that was only seconds away from worming into his voice. Before this war, death had always been clean; his grandfather, cool and still in a sleek wooden box. It was how he had expected it to be, how he had expected to say goodbye to his own father, feeling nothing all the while. The war had changed it all, given him the sweet, bitter taste of his own death, the horror of others... Yet still, he couldn’t imagine the feelings Adira must have had looking down upon those bodies. “I had no idea you... That you saw them.”

 She was within reach now, easily, and Chryson found himself slipping his hands into his pockets, holding the space between them. The words falling from Adira’s mouth had Chryson’s heart beating faster and faster. She wanted him in her life. She wanted him, despite everything, just as he wanted her. Spurred forward, Chryson wasn’t even aware he was moving until his arms were gently wrapping around Adira, pulling her close. “I’m not here because I feel like I owe you my time. I’m here because I—” love you. “I want you in my life too. So much. And I needed you to know that too, even if it was just me turning up on your doorstep and luring you out for food.”

[chrysons]

missselwyn‌:

”Excuse me?” It wasn’t a rejection, not cruel nor cold. Adira was merely confused and her brain was trying to rapidly wrap her mind around the situation. The last time she had spoken to Chryson, she was a truly different person. And he was breaking up with her. Now, months later, he was asking her out for dinner. Was this a date? If so, why now? She could hardly fathom the thought of stepping beyond her threshold to greet him properly, let alone leave with him and be seen in public. Was she even slightly the girl he once knew?

No, of course not. He’d seen how her appearance had changed, how haggard and grotesque she looked compared to the beauty he’d been able to know. Her’s had been a carefully curated look, enticing yet pure. Innocent, but with allure. It had been mostly her mother’s doing, but something she’d grown quite attached to. And now, watching him watching her, she knew he saw death. Her parents hadn’t been the only ones that died that night. Her spirit and dignity, and nearly her sanity, had fallen, along with her looks. How could she leave the house looking like she did?

“Is this a joke?” Again, she was merely confused. She hardly had the strength to be angry and upset about the implications that thought should have held, mostly just curious to his response. There was a part of her that wanted desperately for him to be serious, for him to really want to take her out. But, at the same time, she couldn’t just leave. One hand, hiding slightly behind her back, was trembling, frightened by this new but familiar visitor. “Chryson, what’s going on?”

The first words from Adira’s mouth all but stopped Chryson’s heart. He’d made a mistake. It had been too long, there was too much distance between them. After everything, he’d had no idea how to navigate their new reality and had pulled away. Even after her parents had died, he’d said nothing, unsure of what to say anymore. No words would have seemed right, seemed enough, to fill what he wanted to say to her. The silence between them stretched on, the look in Adira’s eyes unreadable, and all Chryson could do was hang on to his last bit of dignity and ride out the waves of whatever was to come.

Is this a joke. No, of course it wasn’t. “Merlin, I’m sorry.” He let out a breath. “It’s not, that’s not what I came here to say.” He tried to explain himself as well as he could, floundering as it suddenly became far too difficult to breathe. “I came to see how you were, and...” He didn’t want to say it, didn’t point out that she didn’t look okay, that just the sight of her had him almost as frightened as he had ever been in his life. But he couldn’t do it, couldn’t say that. He was sure she knew.

“To be honest, I haven’t left my house in far too long.” This was the truth; save for work, his excursions to Knockturn, and his cocoa with Atalia, it had been far too long since Chryson had been out in the world. “I wasn’t sure where else to go.” This was not. There were many reasons he had sought Adira out, but the most pressing had been the feeling laying there under the worry and uncertainty; the soothing calmness that had worked its way deep into his soul the second he had seen her, no matter what she looked like. “It’s been so long since we talked, and... And I thought it might be time to change that. I’m sorry about your parents. I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible friend. Can I change that?” Or is it too late?