Summary: When Sebastian first broke her heart at Hogwarts, Y/N swore off becoming attached to anyone ever again. Now, years later, Sebastian is a professional Quidditch player and she's a renowned physician. When Sebastian breaks his wrist during a match, he turns to her for help. Though she's the one who can mend his broken body, he's determined to mend her heart.
A/N: Huge thank you to @barnabyjr and @cheywritesfanfics for helping by beta reading and brainstorming with me! Love you both <3
Themes: One-sided enemies to lovers; Fake Dating; eventual smut
Sebastian’s POV
In the quiet hours before dawn he sat, contemplating his choices. This was typical of Sebastian, his mind seldom giving him a quiet moment. While he often seemed impulsive, the truth remained shrouded in layers of increasing complexity. It was certainly true that he ran into situations without thinking them fully through before taking the first movements, but it seemed that he was cursed to consider them afterwards, turning them over in his mind until the thoughts were as smoothed as a river-worn stone.
This morning was no exception. No quidditch game day ever did seem to be. What was he doing with his life, he would ask himself as he rolled out of bed far too early, chased out by the nightmares that made the simple act of sleeping seem unsafe. He would ask himself again as he splashed water on his face and moved through the required motions of waking. He would consider it more heavily as he sat at his counter, the caffeine from his now-cold dregs of coffee working their domestic magic.
He told himself that at this point it was simply a pre-game ritual, reminding himself why all of this was so important. It wasn’t very Slytherin-like to have to talk himself into being ambitious, he was fully aware. But regardless he tried.
Today felt easier than usual, and although he didn’t want to admit it, the most likely culprit was you. The simple knowledge that you were going to be there, watching him, perhaps even judging him with the clinical precision you could never completely shake, was like a jolt of adrenaline through his blood stream. The sight of you in the stands, something he hadn’t experienced since his Hogwarts’ days, was already playing in his mind. Today he had a tangible reason to do well, no need to plead with himself, remind himself of why he was doing all of this. Of why this was his only option.
“Only a few more years,” he had said like a prayer before each game, head dipped. “Only a few more years and then I can live exactly like I want to.” The taste lingered on his tongue now, the bite of ocean air laced with salt. The feeling of grass biting at his ankles, his only companion the clear sky, nearly periwinkle blue over head. Soon he wouldn’t need to resign himself to summers and few rushed weekend trips to field locations. Soon he could spend as long as he wanted pressed between the book shelves of libraries of old, spending countless hours reading in the hope of finally unraveling the mystery of dark magic a bit farther.
Today, there was no conversation with himself, no rehashing of purpose. Today, his only focus was you.
As the light began to crawl its way through the cracks in the curtain and onto the counter before him, Sebastian finally shifted. He had spent enough time lost in his head this morning to last a week. He had a pitch to get to.
Your POV
You found yourself standing in front of the mirror once again. It seemed to be one of your favorite places as of late. You were wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve white shirt. Perhaps a bit simple, yes, but you weren’t really sure what else would go with the sweater that Sebastian had loaned you. You really needed to add more green to your closet if this was going to become a run-of-the-mill outing for you.
You had waited to pull on the sweater until the absolute last moment you could. Despite your feeble attempts to keep reminding yourself that it was simply an article of clothing, your treacherous brain kept insisting that it was something more. Like the instant that you pulled it on, donned it and showed it to the world, that this somehow would all be real. That your relationship with Sebastian would be real, at least on your end. At that point, the only person you would be lying to would be yourself.
You let out a sigh, trying your best to trace the root of your nerves. Sure, this whole experience had worn on you thus far, but you could never admit that out loud. You had become so practiced at pretending throughout your life.
Pretending you were a normal child, when the strangest things kept occurring with no explanation.
Pretending you were a typical student when you joined Hogwarts in your fifth year.
Pretending you were fine when you lost Sebastian and Professor Fig within a 1 month span.
Pretending you were prepared to be an adult when you graduated, despite having just started to feel like you had found your footing at Hogwarts, right before it was all yanked away.
Pretending you were a better doctor, a caring one, an intelligent one, one who could cope with the emotional free-fall your career seemed to encourage.
So why was pretending to be in a relationship proving to be so difficult? Why did you struggle to keep your emotions under check?
You could reasonably blame it on pressure. Agatha had emailed you the night prior, with a ‘friendly’ reminder of how much today mattered for appearances.You and Sebastian had been photographed together, sure, but this day would be different. There would be cameras everywhere. Practically everyone would know who you are. Today your performance would have to be flawless to keep up the ruse. Your job practically depended on it.
A part of you, perhaps a bitter one, hoped that Sebastian was feeling the same way. It may have been harsh, but it seemed more likely now, that he was more anxiety-ridden than he let on. The existence and subsequent acknowledgement of his nightmares had broken something within you. It was now impossible to pretend that he had simply had a way of surviving difficult times better than you. Instead, you now knew that the downfall had caused scars. Bleeding together didn’t seem quite as dangerous as bleeding alone.
So you told yourself that Sebastian did feel the same way, even if it was potentially a lie. In your mind, he was equally as nervous about today, equally as nervous to see your face. You repeated it like a mantra as you finally took a breath and pulled his sweater over your head. You made a mental note to ask him how he managed to continuously make everything he owned smell of pine - it couldn’t have been a normal cologne, the scent was simultaneously too subtle, but lingered for too long for that to be the case.
You were finally pulled from the grasps of your mind by a short rap at the door, followed by a few muffled words from your roommate. “Y/N, are you about ready to go? We should leave now if we’re going to meet Poppy and Natty on time.” You took one more deep breath, steading yourself.
You could treat this just like being in clinic. You could slip the mask of calm over your features, cool your reactions. You could look invested in this game, smile in the way that the cameras wanted to see.
“Coming,” you responded a moment later.
⋆｡°✩
The pitch was slightly less rowdy than you had expected. Back in your Hogwarts days, every game seemed as if it was a chance to demonstrate house loyalty. The louder someone screamed, the more outrageous outfits people wore, were viewed as a sign of how much you cared. If your own house wasn’t playing, people seemed to take notes on who you were cheering for.
The air at this game didn’t hold the same tension. Sure, people were dressed in green for Scotland and red for Wales. A few people had face paint, and you even saw a group of men with Wales written across their chests in bright body paint. But, the overall feeling was more relaxed. You felt a bit calmer as you looked around, observing the other attendees as you waited for your friends to collect their drinks. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you yet and for that you were thankful for that fact.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Poppy asked as she approached, beer in hand and snapping you out of focus.
“I’m fine, thanks Pops.” Poppy simply nodded and smiled, leaving it at that. Your friends never pushed the issue and for that you were thankful. Truth be told, some part of you always felt a responsibility to be sober when in public. Perhaps it was some twisted sense of responsibility that came naturally with being a physician, but someone needed to be sober to make sure everyone remained safe. You were perfectly happy to play that role.
“Are we ready to head to the stands?” Natty asked as she and Ominis rejoined the group.
You nodded and began to lead the group in the direction of the seats. Always the planner, you had looked up the layout of the stadium the moment Sebastian had sent you the tickets. When you finally approached the correct area, you were surprised to find a guard standing there, a rope beside him blocking off access to the seats.
“Er, hello.” You greeted the man, flashing him the best, most confident smile you could muster. “I believe that our seats are in this area… or perhaps I’m mistaken?” You handed over the tickets and upon inspection, the guard removed the rope, ushering your rag-tag party in.
“Welcome, Dr. L/N. I hope you enjoy the game.”
So, at least one person did know who you were. You tried not to focus on the snickering comment Poppy made, “Sebastian is really giving you the VIP treatment, huh?” You couldn’t admit that you wished he would give you that in all regards. Instead, you choose to sit down in your seat, straightening out your clothes and looking over the field. It was a grey, overcast day so you were thankful that Sebastian had loaned you such a warm sweater.
There were a few players lingering about, walking the pitch and likely chatting about strategies for the game. Your eyes grazed over them subconsciously, trying to spot a certain brunette. When your eyes finally caught on his freckled face, you couldn’t help but smile. It only took a few moments before he seemed to notice you watching him, and he returned your smile. He quickly turned back to his teammate, muttering something before turning to jog towards you instead.
“Hi,” Sebastian said when he reached you, cheeks flushed from the jog and the wind. The smile on his face was genuinely bright. He looked so ecstatic to see you that you worried your expressions wouldn’t look nearly as real. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“And I’m so happy to be here. Thank you again for the tickets.”
“It’s really no problem, anything for you.”
The air caught in your throat. Something in the way he said it made child-like butterflies appear in your stomach and a blush cover your cheeks. Sebastian just continued to look at you, his eyes passing over each of your features, taking his time as if he was studying you. Eventually his eyes met yours again and somehow both of your smiles grew bigger, despite the odds. You were so lost in each other, in the silent communication that passed between your forms, that neither of you seemed to register the blow of the whistle that signaled that the game would be starting momentarily.
It was only when Poppy bumped you with her shoulder, that you snapped back to reality and realized what was happening. “I believe that’s your signal,” you shared sheepishly. “Good luck, Seb. Don’t disappoint me.” You didn’t even process your use of the nickname. It had been years since you had last called him that, the name reserved only for moments that the two of you had been alone, tucked in the undercroft or room of requirement. Its presence in this moment felt both right and novel, like you were extending an olive branch that neither of you had sought out before.
“I’ll do my best for you, I promise.”
“OI! Kiss her for good luck mate. We need to win this game!” Neither of you had noticed the audience you held, but as you turned around your eyes landed on a group of men, all dressed in Scotland attire. One of them was grinning maniacally and you could see his friends trying to hold back laughs as they tried to shush him.
You turned back to Sebastian, who had his eyebrow raised, as if silently requesting permission. Before you could think any better of it, you gave him a slight nod. You could feel your whole body heat as he stepped forward, closing the space between you and putting his hand on your cheek. As he leaned in, your eyes fluttered close.
The feeling of his lips on yours was electrifying, a feeling only rivaled by a surge of ancient magic coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure which one of you deepened the kiss, but it only took a moment for Sebastian’s form to be pressed against your’s, his other hand finding purchase in your hair.
It was only when the second whistle sounded, and Ominis cleared his throat, that you two finally parted. Sebastian took a step back. “I believe that’s my signal to get going.”
You could only nod, your throat growing dry. Sebastian smiled at you again and you were thankful that at least one of you seemed to be handling this well.
“I’ll see you after the game, sweetheart.” He offered one last smile, before turning around and jogging to the rest of his teammates.
The moment he left, you practically collapsed back into your chair, feeling intensely out of breath.
“Do you need some water?” Poppy asked, clearly trying her best not to laugh at your state.
“Please.”
⋆｡°✩
The game was afoot, the players spiraling in wide arcs overhead. Theoretically you knew the rules to quidditch. You had watched quite a few games during your time at Hogwarts, but you were still at a disadvantage compared to most of wizardkind. The feeling had grown less uncomfortable over the years, as you had become more accustomed to the wizarding world. Regardless, your friends’ comments on the game left you feeling dazed and slightly confused.
You did your best efforts to focus on Sebastian, figuring that someone in the crowd must have had a camera pointed at you. It would sound a little self-obsessed if you were to admit those thoughts outloud, but these days, you could never be sure.
The score was 100 to 60, with Scotland in the lead. The snitch had yet to be caught, so it looked likely that the game would continue for a while, much to your dismay. Although you enjoyed watching Sebastian play, and could see the passion he had for the sport with every swing, the kiss had left you reeling. You felt a combination of content, dizzy, and slightly nauseous. You wanted to lay down and think through your feelings, process the fact that Sebastian had finally kissed you. The man that you had been in love with since you were 15 years old had kissed you and it felt world shattering. But, as your treacherous mind wanted to keep reminding you, it was fake. It was part of the ruse, and Sebastian had only done it because of pressure from the spectators. You couldn’t fully accept that explanation though, no matter how hard you had tried. Sure, the relationship was technically fake, but the kiss had felt so real. The way Sebastian had flushed himself against you, ran his fingers through your hair… it felt real to you.
The world had grown more damp, a slight drizzle falling from the gray sky. Your attention kept wandering, until you suddenly heard a commotion, and shouts overhead. Your eyes quickly snapped up, and to your horror you saw a bludger, shot from across the field, racing in the exact direction where you and your friends were sitting. Most of the players’ attention had been focused on the far goal, which belonged to Wales, where the quaffle was currently being passed back and forth. There was no way that any beater would be able to make it down field in time.
You knew the saying well, that in high intensity situations people often choose fight, flight, or freeze. Your years of using ancient magic to clear out poacher camps, fight goblins, etc, had left you as the fight type. But something in you, in this moment of time, froze.
It was like you were seeing the scene in slow motion, first spotting the bludger, the recognition it was headed towards your part of the crowd, and the acceptance that, with your horrible streak of luck lately, that it would probably hit you.
But it didn’t. You didn’t spot Sebastian racing down the field, until he was in front of it. His bat was extended and the bludger should have hit it. It didn’t. Instead, somehow, Sebastian took it straight to his chest. You heard the sickening crunch of bone. Before you could even let out a gasp, Sebastian was plummeting towards the ground, hitting with a hard thud. A whistle was called, pausing the game.
You jumped to your feet, your momentary frozen state resolved. You needed to get to him, you needed to make sure that he was okay… You needed to make sure he was alive.
Poppy tried to grab your hand, explaining that they certainly had medical staff on the sidelines, but you barely registered her pleas. Soon enough you were running, the slick turf coming up to meet your feet with each step.
You made it to him before anyone else. He was slumped on his side, eyes closed, curls damp from the game. You quickly rolled him onto his back, doing your best to assess the damage with a clinical eye, despite the fact your hands were shaking. He was still breathing, thank Merlin.
“Sebastian… Seb, can you open your eyes for me?” Your voice shook as you made your plea, hope intertwining with desperation.
It took a moment, but he did. He stared up at you, concern etched in your face, and the bastard had the audacity to smile. It was then that the other medical staff finally reached you.
“Ma’am, please step aside,” one of the medics urged, as you began running your hands down his chest, using your magic to check for fractured ribs.
“I’m a physician,” you stated calmly, continuing to probe. There were at least four separate fractures from what you could tell. He would need treatment as soon as possible.
The medic began to argue, but Sebastian responded instead, voice strung with pain. “Listen to her. Whatever she wants to do, do it.” You startled for a moment, surprised by his trust in you. Regardless, you listened, and returned to the conversation with the medic.
“He has numerous fractures in his rib cage. We need to get him to St Mungo’s, now.” An attempt at an argument had died with Sebastian’s statement, so the medic just nodded.
“If we can get him over to the medic tent, we have a port key.” You simply nodded.
“Perfect, now, help me lift him.” Sebastian began to protest, but upon finding that he was unable to sit up on his own, he resided in being placed on a stretcher.
You barely noticed the murmur of the crowd, the worry etched on everyone’s faces as you made your way with him to the medic tent. Your sole focus was Sebastian, who was now gripping your hand tightly as grunts of pain left his lips. You just need to get him to St Mungo’s, and he would be alright. At least, that was what you told yourself. You needed desperately for it to be true.
Summary: When Sebastian first broke her heart at Hogwarts, Y/N swore off becoming attached to anyone ever again. Now, years later, Sebastian is a professional Quidditch player and she's a renowned physician. When Sebastian breaks his wrist during a match, he turns to her for help. Though she's the one who can mend his broken body, he's determined to mend her heart.
Themes: One-sided enemies to lovers; Fake Dating; eventual smut
Your POV
When you finally began to stir from sleep, all you knew was that the warmth that had surrounded you for the past few hours had receded. You cracked your eyes open slowly, expecting to find your white sheets and that you had simply kicked your comforter to the floor again, but instead you were greeted by a deep grey. When you finally sat up, resting on your elbows and stomach, you looked around the room, piecing it together. You were in Sebastian’s room. Sunlight was streaming in through the single, tall window, so it had to be later in the day. Your scrubs were missing from your form, instead replaced by a worn green T-shirt.
Your call phone lay on the table beside you, which you quickly checked. No calls. It was around 9 am, so you were officially off shift until 7 pm that night. You let out a sigh of relief. If you had slept so deeply that you had forgotten what happened only a few hours prior, it was fully possible that you had missed hearing your phone.
You finally peeled yourself from the bed, figuring it was probably best to find Sebastian. Opening the door, you padded down the small hallway lined with mostly photos of Sebastian and his teammates, but a few of friends and family as well. Your fingers traced along the rim of the frames, until one caught your eye. Sebastian and Anne couldn't have been older than four, nestled in between two adults that had to have been their parents. Their mother was beaming down at the twins, while their father was ruffling Sebastian’s already disheveled hair affectionately. The older man had the same mop of brown hair, freckles adorning his cheeks in odd patterns, just like his son. He looked so much like his father it made your heart skip a small beat. You had never known what your parents had looked like, but a small part of you had always hoped you looked something like them. The loop on the picture restarted and you were snapped back to reality, beginning to make your way down the hall again. Somehow, you had the lingering feeling that you had intruded on something private, not meant for your eyes, nor anyone else’s.
When you finally made it into the kitchen, you were a little surprised to find Sebastian at the stove. He was humming softly, flipping something over before he finally seemed to register your presence and turned, flashing you one of those brilliant smiles that seemed to be reserved for the newspaper. “Good morning sleepy head,” he said, eyes raking over your form. It was hard to miss how his eyes seemed to catch on your hips and it was in that moment that you fully realized you weren't wearing any pants. Sure, Sebastian's shirt was long enough on you to cover everything while you were standing… but not by much. A blush quickly spread over your face, and you moved quickly to sit at one of his bar stools, daring to hide the skin from view.
Sebastian seemed to snap out of it, gaze going back to the pan and the stove in front of him. “Are eggs okay for breakfast?”
You shrugged. “Of course… I’m not going to complain about food. But, you wouldn't happen to have any coffee, would you?”
“I thought you mainly drank tea.” Sebastian finally dared to look at you again, throwing an inquisitive look over his shoulder. You shrugged.
“I don't discriminate against any forms of caffeine. Especially when I'm on night call.”
That gained a chuckle from his lips, the first one you had heard in a few days. You relished it; it gave you a mysterious feeling of success, one that could only be traced back to the giddy feeling you got when he first praised your dueling skills. “Well give me a second sleepyhead, let me finish the eggs first.”
You smiled and left him to it. Typically you would offer to help, often hating the idea of others doing everything for you. But given your lack of pants, you figured it was best to just sit for now, lest risk flashing Sebastian.
Soon enough, a plate of eggs was placed in front of you, along with a mug of black coffee. Typically you wouldn’t dare drink it straight, but after muttering an obligatory thank you Sebastian, you took a sip. Then you start into the eggs, surprise crossing over your face at the first bit.
“I didn’t know you knew how to cook?”
“Well, I have had to fend for myself for the better part of a decade.” You laughed, moving your stool over a bit as he sat down next to you with his own plate.
“I know. It's just a bit surprising you're this good at it.”
“Why would it be?” His eyes crinkled at the corners a bit, pressed in by the smile that stretched across his face.
“Because potions was the one class I didn't have to put extra effort into getting higher marks than you.” Sebastian let out a bark of a laugh, and you couldn’t help but smile adoringly at him. It was rare to see him this happy. In fact, you were never quite sure you had.
Sebastian’s POV
He really didn't like his eyes right now. Or maybe he adored them. Either way, he wasn’t sure.
When he woke up that morning, part of him was surprised to find you practically sprawled all over him. For some who seemed distant, hesitant to touch him, you certainly weren’t behaving that way now. Your leg was tangled between his, your arm was sprawled across his chest. Correction: your bare leg was tangled between his. Your bare arm was sprawled across his chest. While he certainly liked the feeling, a part of him was worried that this was pushing some boundary. That you had felt it your responsibility to stay with him while he was having a mini crisis and now you were in his bed. To watch him. To make sure he was okay. And he wasn’t doing the same for you now.
Thus, he slowly began to untangle himself, pulling himself away as gently as possible. When you had come to him last night it was hard not to notice the exhaustion etched onto your face. Even when his eyes had been flooded with tears he had picked up on it, and thus he thought it best to let you sleep.
When finally managed his extraction and was able to pull himself to the bed, he headed towards the bathroom. His flat could be cold in the mornings, and today was no exception. The floor practically made slippers a requirement.
When his reflection finally appeared in the mirror, hands gripping both sides of the white wash basin, he was surprised to find that he looked incrementally less rough than he usually did after night terrors. He supposed he had a few hours of calm sleep he managed to get to thank for that - calm sleep he only got because of you.
You, who was still curled up in his bed at this very moment.
You, who he wished could be there everyday for the rest of his short, tortured life. Perhaps you could make it all better.
He let out an audible sigh and shook his head, pulling himself upright. He had always had the overwhelming feeling that it was futile to wish for good things in his life. Sure, his quidditch career had taken off, better than he ever could have imagined. But the pieces of himself that he wished he could sort out, namely his relationships with his family and friends, always seemed out of reach. And then there was you and the way you seemed to always stick in his mind. He had been entranced by you since the moment you had entered the great hall in 5th year- Sebastian had always loved a mystery. A beautiful, intelligent, witty, and brave girl being attached to it was just a massive perk. So he sought to befriend you, and was successful. You were as thick as thieves, until he managed to tear it all down, and you closed off to him, seemingly forever. The way everyone else had done just the same, detaching themselves from him and placing enough distance in between that they were safe from whatever unknown illness he carried. Until the melancholy that seemed to haunt him couldn’t ruin their sunny day. Until last night, he hadn't really dared share much more vulnerability than your conversation on Saturday, when he finally talked about his family for the first time in a long time.
But now he had shared his torment, or at least part of it. And you had stayed. You stayed when you didn’t have to, when no reasonable person would have expected you to. You had showed up at his door, hugged him, and then followed him up the stairs when you could have just left and gone back to the hospital, or home, or wherever it was you chose to spend your night call. But you had stayed. You had changed out of your scrubs and into one of his shirts. You had crawled into bed with him, and held him until the sobbing subsided. You had stayed.
And fuck, the least he could do is let you sleep enough and make you breakfast.
So he set to his mission, walking to the kitchen and going through the motions. He pulled out a pan, turns on the stove, retrieves butter, eggs, and his very prized orange juice from the fridge. He made toast and by the time he was done with the sausage and is ready to start on the eggs, you emerged from the bedroom, sleep still riddling your face.
But that isn't the only thing he noticed. No, of course his eyes had to be attracted to it: how absolutely, blasted short his shirt was on you. Sure, everything is still covered… but a lot wasn’t. The soft curve of your legs was tantalizing, so much so that he longed for nothing more than to march across the room, grab you, and kiss you senseless. In all honesty, he longed to do so much more than that. But he knew that he couldn’t, so he simply smiled at you, bid you good morning, and turned around, both in an effort to hide his blush and the growing presence down low. He turned his attention back to the eggs and willed his brain to stop replaying the image of you standing there, in his apartment, wearing his clothes in his head.
Your POV
After eating, and finally managing to get a sip of Sebastian’s prized orange juice (which, if you were being honest… was sort of mid), you had slipped back into your scrubs before trying to help clear up dishes. Sebastian refused, bumping you away with his hip whenever you got to close, until laughter had overtaken both of your forms.
“So what's your plan for the rest of the day?” He finally asked, once he had managed to finally return to a semi-serious state. You shrugged, taking another sip of your coffee.
“Well, I'm back on call tonight. So probably try and stay up for a while, then get at least a nap in. How about you?” Your lower back was pressed against the counter, studying him as he washed each dish.
“I have a few training drills this afternoon, but nothing too rigorous. Coach likes to go easier on us in the couple days before a big game. Make sure we have enough energy, don't injure ourselves, all that.” You simply nodded in response.
“Do you eat dinner before you go to work? Maybe we can grab a bite together.”
“Are you asking me on a non-scheduled date, Sebastian Sallow?” You wiggled your eye brows and laughed when he elbowed you in response, surprised at how easy you found it to send that. Despite the inherent awkwardness of waking up in his bed, somehow it felt like something had clicked back into place last night. It was almost as if in showing you true vulnerability once again, in letting you in, Sebastian had shown you that at least a piece of the boy you had once fallen for still remained.
“I mean, if we're truly supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, it's a bit suspect if we're only seen together on the weekends. Seems like we don't actually make time for each other.”
“I'm a doctor, Sebastian. It's in my basic job description to have a lack of time for my personal life.”
“But you still make time for me.” He said, pausing his washing for a moment to meet your eyes.
“Okay, fair enough. But that's only because you make me breakfast and give me coffee. Not at all because I like spending time with you. It's entirely self-serving, truly.”
“Good to know that the way to your heart is calories and caffeine.” He laughed, motioning towards the coffee machine. “I'll make sure to put that thing to good use.”
You blushed almost instantly at his words, the implication hanging heavy in the air. How did one even begin to respond to that? You weren’t sure. After a few moments, Sebastian seemed to realize the awkwardness that laced what he had just said. He cleared his throat, eventually breaking the silence.
“Anyway… what time are you planning on getting to the game on Saturday?” You were thankful for the change of topic.
“We were planning on being there an hour before, but obviously it depends on what time everyone is ready.” Sebastian nodded, moving to refill your cup.
“I can’t wait,” he said, eyes locking with yours as he poured.
You swallowed a breath. “Me neither. But, truthfully, I probably shouldn’t do dinner tonight. How about I take you out after the game?”
The smile he gave you warmed your heart a bit, heat spreading down your face.
“I can’t wait.”
⋆｡°✩
When Friday finally sank its teeth in, you found yourself off call, your only objective being to try and flip your sleep schedule back to normal waking hours. You failed spectacularly, only slinking into your living room a little past 3 pm, finding Ominis prepping dinner.
“Funny seeing you here,” the blonde said, momentarily stopping his wand from chopping carrots. “I was beginning to think I was imagining having a roommate.”
You sat yourself down on the couch, pulling one of the many throw blankets you kept around onto your lap, trying to starve off the post sleep chill.
“Very funny. At least I knew you were here, although that is mostly due to your snoring.”
Ominis feigned a mock offended look, letting out a small scoff. “I do not snore!”
“I’ll be sure to record it next time. Now, do we have any coffee… or tea… or anything with caffeine. I’m not picky.” The blonde shook his head and sighed, raising his wand once again and moved to a cabinet to retrieve the requested ingredients.
“It’s almost like you also live here and should know where all those items are.”
“I do… but out of the kindness in your heart, can you find it in yourself to prepare some tea for me? I will be forever indebted.” You knew Ominis liked to fake offense, truly, it was one of his greatest talents. But you also knew, deep down, that he liked doing things for those he held dear. If you had thought about it any deeper, perhaps it would always boil down to a relative lack of warm, familial relationships in his life… But it was too early in the day for your clinician’s brain to be working so hard. Besides, that would make you feel more guilty for abusing that tendency so often.
“I’m not Sebastian you know. I won’t just make you tea because you’re you! I only do it because you’re insufferable without caffeine.”
“What on Earth is that supposed to mean?” You shot him a withering look as he brought a mug filled with hot water and a tea bag over to you, before sinking down into the couch beside you.
“Just that I know where you spent yesterday morning.” You found yourself desperately wanting to wipe the smirk off the blonde’s face at that moment, but opted to regain your composure and sip your beverage instead.
“How did you know that?” You finally asked, pinning him down with what you hoped was your best threatening glare.
“I didn’t.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his own beverage. “I just made an educated guess. You got back much later than usual yesterday morning. I know that your patients don’t keep you that long. But, thank you for confirming it for me. Glad to know that I was right, per usual.”
The sputter you let out would be comical for any other reason. Instead, you just found yourself growing annoyed. Peeling yourself from the couch, you stood, taking your mug with you.
“I’m going to go shower.”
“Need to look pretty for Sebastian?”
“Be glad I have an ethical obligation not to injure people, Ominis.”
fun fact: one time i got so annoyed with the people playing absolutely shit ass music on the touchtunes in an applebees that i downloaded the app, paid Actual Real Money, and continuously skipped them to show dominance and to get them to shut the fuck up. for reference they were a bunch of young boys being really inappropriate. anyway. i like seeing what people are listening to, so let’s share some stuff you’ve had on repeat lately! here we go:
1. blood moon ; christian death.
2. haunted ; type o negative.
3. fallen angel ; amalee, lollia, richaadeb. ( amy put me ONNNNNNNN )
4. lose control ; teddy swims.
5. you can have it all ; florence + the machine. ( very sad that i had to sell my tickets to see her live today :( )
6. dracula ; tame impala.
𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖈𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌: ( jk no pressure lol ) @alliezarin @amus2110 @elkingwriter @creampuffcloudsdreaming @barnabyjr @elisalsaa @lenorashore @kiwiplaetzchen @charliehlblog @kijoo @wolfwaill @sage-pages @ literally all of you my brain is scrambled eggs but i’d like to see what records you have in your jukebox…
np tags: @le-rryder @glutengoblin @blue-birdie612 @ravenothere @lyra-prag @sentrysallow (and if you see this and think 'hey i listen to music too!' share those songs right now)
---
"deceptacon" by le tigre
"in the room where you sleep" by dead man's bones
"oblivion" by grimes
"murder on the dance floor" by sophie ellis-bextor
Thank you so much @gryffindorgirl99 for thinking me! 🥹🫶🤭
Okay, okay—here is is 😌
We all have so much info on our OC's... but I'd love to know more about YOU! I've tagged some extra people, but if you'd like to participate and you haven't been tagged—make sure to repost with yours because I want to see it!!
passing this on to... @amus2110 @barnabyjr @creampuffcloudsdreaming @dzukika @dovewonderland @gothic-lottie @izaya-art @idrewastar @jarvissaywhat @lyra-prag @light-of-the-room @lenorashore @pearlevie @rvchelking @rhae96 @wolfwaill
I've added the Wizarding World descriptions for my Patronus and wand because... Why the hell not? 🤣
House: Gryffindor
Patronus: Dragon
Possibly the most famous of magical creatures, but interestingly one of the rarest Patronuses in the wizarding world, dragons are deadly yet awe-inspiring and hold the most dangerous Ministry classification. Do not be afraid of these remarkable Patronuses - be...fired up!
It is said that a laurel wand cannot perform a dishonourable act, although in the quest for glory (a not uncommon goal for those best suited to these wands), I have known laurel wands perform powerful and sometimes lethal magic. Laurel wands are sometimes called fickle, but this is unfair. The laurel wand seems unable to tolerate laziness in a possessor, and it is in such conditions that it is most easily and willingly won away. Otherwise, it will cleave happily to its first match forever, and indeed has the unusual and engaging attribute of issuing a spontaneous lightning strike if another witch or wizard attempts to steal it.
okay so i've always gotten hufflepuff w/ a rabbit patronus on pottermore, right? last year i took the quiz and got slytherin. thought oh cool i guess, i like the aesthetic but idk if i fit the stereotypical traits
took it twice this afternoon and wdym i'm a ravenclaw now?
and my patronus is a bus?
i think i've gotten every house at least once honestly lol. i love em all--and i can see how i fit into each--but i'm sticking to my hufflepuff label (or adopting an honorary slytherin or ravenclaw title i guess)
i'm so tempted to take the test as my girls and see what they get but i'm running out of fake emails to use lmao
ahhh thank you both @torturedpoetism & @yuunarii-ariifor the tags xo
currently reading: the secret service of tea and treason by india holton
currently watching: the beauty (yeah i'm behind)
currently craving: creme eggs
last song: dirty talk - wynter gordon
Currently reading: (I have a tendency to always have a fun book, an audiobook, and either an educational podcast or book on rotation, so...) Defend the Dawn by Brigid Kemmerer, Funny Story by Emily Henry (on audiobook), and I just finished When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi
so tragic when you're an enjoyer of characters who are toxic destructive messes and then the majority of the fics are like "what if they communicated healthily and were nice to each other :)"
like if i wanted to read about wholesome well-adjusted relationships i would NOT be looking for stories about these freaks in particular i promise you!!!
Summary: When Sebastian first broke her heart at Hogwarts, Y/N swore off becoming attached to anyone ever again. Now, years later, Sebastian is a professional Quidditch player and she's a renowned physician. When Sebastian breaks his wrist during a match, he turns to her for help. Though she's the one who can mend his broken body, he's determined to mend her heart.
Themes: One-sided enemies to lovers; Fake Dating; eventual smut
Idle chit-chat filled the next hour, along with food. It still surprised you how easy it felt to speak with Sebastian now. The longer you spent together, the less the years you spent apart seemed to matter.
By the time the check came, you had both fallen silent. You had not planned on any other activities, figuring that Sebastian would probably rather spend his Saturday doing whatever, or whoever, it was he chose to fill his free time with, rather than entertain you.
Once the bill had been paid, you stood, pulling on your jacket. “Well, this was,” you considered your words for a moment, “fun. I’ll see you next weekend?” Sebastian stood to pull on his coat as well, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, do you have somewhere else to be today?” You frowned slightly, studying his face. His tone seemed joking, but with him you could never really tell what answer he wanted.
“Well, no, but I figured you had other things you needed to attend to.”
“I didn’t plan anything.” Sebastian paused, considering for a moment. “Have you been to Edinburgh before?”
You nodded, before adding, “a couple of times to visit, but I haven’t really stayed that long.”
“Well, let’s explore then! Let me show you around my city!” Sebastian offered his hand, and you tentatively took it, following him out the restaurant. You weren’t entirely sure what you were getting yourself into, but you supposed you had nothing better to do. Spending the afternoon with Sebastian in Edinburgh seemed better than simply curling up at home with another book, so you dared to humor him.
⋆｡°✩
A couple of hours later, you found yourselves wandering the streets of Dean village, ice cream cones dripping slightly down your hands. You were enchanted by the buildings, admiring the small details that you could only find in older structures. Hogwarts had been magnificent, grand hallways and arches, but you had always preferred the calm coziness of Hogsmeade. This area reminded you of the village, but without the magical edge. You appreciated that sometimes. When magic had come crashing into your life just before 5 year, you had been enchanted. But as time wore on, you had begun to long for the quietness of your childhood, life without the hum of ancient magic under your skin. You felt that sort of calm now, here in these streets that didn’t belong you, but somehow felt like they did.
Sebastian hadn’t said much in the past few minutes, perhaps simply trying to eat his lemon ice cream before it fully fell apart on him, or giving you some of the quiet you seemed to love so much.
You decided to break it.
“I can see why you moved to Edinburg, it’s beautiful.” Sebastian nodded, before responding.
“It is, but sometimes I miss Feldcroft. The city can be a bit much at times.”
You considered your next words carefully, trying to gauge where the invisible boundary lay. “Do you ever think you’ll move back to Feldcroft?”
Sebastian let out a soft laugh, before looking down at his feet, as if trying to figure out how to respond. “I wish I could, but I’m not sure I’d ever be comfortable living there again. I mean, I feel like I would just think about Anne and Uncle Solomon more than I already do.” You tried to control your surprise at his vulnerability. Despite the time you had been spending together, this was the first time that he had directly mentioned his uncle.
The moment held its breath, as if both Sebastian and life around you was waiting for your response. You didn’t want to risk squandering this moment, so you said softly. “You don’t need to blame yourself for what happened, you know. It’s… It’s good that you’ve learned to not use dark magic. But Uncle Solomon… That situation wasn’t your fault. You were just a child. He attacked us.” Sebastian turned to stare at you, searching your face for any sign that you didn’t mean those words, didn’t mean to admit to him, after all these years, the action that had been routinely eating him up inside was not his fault.
He found none.
“Do you still think about that night?” He finally asked, surprising you, before swallowing down a breath.
“A lot.” Your reply was soft, as if this admission was one you had never planned to make. “But not because of what- because it was a moment that hurt a lot of people. Me, you, Anne…” A small sigh broke past your lips, your gaze traveling towards the cobblestones. “I suppose I have a tendency to hyper fixate on things that hurt. Situations that hurt.”
“That doesn’t seem super healthy for a doctor. I’m sure you see people in pain a lot.” Sebastian added, as if you hadn’t been thinking the same thing for the past few years.
“I mean, it isn’t. But people are always going to be in pain. At least as a physician, I can try to do something about it. Try to lessen the pain in the world, at least somewhat.” Sebastian nodded, a look of deep consideration painting his face.
When he didn’t add anything to the conversation, you decided to leave it at that. It was a tricky subject for the both of you, how pain could affect life. You weren’t sure you were fully ready to entertain that topic of conversation with him yet.
The silence fell like a blanket, one you struggled to unwrap yourself from, even after a few minutes. After a few minutes of trying your best to unravel your thoughts, you finally were able to find a new thread to tug.
“So, for the quidditch game next weekend. What should I wear? I haven’t been to a game since our time at Hogwarts, so I have no idea what to wear anymore, given house colors no longer seem appropriate.”
Sebastian visibly perked up, as if thankful for the subject change as well. “Well, it's supposed to be cold, so I would recommend layers. I don’t suppose you own any Scotland gear?” You shook your head no almost immediately, earning a chuckle from Sebastian’s lips. “Well, you can borrow something of mine. I’m sure you’ll be able to fit a proper jacket underneath it. We can stop by my flat before you head back to London tonight.”
⋆｡°✩
Tonight approached more quickly than you would have otherwise liked. While you were sure that you would come to regret all the steps you had taken the next day, with the sore feet they inevitably gave you, you couldn’t help but feel some nostalgia. The days of you and Sebastian galavanting across the highlands were inevitably over, and a part of you would always miss those days. But, exploring a new city with him helped to fill some of that void.
The streetlights were beginning to turn on when you finally reached Sebastian’s building. You were in an old part of the city, the buildings shorter here. Though neither of you had really mentioned it, somewhere in the mix of the day your hands had become intertwined, connecting you both across the small distance that still remained between you. You both seemed too afraid to break contact, until this very moment, when Sebastian finally dropped your hand and turned to look at you.
For some inexplicable reason, he seemed nervous. “So…” His voice made a boyish crack, one that you couldn’t help but smile softly at. “I… You have to promise not to judge, okay?” That request earned a laugh from you, as you shook your head.
“Please Sebastian. I know how messy you are. Remember the time I cleaned out your bag?”
Sebastian turned scarlett at the memory from fifth year, when you had grown so tired of watching more books being tortured by the disorder that was Sebastian’s book bag, that you decided to clean it out for him. He had simply sat in the undercroft in pure mortification as you ridded the bag of junk and essays long past graded, sorting everything into piles. Ominis walking in, exclaiming that he was happy someone had finally decided to take the initiative to clean up Sebastian’s mess, even though he would have rather it had been Sebastian.
Sebastian finally seemed to snap out of it, explaining in a hurried tone, “no, it’s not that. I just… A lot of women have judged my place, okay? It’s not what they expect.”
“Do you bring a lot of women home, Sebastian? Am I just destined to be another notch in your bed post?” You weren’t really sure what had taken over you to make a joke like that, and somehow it gratefully took on its intended effect. Sebastian turned an even darker shade of red, his freckles sticking out in contrast.
“I. No! Of course not… You’re the first one I’ve brought back in a long time and I, you could never be just a notch in my bed post. My flat just isn’t what people expect, I guess.” Your mind instantly noted the comment about the bed post, but you had lost the courage to continue that line of conversation, and Sebastian was already mortified. There really wasn’t a point you making the situation worse.
“Just take me up, Sebastian. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it seem.”
⋆｡°✩
It was certainly different than you thought it would be. Sebastian had left you in his living room, scurrying off to find a sweater that you could borrow. You gazed around the space, a feeling bordering on nostalgia hitting you in waves. You had expected the flat of a quidditch star to be a luxurious space, made up of bland shades of beige and black, filled with objects that lacked familiarity.
Sebastian’s flat was the opposite. It was smaller, the kitchen and living room sharing space. The walls were a dark green, one that reminded you of the quidditch sweater you had seen Sebastian wear during games in his sixth year. Books covered most of the available table tops and shelf space, with some spaces being saved for what looked like an array of magical artifacts. You stepped over to the bookshelf, looking over objects resting there. It would be dishonest to claim that your heart didn’t speed up a bit at the sight. For all intensive purposes, it fully seemed like Sebastian had given up his teenage obsession with dark magic. But a small, insecure part of you could never find yourself too sure. You checked the artifacts looking for any sign that he was deceiving you again, that these secretly held some dark power. You found yourself releasing a breath that you didn’t know you were holding when you found none.
You soon turned your attention to the worn black leather couch pressed against your thighs as you observed the shelf. It took up a good chunk of the living room. It looked inviting and you could easily picture Sebastian sitting there, feet up on the trunk he was using as a makeshift coffee table, nose deep in a book. You could almost imagine you sitting next to him, doing the exact same thing.
You were quickly pulled from the image when he finally reappeared, a green knit with the Scottish National Team’s logo embroidered on the front in his hands. “Here,” he said, passing it to you, “I think that’s the warmest piece of merch I own.” You held it in your hands, the soft feeling of the fabric urging you to pull it on at that very moment. You refrained from that action, worried that it might make things more awkward than they already are.
“I… thank you. I’m sure it will really come in handy at the game.”
He simply smiled at you, and for a second you let yourself pretend.
You let yourself pretend for another moment that there was something real between you, something tangible. Sebastian had escaped his obsession, and now had the capacity to care for other things, like you. That he wasn’t giving you his sweater to keep up a ruse, but rather because he wanted to keep you warm. Because he wanted to see you wearing his clothes. Because he wanted you to be his.
You were so fucked.
⋆｡°✩
The week came and went in a flurry, mostly thanks to you being on night call for the majority of it. While many of your coworkers bemoaned having to wake at all odd hours, there was part of you that couldn’t help but love it. Perhaps it was the fact that you had spent much of your teenage years sneaking out to forbidden places after dusk, or perhaps a part of you just appreciated the peace and quiet. London would never truly be free of activity, but there was a noticeable lack of it at 2 am.
As you made your way around beds, making sure everyone was still breathing, your only company was the low chimes of monitors, sounds you had become overly accustomed to during the course of your career. You could swear that you would hear them sometimes even when you were home, alone, with no one making a sound.
But, as with most other things, there were trade-offs when it came to working the night shift. Namely, your sleep schedule took a noticeable hit. Your already limited contact with your friends and roommate became even more stilted, only maintained by out of sync text messages at otherwise unoccupied hours.
Your communication with Sebastian became even more stilted, the occasional text back and forth. He sent you a photo of the training grounds, blanketed in a thick layer of fog, captioned with ‘looks like this will be the weather on Saturday.’ You responded a few hours later, when you had finally managed to blink the sleep from your eyes.
Sometimes you couldn’t find your way back to sleep. In those instances, you choose to capitalize on your time, pouring yourself over research texts until sleep finally reeled you back in. You thought that you were making progress, or at least your brain chided you into believing that in your dream like haze. Your ideas had begun to shift in ways that you didn't always like the sound of. You slowly found your way back towards Isidora's works, the idea of extracting pain rattling around in your head. An idea had begun to blossom - what if the problem wasn't that Isidora had taken away pain, but rather had taken too much of it. It seemed rather strange from a medical sense, a field that usually found itself extracting more tissue than necessary, lest the cancer or other malady spread. But pain was different. There was an emotional context to it, something that made it more profound than a tumor, more alive. Maybe, removing only some of it would be the solution.
The early hours of Thursday morning found you pondering that question at your desk, before you jumped at your personal phone vibrating. You looked up at the skylight in your office, the stars still crisp above. It was still firmly night time, so it was odd that anyone would be texting you then.
Your screen was uncomfortably bright as you unlocked your phone, finding a text from Sebastian hoovering there.
Sebastian: You up?
You typed quickly.
Y/N: Yeah, what's up?
Sebastian: Are you busy?
You weren’t, particularly. You could have just gone home and floo'd into the hospital when needed, but you felt like you couldn't sleep that night.
Y/N: I'm on call, but everything seems stable for the moment. What's up?
Sebastian: I had a nightmare.
It came to you in flashbacks, times during sixth year that Ominis had appeared a bit too tired in class.
“Sebastian was having nightmares again. Keeps waking me up.”
The blonde had never offered further explanation. It was as if you had both silently vowed to keep it under lock and key. Although you were sure that Sebastian would never offer details to either of you, you both knew the most likely culprit. What had occurred in the catacombs had haunted you too through many-a-sleepless night as well, if you were being honest.
Y/N: Are you okay?
You responded once your fingers decided to move, crossing that once invisible boundary that you and Ominis had laid in salt. But Ominis wasn’t here, just the quiet of your office and the light from your phone illuminating your face.
Sebastian: Not really.
You took in a breath, the shift palpable. It seemed like Sebastian had also realized that you were no longer at Hogwarts, strangers who knew definitively too much about one another. You talked now. Some would practically call you friends, and they wouldn’t be lying. Hell, the majority of the wizarding world, or at least the ones who paid attention to quidditch or medicine, thought you were dating.
Y/N: Do you want to talk about it?
It wasn’t long before his reply appeared on the screen. You blinked, as if your tired brain was surely making this up.
Sebastian: Is there any way you could come here?
You technically could. You were only on call, afterall. The nurses could take care of most of the nightly disturbances, and with floo powder and apparition being options, physicians were allowed to come and go as they pleased. Still, some part of you felt hesitant, as if the implications of finding yourself outside his door at this hour of the night felt a bit too real. You replied before your brain could really, truly catch up.
Y/N: Be there in 2.
Despite all your best inklings that this was not your most intelligent idea, you soon found yourself moving to the hallway floo flame. You grabbed a bit of powder, and in an instant, you were in front of his building, shivering in your rumpled scrubs, on call phone in your pocket.
Sebastian padded down the stairs and opened the door, in a simple white tee, pajama pants, and slippers. He looked simple and boyish with his sleep disheveled hair, something in your heart jumping loose at the sight. He looked more like the grown up version of the boy that had stolen your heart all those years ago than he ever had before. It took you an embarrassingly long time to notice the tears that had stained his face, more threatening the corners of his eyes.
“I… I didn’t think you would come.”
“You needed me.” You said, jolting into action as your instincts took over. You took the steps necessary to close the distance, searching his eyes for any sign that this wasn’t what he had meant when he had messaged you. You found none.
You reached up, on your tip toes, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his body warm against yours. It was as if a dam suddenly broke and Sebastian came crashing towards you, his arms finding purchase around your frame, his sob pressed into your shoulder as if you had the capability to absorb them. You supposed you did.
✨ It's that time of the week to share our favourite music with each other ✨
The randomiser hath chosen it's five participants for this week...
As always, feel no obligation or pressure to participate! It's all a bit of fun! Just as a reminder for those who weren't here last week, a randomiser is picking people from my list of followers!
A/N: Just a sad drabble I wrote, inspired by "Too Little, Too Late" by Laufey. Hope you enjoy!
The streetlights reflected dully off the rain-touched cobblestones as Sebastian made his way home. Another shift over, another day wasted away in the cramped office he resigned himself to. It was almost as if he was scared to fall out of routine, as if not alternating exclusively between home and work would cause him to lose his hard-earned mental clarity.
Sebastian didn’t think about you. He didn’t think about him. That’s what he told himself every time he saw your faces in the papers, every time the few friends he had left didn’t know better than to bring you up again.
He didn’t think about you. He didn’t think about the ways in which you had always been too good for him. It had always been a death sentence for your relationship, the fact that he would never amount to who you deserved. The lies he told himself had been the catalyst. His issues had simply provided the fuel. You deserved someone who didn’t dabble with things better left in pages of forgotten textbooks. You had saved so many people- you needed someone who could appreciate sacrifice, the battle for good. Not someone who had taken the easy way out of a fight that he always had a feeling was coming, then had fled when the heat became too much.
Sebastian had left. He had left school, he had left you behind. He had assumed you had done the same.
The first time Sebastian heard his name called, he thought that it was the delusion setting in. He had worked for too long, to the point of exhaustion.
The second time, the call turned into a scream.
He turned.
His eyes landed on your form, as you stood there under a streetlight, swaying slightly on your heels.
He felt his jaw go slack as you ran towards him, a smile too big to be for him plastered on your face.
He hadn’t seen you in two years, the distance feeling like a lifetime missed now. You had cut your hair shorter. You were cleanly dressed. You were wearing makeup. You looked like a different person, like you had wiped away every trace of your history, of him.
He swallowed.
“It is you! I wasn’t sure for a second, but when you turned around… How have you been?” You asked, looking up at him like you always had, a smile playing at the edge of your lips. It was the only sign you were still the same person, had once been his. He supposed you looked at him like that now.
“I… I’ve been. I’ve been good.” He croaked out, the lie tasting bitter in his mouth. It was surprising that he could still do that to you so easily.
“That’s good. I’ve been… I’ve been meaning to reach out-”
“Have you?”
“Ominis and I are getting married.”
He had known this fact. It had been the talk of the town. Ominis Gaunt, the most eligible bachelor of this generation, and the Hero of Hogwarts were to be wed.
It was all his fault.
If he had never introduced you, had never given you reasons to grow close, then maybe you would be with someone else. Maybe you would have been with him.
“We wanted you to come to the wedding, but I didn’t know where to send the owl.” You stood there, clearly waiting for his answer.
“I’ll come.” He answered, his lips moving out of obligation before he could even consider what that would mean.
He would have to settle. Settle for being a jester in the stories you told to the children, your friend who had dragged you on many wild quests. The fact that you had ever been more would be erased, only known to a select few who figured it was better to forget.
He’d be left as the shell of a man, whispering vows outside your wedding day, ones he would never say to you.
Sebastian knew he had lost his fight with fate, had lost his chance to be with you.
Loss was the only thing he was promised in this life. He knew it with certainty now.
Chapter 7 of THE FATE OF OPHELIA is in progress! Given the exciting news I received yesterday, my time has been a bit occupied celebrating with family and friends. I should have it up soon!
gummygunk
areudirty
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
izzy806
