Seb: "Each movement I make draws a breathless gasp meant only for your ears... so you always know exactly how good you're making me feel every single moment"
Just wanted to drop a WIP of my Seb x Mc pack. This is the second-to-last piece, so the pack launch is getting closer and closer!
Still experimenting with how to combine my manga-style art with slightly more realistic shading in a way that feels right.
I really want to improve my art skills 😫
"... and most of all, I miss book shopping with you in Hogsmeade, your carefree smile permanently etched in my mind as I carried all your bags. I know you'll never forgive me for what happened with Uncle Solomon, but I hope that wherever you are, you're living your best life."
Summary: You were cooped up in the Room of Requirement while Mother Nature ran her course, which put Sebastian in a panic. After a visit from the Slytherin boy, it was now your mission to ignore him and silence whatever was rolling in your head.
Word Count: 9.4k
Warnings/Tags: 18+, suggestive themes, reader insert, female mc, no use of y/n, very softly implied slytherin! reader, slight angst with comfort, confessions, happy ending :)
It was that time of the month again, something you dreaded. Your menstruations were excruciating and long with a list of symptoms as tall as the Eiffel Tower. Even with all the magic, herbs and potions in the world, there was only so much that could be done with your internal parts that seemed to only spite you.
Luckily enough, Hogwarts was very forgiving towards you and assigned only rest and relaxation during your period. Professor Weasley suggested the Room of Requirement as the most restful place in the castle and to alert Nurse Blainey if you needed any extra ailments to curb your troubles. She also tasked Deek with communicating with the kitchen elves, making sure that all three meals were ready and brought to the room, including anything extra if you so craved it.
All of this coddling made you feel embarrassed and a little shameful. It was a lot and was too special for what you thought you were worth, but it was nice. You still had to keep up on assignments, but was able to not have to worry about running around the castle or dealing with other people while your emotions were above extreme.
You did miss one messy-haired Slytherin, but you knew that he would be alright. A week of missed classes would be brushed off as being out in some random hamlet, fighting off trolls or collecting potion ingredients.
“You do not look alright,” Imelda stated bluntly, sitting down at a spot at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. Her eyes glanced at the boy staring at the large doors, hair tousled more than usual and a frown that seemed to be rooted on his face. “Is this about a certain girl?”
“I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. It’s Wednesday, and usually, if she went on some random expedition, she would be back by now. She never misses Divination, and today she did,” Sebastian said, looking away from the door to glance at his untouched lunch. While his trust is always unwavering towards you, he can’t help but worry something worse had happened. Maybe some dark wizards kidnapped you or you were bleeding inside some random cave in the Highlands. His imagination couldn’t help but run wild as he thought of a million reasons why you were not in front of him.
“And she didn’t tell you anything?” With a shake of his head, she let out a small hum. “That is odd…If she didn’t say anything, maybe talk to Professor Weasley? She’s the only other person I can think of that might know anything besides you.”
A sparkle of hope twinkled in his eyes and he shot out of his seat. “You’re right! I’ll see you later, Imelda!” Sebastian yelled out, already running to the Deputy Headmistress’s office. While he scampered to where he hoped Professor Weasley was, thoughts continued to arise and they only grew worse. The cool winds that wisped around him could not cool his ever-working brain. His eyebrows remained furrowed and a frown was painted when he knocked on the professor’s door.
A soft “come in” rang out before he opened the door, the same worried expression resting on his face. “Sallow,” Professor Weasley said with a tone, almost as if she knew he was going to pay a visit. “And what do I owe the pleasure?”
He gave her a strong glance before becoming shy under her unwavering gaze, turning to look at the stone wall as he spoke. “I was wondering if you knew about her whereabouts?” Sebastian asked, almost unsurely as he became timid.
“Ah, yes,” She stood from her seat at the desk while nodding her head. “I’m surprised she hasn’t spoken to you about where she wandered; but then again, girls do keep their secrets.” The deputy headmistress walked over to where the Slytherin was, a bemused smile on her face. “Did she ever tell you about the Room of Requirement?”
“I believe so, but very briefly. Something about a magical room or something,” He told as he quirked a questioning brow, unsure as to why a random room had to do with where she was and what she was doing.
“I assume that means she didn’t say where it was or how to get there then, but I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Professor Weasley leaned in close, letting her eyes stay stern as she spoke the rest. “You mustn't tell anyone else this, but to reach the Room of Requirement you must go to the Astronomy Tower’s highest corridor — right before you reach the classroom across from Barnabas’s tapestry — , and think of what you need. Then, once the door appears, open it. Follow the path inside and there you will be at the Room of Requirement. Understood?” With a small nod from the student, a smile spread out on her face and she stepped away. “Good, then you must make haste. I have a stack of papers taller than a Hippogriff to get to.”
She sat back down at her desk, a smile still on her face as she reached for a paper on the comically large stack beside her. Quill in hand, the professor glanced back up and noticed the boy still had not moved. “Chop, chop. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, now do you?”
“O-Of course, thank you,” He gave a curt nod before turning around and making his way to the Astronomy Tower. While he wished he could understand as to why he had to storm about the castle to wander in some random room, all he could focus on was you. From what Sebastian could recall, the only thing he knew about the room was that it was magical. The most he could assume was some classroom that may have had a dummy or two and maybe a potted plant sitting on a windowsill; yet, it did intrigue him how secretive this mysterious place was.
You were lounging on your large sofa, light blue tea gown bunched as you let your calves and feet lay exposed. At the table next to you sat your afternoon tea turning cold with a muggle book sitting next to it. You had just finished your light lunch of toast and jam with a side of fruit before telling Deek that you wished to lay down. Your sanitary belt was digging into your plush hips and your ankles burned from the constant swelling you were dealing with. Pairing that with the waves of cramping attacking your lower belly while there was an underlying burn of hormonal frustration, all you could handle was to rest.
Even though you wished to be causing a muck with your closest friends, you knew your frazzled presence would do nothing but sour the experience you wanted. Which is why with the afternoon sun and your head resting on a plush armrest, you let yourself fall asleep unbeknownst to the boy running up a tower of stairs.
When Sebastian finally reached the top of the stairs, he rested his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. No matter how many times he walked, sprinted or fell down these stairs, he could never get used to the physical exertion it took to climb up every single one of them. But it was a small detail for the quest to find you and find out why you disappeared.
After catching his breath and finally having enough oxygen to move, he walked to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy before doing a 180 turn and facing blank stone. “So this is the infamous wall…” He stared at it and started to think about what he needed most, which was you. Sebastian was glaring and let out a frustrated groan when nothing happened. “Why won’t this bloody thing open?” The Slytherin started to pace around, ignoring the stray glance a wandering Ravenclaw gave him as he pondered on how to get this open and see you.
On his third pace, rearing to start his fourth, the wall started to shift and change. Black and brown swirled before a door suddenly appeared. “Merlin’s bloody balls,” He muttered, shocked at what happened in front of him. Sebastian walked up to the magically appeared door and grasped the handle, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. As he walked in, ornate walls formed and a large room appeared. It was bustling with different potion stations boiling, plants in pots growing and other unknown setups moving about. Books and paintings covered the walls with other trinkets as Sebastian tried to take the full room in. It was beautiful and had you written all over it. From the color scheme to the light filtering in through the large skylight, the room perfectly encapsulated you.
“Deek was not told about any visitors,” someone spoke behind, causing the wizard to jump. “Deek did not mean to scare you!” The house elf exclaimed, putting his hands out as if to catch the student.
“No, it’s alright. Just startled, that’s all,” Sebastian said, cheeks turning bright as he cleared his throat. “I was actually wondering if a certain witch was around?”
“Deek cannot allow you to see her. Deek was not told about any visitors and Deek doesn’t even know your name,” Deek replied, standing strong as looked up at him.
“Apologies on my end, it’s Sebastian Sallow. I was just hoping to see her? I haven’t heard from her and was getting worried,” The boy admitted, cheeks turning rosier from what he told as he rubbed the back of his neck. His sincere concern must have been noticed by the house elf before the latter visibly relaxed.
“Master has spoken much about Sebastian. Deek will allow you to see her, but Deek must warn you — she is not at her best right now, and may still be sleeping,” Deek walked towards the entrance of a different corridor, looking back at the Slytherin. “Master is down this way.”
“Thank you, Deek,” Sebastian said honestly before walking through the hall and down the steps. His heart was racing while relief washed through him. He was glad to have found you, but nervousness and concern scratched at him. Questions of what Deek meant about you not being at your best and finally seeing you were reaching him at lightning speed. It created a small trepidation in his stride, stepping on the last step before reaching the next room. The area was similar to the main one he was just recently in, similar shelves and decor scattered throughout. He scanned the room before his eyes met your figure lounging on the couch.
The breath in his throat hitched and he took a step closer to you.
You looked serene. Face lax and layers of soft blue wrapped around you. It was a heavenly sight that he was fortunate enough to see. Sebastian crouched down to be face-to-face with you, wanting to drink up the sight you were. Your hair was messy from laying and your cheek was smushed from the couch armrest, but it was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. He reached over and moved a small piece of hair out of your face, barely noticing the flutter of your eyes as you roused out of your slumber.
“Sebastian?” You asked hoarsely, voice still heavy from sleep. He quickly retreated his hand and froze up. “What are you doing here?”
“Um,” He was at a loss for words and blood rushed to his face. Sebastian quickly looked away to not make eye contact with you. “You didn’t show up to Divination and Professor Weasley said you might be here.”
A soft giggle left your lips and adoration swelled in your chest. “That’s very sweet of you,” You reached out and rubbed his arm softly, coaxing him to look at you. As hard as you tried to keep the emotions within you platonic, the look that matched a puppy made something deeper flutter in your stomach.
“What are you doing cooped up in here? Deek mentioned something about you not feeling well?” It was now your turn to become flustered and retreat your hand away to sit up. The acknowledgement of what you were dealing with caused a flair of pain to swelter in your stomach and instinctively let out a noise of discomfort as you tried to subdue the pain with a hand to your belly. “What’s wrong? Should I fetch Deek? Do you need some wiggenweld potion?”
His instant concern made another giggle leave your lips as you shook your head, biting your lip as you looked at him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much to be done. Nature just seems to be against me at this very moment.”
A look of realization dawned on his face and if he could turn any redder, this moment would be where he did. “Oh…well, do you still need anything?” He watched as you swung your feet to touch the ground and backed away to give you more space to stand.
“Right now, all I want is for this to be over,” You joked, standing on your swollen ankles with a small hiss before looking at him. “Are you okay to stay here for a second? I’m not leaving, I just need to talk to Deek about some things.”
He gave a curt nod, offering you a comforting smile. “Of course. I’ll be right here for you.” You offered a smile back in return before walking and heading to the main room.
When you caught sight of Deek, he instantly perked up and walked over to you. “Deek hopes you’re okay with Deek letting Sebastian see you. Deek saw that he looked concerned.”
“I’m more than okay with it,” You assured as you nodded. “Can I ask you for some things though, Deek?”
“Deek would be more than happy to accommodate you,” The house elf told, standing straighter to hear your instructions.
“Could you bring me an ice pack and an extra serving for dinner? I think Sebastian will be staying long enough for an extra plate,” You asked and smiled when he nodded affirmatively. “Perfect. Now, I have to make haste to the loo before Sebastian knows I’ve been gone for too long.”
After a brisk walk to the restroom in the Room of Requirement and dealing with all the hassle inside, you walked back to the side room. You noticed that Sebastian had sat on the sofa and taken a liking to the book you left on the table.
“Grimms’ Fairy Tales?” Sebastian asked as he flipped through the pages of the book. You should have known that the adamant book lover would be interested in an unknown title sitting right in front of him, but you could not help but become embarrassed. Muggle stories were what you grew up with and ones you loved dearly, especially the ones that ended as sweetly as the authors could muster.
“Yeah, they’re muggle stories about fake magic and happy endings,” You informed, sitting down on the sofa you were so previously sleeping on. You let your hands rest on your thighs, feeling blood rush to your cheeks as you picked at your nails.
“So what’s your fascination with them?” His eyes danced across the pages, soaking up the stories as well as he could as he skimmed through them. When an immediate reply never came, he glanced over at you to see you bashful. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
You quickly glanced up at him and shook your head in something akin to assurance. “No, it’s just, these stories are really comforting to me. Happy endings and everything, you know? While some of them are darker than others, the promise of love is nice to read,” and under a softer breath, you mutter, “something that I wish was promised to me.”
Silence was met with your confession, causing you to pick at your nails again. It was embarrassing for you to have something so personal laid out to someone, Sebastian no less. He was the prince you daydreamed into these stories, and having him know even the slightest notion that you liked something so sappy made your nerves haywire. But before you could change the subject or talk about anything else, he asked you a question.
“Do you have a favourite?”
The question took you aback and made you ponder. Some of these tales you fancied more than others, especially the ones that were syrupy sweet but one stood out to you. Your eyes danced away from your hands to his, looking at the strong ones that held onto your love-worn book.
“Rapunzel,” you replied softly as you continued to keep your eyes trained on the book and his hands. “The prince was called to her through her song, and did not care for her specialness; rather, her person. Even through separation and loss of sight, he found her and married her. She gave back what he had lost through their reunion and they lived happily ever after. You can read it if you want, I have the first page’s corner folded. It’s a quick read.”
Sebastian let out a hum, looking away from you to the book in his hand and easily found the page that was doggy-eared. A softer quiet overtook the room as he read the tale, eyebrows furrowed as he paid as much attention to the story as he could. When he finally finished and let the entirety of it wash over him, he glanced back at you to see you looking at him with anticipation.
“Did you like it?” You asked, hands now pulling at a loose thread on your gown.
“I can see why you like such,” Sebastian replied, leaving the book open in his hands. “I bloody dislike the mother though.”
You laughed, breaking whatever tension was held in your shoulders. “Can I know as to why?”
“She’s utterly daft,” He astonished, physically taken aback by the fictional character’s actions. “Why would she force her husband to mess with the most feared enchantress in the world? Or live near her, for that matter? That woman was begging for trouble as soon as she let them move there.”
That caused you to laugh again as you nodded your head in agreement. “I guess that is true. I certainly wouldn’t want to move next to the most powerful enchantress in the world.”
“I guess no one should move next to you then,” He joked, causing you to flush. While it was true that you possessed rare magic and was deemed the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’, that in no way meant you were the strongest witch — at least to you.
“In no way am I the most powerful witch,” You said with a disbelieving giggle.
“Why are you laughing? It’s true,” Sebastian told, a look of disbelief on his face. “Do you not believe that?”
“Sebastian, I’m almost certain that is not true. I mean, even Natty has me beat with being an Animagus,” You shook your head at the notion, feeling your self-doubt and insecurity creep up your back. While it is true that your magic is rare and powerful, as proven by the trials, it still did not make you anywhere near what the boy was implying.
“Oh come on. You could master that in a second if you wanted to, and I don’t see Natty taking down Poacher camps by herself,” He informed, looking as if he could not believe what you were saying.
“I’m sure she could if she tried,” You countered and before either of you could reply, Deek came bustling through the corridor with two trays floating with him.
“Deek brought dinner!” The house elf exclaimed, letting his magic set the two trays on the table before turning to you. “Deek also brought an ice bag and some extra sweets,” With a snap of his finger, an ice bag appeared in his hands and a plate of sugary desserts was on the table, handing you the bag carefully. “Let Deek know if either of you need anything else,” He then walked away from where he came, back into the main room.
“What’s the ice pack for?” Sebastian asked, eyeing the bag as you shifted around. You lifted your gown’s skirt, causing him to clam up a little before watching you put the ice on your ankles.
“I swell during Mother Nature’s course sometimes, and ice really helps with the pain,” You said, letting your legs relax as you looked over at the trays on the table. You noticed that each tray looked vastly different, even though two of them were your dinners. The tray you assumed was Sebastian’s had roasted beef, boiled potatoes and peas with a healthy amount of gravy poured on top of it while yours looked easier, if that was a way to explain it. Your stomach was queasy during this time and could handle some foods better than others. On your plate was a vegetable stew, a bowl of pomegranate seeds and crusty bread that seemed to be the perfect piece for dippage. The last tray was an assortment of desserts from chocolate cake to apple tarts, being a somewhat sensible looking dessert tray. “Yours is the roasted beef.”
“I didn’t know this affected you so badly,” He admitted, eyes trained on your now covered ankles. “When Anne goes through this, she’s usually cranky but that’s the brunt of it. At least, from what I could tell.”
“I’m just unlucky in this department,” You joked, reaching over to your tray and breaking off a piece of the bread to dip in your stew. When you noticed that he was still focused on your ankles, you nudged him with your shoulder. “Eat before it gets too cold.”
Sebastian tore his eyes away and set the book he was still holding down on the cushion before picking up the cutlery on the tray. His eyes seemed whirling as he took a bite of potato, opening his mouth to speak as soon as he finished swallowing. “I could massage them for you, your ankles I mean. Circulation is supposed to help with all of that.” You almost choked on your bread as soon as his words hit your ears, watching him take another bite nonchalantly.
“I-It’s okay. I don’t think you need to do all of that,” You breathlessly replied, feeling your cheeks redden and looking down at the swollen part of you. You could imagine his large warm hands on your swollen joints, nimbly moving his fingers as he helped relieve the pain and uncomfortableness that had built there.
“It took a lot of trouble to get here, might as well make it worth my while,” Sebastian said as if it did not cause your whole world to tilt. You could not believe how unfazed he was at what he was proposing to you.
The two of you were not shy when it came to physical touch with a multitude of hugs, shoulders brushing and hands lingering but nothing this intimate. This was borderline domestic and if you did not know any better, it made him sound like he was your boyfriend.
Which he definitely was not.
“Well, if you want to so bad,” You muttered, seeing if he would retract his statement or make it seem like it was some joke the entire time.
Yet, it never came.
The rest of dinner was in comfortable silence as your mind reeled at what he suggested. It was ludicrous and in no way felt real to you. So, when you both were done with dinner and he was suddenly hoisting your ankles up to his lap, you let out a surprised squeal.
“Sebastian!” You protested, feeling yourself flush up again for the millionth time as his hands moved the ice bag out the way to reach your swollen ankles. Another exclamation was at the tip of your tongue, but once he started to move his hands and knead the joints, all your objections flew out the window. The sensation was otherworldly as you relaxed in his touch and into the cushions, feeling everything loosen.
“Told you it would be worth it,” He commented as he continued to work on your ankles, hands sometimes wandering to massage the ends of your lower legs. Never did he wander too far or accidentally do something outwardly forward, keeping his touches appropriate; or, as appropriate as they could be.
“I suppose so,” You relented, cheeks still rosy as you glanced at his face, only to see him looking at you. When your eyes met, it felt like the air stilled and all the wind left your lungs.
His gaze was strong, unwavering as he looked at you with something fierce. It was borderline predatory as possessiveness seemed to swim in his irises. It took all the strength stored inside you not to jump on top of him and snog him into the next millennia. So, you slowly exhaled and looked back down at his working hands, bottom lip getting caught by your teeth. His hold on you tightened a little and before you knew it, his hands were no longer on your ankles.
The question you had died in your throat because your upper half was being pulled up towards him, and you realized his hands had moved to your hips. You could feel his short breaths fan over you, smelling the pumpkin juice he drank with his dinner as it made you acutely aware of what might be lingering on yours. His eyes stared darkly and let his hands stay on your hips. You were at a loss for words. You did not know what possessed him to pull you close or how you could say anything without sounding like a blubbering mess.
“Do you know what you do to me?” Sebastian asked, gaze raking up from where his hands grabbed at your hips to your widened eyes. His expression was one you have never seen before and it caused something deeper to rush inside you, making your fingers grasp harder at the cushion underneath you while your breaths became sharper.
“Sebastian, I —” His lips eagerly pressed into yours. It was harsh and uncoordinated, but his soft lips were on yours and all you could do was melt. Your hands grasped onto his arms as you kissed him back, feeling absolute euphoria swirl inside you. You could not believe it. Sebastian was kissing you and you were kissing back. And then he nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp and his tongue was on yours.
Your mind wandered to the thought of the amount of girls that it must have taken for him to snog you this well and a bud of insecurity budded inside of you. It’s not like you were a prude, but in no way were you as experienced as him. You have heard of the rumors spreading throughout the halls of him and a random girl stumbling out of some random broom closet or leaving the Three Broomsticks with a hand on a waist as they drunkenly giggled away. You’ve only had a few cheeky kisses here and there, none of them serious and none of them as deep as Sebastian was going now.
It was when his hands started to wander that you felt yourself freeze, pulling away to stop it from going further. And when he looked at you in confusion, your insecurity was in full bloom. Realization hit you that the Slytherin boy was most likely just caught in the moment and was more than happy to get his prick wet, not too caring about who it was with.
You quickly clambered out of his hold, already missing the warmth and solidness that being so close to him gave you. Your eyes were trained on the floor as fixed your gown, feeling tears well in your eyes. “I’m feeling quite tired now, so, uh, I’m going to retire for the night now. Deek can walk you out,” The words came out clipped and you quickly excused yourself, hurriedly leaving the room to head up to where you created a bed chamber. You heard him call your name, but all you could do was run away and hide.
Embarrassment and shame flooded you as you tried to listen for his departure. You could not believe what you had just done and what you fell for. Of course he thought you would be an easy lay, friends being easier than finding a stranger. It stung though. Your emotions were everywhere and you could not stop the tears that started to fall down your cheeks.
“Deek just let Sebastian out,” The house elf informed loudly, almost sensing your anticipation for the boy to leave. You moved from your spot in your bedroom and wandered back down the stairs, to where Deek was. “Can Deek ask why you’re crying?”
You let out a breathy laugh, wiping the tears streaming down your face as you sat on one of the last steps. “It’s stupid and dumb.”
“Deek does not think anything making you cry is stupid or dumb,” Deek said, giving your shoulder a comforting pat. “Deek is here to comfort you if you need it.”
“Thank you, Deek,” You said honestly, feeling more tears well up. “I just thought that maybe he liked me back, but I think he only sees me as his bumbling friend.” The admittance of that aloud caused something to crack in your chest. It was true and there was nothing you could do about it. And before you knew it, your head was buried between your knees as you cried harder. Your heart was breaking.
A hand comfortingly rubbed your back as you cried, being as pacifying as he could be, “Deek promises to never let that boy back in here.”
It caused you to laugh and pull your head away from your knees, blearily looking up at the elf. “There’s no need, Deek. I just need to get over myself,” You said somberly, wiping the wetness on your cheeks as you composed yourself. “I think I really am going to go to bed now. I’m sorry about the mess I left in the other room. Usually I clean up after myself better.”
“Deek knows that and you do not need to worry. Deek does not mind cleaning up,” He gave you a smile and stepped back to let you stand. “Deek wishes you sweet dreams.”
“Thank you, Deek, for everything,” You mustered the most sincere smile you could after crying enough to form a pain behind your eyes before turning around to wander back up to your bed.
Everything hurt and when you changed into your nightgown, you could only crumble under the sheets once you laid down. All of the events when it was supposed to be an uneventful day made your entire life off-kilter. None of it was supposed to happen and your emotions were supposed to be suppressed until you found someone else that could give you a small semblance of what you felt towards Sebastian. You two were supposed to be kindred souls, but all of those promises felt so minute. So, you willed your thoughts away as you tried to fall into a dreamless sleep.
You know you have been ignoring him. After you finished your week of agony, you were forced back into the real world and did your utmost not to see Sebastian.
It was harder than you thought.
Of course you two had to schedule as many classes together as you could, even choosing seats that were next to each other so you could giggle and bicker as much as the professors could allow. Your solution to this, however, was to change seats — even deciding to sit next to know-it-all Everett Clopton and overly flirtatious Leander Prewett. You tried not to notice the tick when he clenched his jaw and the mix of confusion and hurt when your seat lay bare next to him. It was difficult, but needed. You needed to steel yourself before you could face him again.
Hanging out with friends was also much more difficult than you thought. Even when chatting with Natty, Poppy or Imelda, they mentioned the missing man or informed you that he came asking about you. One time, the Gryffindor told you that she invited him to your small study hangout and you promptly left, owling her later that you were still not comfortable seeing him. They all took the hint after that and stopped bringing him up.
Ominis was even harder to reach, Sebastian practically glued to his side every time you wanted to be near him. You understood that he was his friend first, but it still hurt not being able to confide in one of your dearest friends about everything. He was one of the only people that could understand what was happening, yet he was just too far.
Your circle of friends became even smaller, making you coop up in the Room of Requirement even more. Deek never mentioned of Sebastian trying to visit and you never asked. You were too scared to find out. Instead, you tended to your beasts and busied yourself with perfecting different potion recipes. Anything instead of thinking about him or what he may be doing, who he may be doing. You could not drive yourself mad.
This charade of sorts continued for two weeks. You got used to Nerida’s endless mermaid talk and Leander’s utter persistence, sometimes even leaning into his banter a little. It was a newer, lonelier routine, but one you could get used to. One you had to get used to.
Something did change when Ominis approached you when you were heading to the library. “Can we speak in the Undercroft?”
You froze. You had not talked to him since your falling out with Sebastian and you were scared this was a setup. Maybe Sebastian was in the Undercroft and asked Ominis to grab you inconspicuously, wanting to catch you off guard so you would finally face him; or maybe he planned it himself and was asking both you and Sebastian to meet there at the same time, forcing both of you to see each other.
“I promise you Sebastian is not there and is not going to be there,” The blonde assured, sensing the cogs turning in your head. “I just wish to speak to you in private.”
You were hesitant, still worried of what might come of this but you relented. “Let’s go then,” You offered him your arm, leading the way to the disguised cabinet that would lead to the Undercroft below. When you both were standing in the room and the iron gate behind you shut, you turned around and pulled him into the tightest hug you could muster. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” He admitted back, wrapping his arms around your back until you pulled away. “I forgot how to handle Sebastian without you around.”
You laughed and shook your head at his quip. “You did it five years before,” You reminded him, watching him scoff at the notion.
“And it was bloody impossible,” Ominis said back, letting out his own chuckle that sounded so reminiscent. It was almost strange to see him like this. You were not used to seeing someone adamant on forgetting so nostalgic. “I brought you down here for a reason and I sense you might know why — given your previous hesitancy.”
“So I was right to assume it was about Sebastian?” You asked, bringing your eyes down to the ground. While you wished your blind friend would focus on anything else but the missing person in your usual trio, you knew how confrontational he became with things he cared about.
“Why are you ignoring him?” He inquired, giving you a forward look. It was anticipated for him to be so honest, but it still took you aback. The question was beyond difficult to answer for you.
“We kissed,” You admitted sadly, going to sit on top of one of the many boxes in the room. Your hands reached up and rubbed at your face, feeling dark and drippy emotions cling to your skin as they beckoned for your eyes to cry.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ominis asked, perplexed. From the last he heard from you and your feelings, you were still madly infatuated with him, so what you two did should have elated you. Your crush was obvious to anyone who stood near the two of you for longer than five seconds. Which is why a year earlier Gaunt had approached you and outwardly asked if your feelings for the other Slytherin boy were true.
“It was supposed to be. I imagined our first kiss to be magical,” Your words were muffled, head still buried in your hands as you spoke with a choked up voice. “But I could tell. The way he held me, the way he kissed was so driven. It felt like I was being used rather than loved. And when I left, he didn’t chase after me. Not like how princes, true loves are supposed to. Sebastian left and hasn’t searched for me since. So, I’ve been ignoring him.”
You thought admitting your sins were supposed to make you feel light, but all they did was steel the ball of gloom rolling in your head. It was all true and you finally voiced it. That notion alone made bile tickle at your throat and aching tears escape.
“You are ignoring him because he didn’t chase after you?” He tried to confirm, sounding like he was already trying to will away a headache to make sense of it.
“Kind of. I think I need to heal too. He’s my whole world, but I need it to revolve around something else, anything else,” You finally pulled your hands away from your face, wiping at the tears and runny nose. “You know Garreth Weasley is interested in me? I was so far up Sebastian’s arse I didn’t realize that there were others that actually fancied me.”
“But do you like them?” And Ominis’s words shocked you the second time that evening. His question sat heavy, but you responded with the best answer you could muster.
“I could try,” You replied as you looked far away, causing the conversation to pause. You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to form his response.
“I’m sorry to say this, but this doesn’t sound like Sebastian to me. That’s not to say that what you went through didn’t happen, but I’m sure that he has some sort of an explanation to give you. You don’t have to listen to me, but I think you should try to talk to him. At least once,” He brought a comforting hand to the top of your head, petting your hair softly.
“But how can I?” Your tears came back tenfold, feeling the last semblance of the stitches holding you together unraveling. “If I even dared to try, all I would do is run away or get sick all over him. There’s no way.”
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with this,” Ominis said compassionately, continuing to pet your hair as you cried in his robes. “If it makes you feel any better, I once caught him picking his own boogies.”
You let out a breathless laugh, sniffling as you hit his leg. “Gross, Ominis.”
“What? It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He let out his own laugh at your reaction, smiling down at you with endearment.
“Why couldn’t I have liked you? You would be much easier to deal with,” You acknowledged, looking up at him as your tears started to dry up.
“I hate to break it to you, my dear, but that’s just not how love works,” His expression softened, looking at you with hopeful empathy.
“Unfortunately,” You mumbled, sighing and straightening up when he removed his hand.
“I think now would be a good time to call it a night. Wouldn’t want you waking up with puffy eyes,” Ominis tried to joke, cringing at himself as he tried to keep the mood light.
“I guess so. Are you okay heading to the common rooms by yourself?” You asked, sitting up and dusting the dirt off of your skirt. “I have to head to the library and return a couple of Divination books I borrowed.”
“Divination, yeah?” Ominis hummed, thinking of what you might be doing with extra books on the topic. “And of course I’m okay. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. I think that’s the longest we haven’t spoken since you first got here.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. You being Sebastian’s best friend kind of made us collateral damage, but I really am sorry for not trying to reach out to you. I just didn’t know,” There was guilt written all over your face and you looked down at your hands, shame crawling up your spine.
“How ironic, but I forgive you. Do not let it happen again, no matter how ticked you may be at Sebastian,” Ominis ordered, giving you a cheeky yet serious look.
“Yessir,” You joked, saluting even though he could not see it. You were serious about honoring his order though. No longer were you going to ignore one of your bestest friends over a silly boy, even if he was not silly in your heart at all.
“Do you even have your books with you? I never sensed them or a bag on your person,” He queried with his brows furrowed as he turned his head in your direction.
“Watch this,” You pulled a piece of paper out of your robe, unfolding it before grabbing your wand and tapping on it three times. The page started to flutter before turning into three rather large Divination books, quickly stumbling to catch them. “I’ve been meddling with some transfiguration spells to make carrying things around like this easier.”
“You know I can’t see, right?” He sensed your embarrassment, smirking at the slip up you did. “But that is rather impressive. You’ll have to show me how to do it sometime.” Ominis turned to the iron gate that led to the stairs, making his way up to the tower’s corridor. You followed after him, embarrassment still bubbling at your cheeks.
The journey to the library and returning your books was rather uneventful, even watching Peeves mess with a Gryffindor second year as you made your way to your common room. It was one of the most peaceful nights you have had in a while. As you approached the common room’s main area, you paid no mind to who was in it, much more focused on washing your face and laying under your awaiting covers.
Until you heard your name being called.
It made you freeze. The words came out of his mouth and when you slowly turned to look at the culprit, there he stood. The orange hues of the fire danced across his tan and constellated skin, pronouncing his dark features and evidently the dark bags under his eyes. When he called your name a second time, the blood drained from your face and you turned to face the exit, not sparing another glance before bolting away. Another call of your name was heard before heavy steps followed after you.
The chase made your instincts kick in, needing to be as far away from him as you could be. You cursed yourself for not being more equipped by having floo powder or knew the apparition spell better that would teleport you farther than ten meters away. And once you felt the brush of his finger tips against the robes on your back, you ran impossibly faster as you tried to find any flicker of green light.
“Stop running away from me!” Sebastian demanded, hearing his ragged breaths as he continued to chase you but you could not listen. Not when you knew if you stopped, you would have to face what you have been running away from.
A green flicker.
It was a floo flame near the grand staircase, making each step of yours count more. You desperately reached out, hearing him curse as soon as your fingers reached the flames. There was no goal in mind, but once you felt yourself reappear, you could hear chirping insects and small chatter from an inner circle.
You were in Feldcroft.
You let out a huff, pulse still pumping as you walked around the hamlet. It was peaceful with late evening activities as people softly mingled and finished their daily work. You felt yourself calming down, confusion hitting when you looked at the Sallow’s home. You were used to the small and quaint house with old stone, but this was nothing short of beautiful.
The home was larger, a second story added with large windows and beautifully carved in shutters accompanying them. A flora of flowers and herbs surrounded the home, flourishing even better than the ones that were originally in their place. When you wandered closer, you could see a large barn that you clearly do not remember being there before.
“It seems your ankles feel better.”
You whirled around and there he was. Sebastian stood there with reddened cheeks, extra tousled hair and a devilish smirk on his face. He was robeless with a rub-wrinkled button up and dark trousers.
He looked delectable to you, hungrier thoughts running through your mind before snapping out of it when he walked closer to you. The smell of parchment and bergamot filling your senses, causing a tingle to run from your head to your finger tips. You turned back around to the house, feeling heat crawl up your neck as you tried to calm yourself.
“What happened to your uncle’s house?” You walked closer to the home, watching as the ground beneath your feet turn from dirt to stone.
“I did some touch ups on it,” He admitted behind you, humble about the situation. You scoffed at his reaction.
“Some touch ups? You rebuilt the entire thing,” You exclaimed, turning around to see him staring at you. “Why?”
“To make it a home,” Sebastian stated plainly, making you stunned. “Anne, unfortunately, sent me the keys with a note saying it was mine and that the girl I was pining after deserved more.”
That ball in your head started rolling again, making a pit form in your stomach as you took in his words. He crafted this masterpiece for someone he supposedly loves, someone he sought-after — someone who wasn’t you.
“I’m sure she’s going to love it,” You clipped out, keeping it short as you gave a small nod.
“Yeah, she has this thing for loving everything and wanting to take care of everyone, beasts included. So I wanted to give her a space to do so,” Sebastian walked even closer to you and the house, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood in front of you. You could almost taste the lingering butterbeer on his breath. “She once even called me out for my prejudiced views, saying everyone deserves the same love.”
“Wow, and she’s a charmer,” You snarked, becoming more agitated as he kept speaking about whoever she was that you now officially hated. A part of you was craving to climb on top of him, wanting nothing more than to snog him silly while there was another, deeper part of you that wanted to whirl your fist into his face.
“Hey, why are you so vexed? And you’ve been ignoring me,” He said, looking at you pointedly. His brows creased and there was a frown pinching at his cheeks, making him seem like a grumpy kneazle.
“I’m not vexed and I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” You looked down at the ground again, letting the toe of your shoe mess with a loose pebble. You could feel your ears burning, that feeling of being trapped creeping up again as you tried to think of any other excuses to feed him.
“I know that’s not true. Ominous talked to me,” Your head shot up, a small ‘what’ uttering from your lips as you met his eyes and your made-up excuses flew away from your brain. “He told me that you thought our first kiss wasn’t magical, and I’m sorry.”
“What?” You said louder, looking at him as if he grew a third head. “That’s what he told you?”
“That and that I should have chased you that night,” Sebastian said, looking at you skeptically. “Did you talk to him about anything else? I’m getting the feeling now that I’m not getting the truth from either of you.”
You were then alight with anger. That ball rolling around your head began to burn, feeling the once somberness in you turn to indignation.
“You want to talk about truth?” You exasperated, feeling everything in you begin to bubble under your skin. “The truth is, I have been reaching for you for years, and you don’t care! I have been pining and pining, and all I get in return is being felt up while I was vulnerable to you. That’s not fair! I thought you were my prince, my knight-in-shining-armor, my true love. We were supposed to be kindred spirits, but you just wanted to get in my knickers. I have read countless Divination books to make myself believe that we were meant to be — countless star sign comparisons, palm reading quizzes, anything to make me feel like my fantasy was to become truth. But I was wrong. I was wrong about you and your stupid charming face. I felt used that day. Like any other girl you took into some closet or got too drunk with. I showed you everything, I told you things I have never told another soul, and it was all for nothing. You’re my whole world, Sebastian. And all I get in return is finding out that you love some other girl, and you even built a house for her. It’s not fair, Sebastian, none of it is.”
You did not know when hot tears began to stream down your face, but you could feel sobs swarming up in your throat once you were done speaking. Feeling the exhaustion from letting everything out press against your chest. The hamlet had gone quiet from your outburst, half of them already tuning in when the two of you began your conversation but you could not care. There was a need for release, to let the words spill out of you and get thrown all over him.
Hands were on your face, cradling you as they wiped your tears. You tried to push them away, fighting them as you closed your eyes, but they stayed put.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Sebastian whispered, continuing to cradle you after you stubbornly opened your eyes and truly looked at him. “I truly am sorry that you felt that way, but it was not my intention. I love you and only you. You are the girl I’m talking about, and the only girl I have been talking about. Those other flings were nothing, I promise. They don’t compare to you. I didn’t mean to scare you with that kiss, or do anything other than love you. I want to be your knight, your prince, your true love because I am. We are kindred spirits and I’m sorry I made you doubt that. I’ve just been daft enough to wait until I thought I was worthy enough to confess to you. These past few weeks have been torture without you. I could barely sleep without knowing why you wouldn’t speak or even be near me. I love you, I’ve always had.”
Speechless was the only way to describe how you felt. All that rage inside of you cooled, turning into almost nauseating and sappy love. You could not believe it. He was looking at you with such sincerity, such adoration and love that all you could do was slowly lean in and kiss him.
It was soft, slow, meaningful. Your hands found their way to his hair, getting tangled in brown curly locks as you felt absolute euphoria. It was calmer this time, taking away the ache in your heart and replacing it with something much softer. You started to feel complete. And when you pulled away, seeing him look at you as if you hung the entire cosmos, all you could do was kiss him again.
When you pulled away for the second time, you let out a breathless laugh and mumbled, “I think I’m the one who’s daft.”
“You made me worried sick. I thought you hated me. But why did you think I would do that?” Sebastian asked, looking hurt from the connotations you put on the situation.
“Because I couldn’t believe you would kiss me any other way. It was the only thing that made sense to me. Why would you love me?” You spoke honestly, feeling insecure at the insecurities you were telling him.
“Why wouldn’t I love you? I would do anything for you,” And when he gave you the most sincere smile, you knew there was no other truth.
It was after graduation when the two of you officially moved into the home he built. A few of your beasts lived in the house while others were kept in the barn, intermingling with the farm animals that were inherited from the property.
It was quaint and peaceful. Restful after the adventures you had gone through during school, but was also a place where more would happen and grow.
“Did you find the trunk with your skirts in them?” Sebastian called out, walking up the stairs as you searched in the master bedroom. You turned around to see him leaning against the door frame, looking at you with a smirk.
“What’s with that look?” You asked, walking up to him as his hands found your waist.
“I don’t know. Just admiring my soon to be wife, is all,” He mused, grabbing your left hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing the ring on your wedding finger.
It was his mother’s ring. When his parents died, one of the few things Solomon ensured he had was his mother’s engagement ring. The older Sallow man stated that it was family tradition for him to have, to marry the woman of his dreams with. It was endearing and one of the few memories that you knew Sebastian held close.
“Well soon to be husband, we must hurry to find this trunk, or else I’ll have to meet our friends in nothing but my knickers,” You teased, feigning an innocent smile when his expression darkened.
“Now that is a sight no one can see but me, my princess,” Sebastian pulled you impossibly closer, leaning down to press soft kisses on your neck. “We could stay in. Tell them that we couldn’t come due to other things coming.”
You laughed at his crudeness, shaking your head as you pulled away. “Come on, Sebastian. We have to go. If we can’t find the trunk, I’ll just go with this.”
“But come on, wouldn’t this be funner?” He begged, pouting at you while you went to a different unopened trunk, continuing your search for your lost skirts.
“I think you mean more fun, and as tempting as it is, this is the event to announce our engagement,” You told, letting out a sigh of relief when you shuffled some dresses and found the skirts you were looking for. “Now leave so I can get dressed, or else we really will never leave.”
Sebastian sighed dramatically, putting a hand over his heart as he backed out the room. “You wound me.”
“And you need to find the floo powder or else you are flying solo,” You told, walking up to the door with a playful look.
“Fine, fine. A kiss for good luck?” He asked, leaning his face close to yours. You planted a soft kiss on his lips, relishing in the sweet undertones of it before pulling away.
“I love you,” You said sweetly, smiling at him with nothing short of tenderness.
“I love you,” Sebastian said back before turning to walk back down the stairs. “Don’t take too long. You know how Ominis can get when we run late.”
“Of course, my prince,” You closed the door with the dorkiest smile still plastered on your face, turning to get ready as you admired the ring on your finger.
This was your happy ending, and you were certain this was where you were meant to be. No poachers, evil goblins, or insecure hearts could take you away from it.
As soon as Professor Weasley signaled Transfiguration class was over, you were up and moving, weaving through desks with one goal in mind.
Your best friend had missed your first class today—no explanation, just an empty seat at the table where he normally slouched with a smirk and a quill he never used properly. You weren’t sure you wanted to know why he’d skipped. But you still wanted to see him.
Sebastian was still seated, deliberately slow in packing his bag, like he was stalling. Drawing it out on purpose. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he already knew you’d come over, that he was waiting for it. Maybe even hoping for it.
You reached his desk and leaned against it with a practiced ease, propping one elbow behind you, a subtle arch to your back just enough to draw his gaze in case he wanted to look.
You hoped he wanted to look.
Your smile was small, barely there, one that lived more in your eyes than your mouth. The kind of smirk that hinted at trouble. Dangerous.
“Didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you said, voice light, teasing. It was not a complaint, just a jab aimed to get under his skin the way you always knew how to.
“I missed one class,” he replied, looking up at you, but not too fast. Almost as if he was trying not to stare. “Hardly grounds for exile.”
You raised a brow. “I don’t know, Sallow. Seems a little suspicious. Were your causing mayhem without your partner in crime?”
A hand flies over your chest in mock offense, earning a chuckle from the boy.
“And if I was?” He challenges.
You reach into your satchel and pull out a few pages of parchments, holding it up between two fingers. Notes. Neatly written, edges crisp, possibly color-coded. “Then you wouldn’t get these.”
Sebastian blinked. “You took notes for me?”
You gave him a look. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you retorted, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward. “Ominis was going to set them on fire. Something about not deserving them if you don’t care to show up.”
His eyes sparkled then, deep brown catching the slant of afternoon light. It seemed he was thoroughly amazed with the fact that you took notes for him.
Your breath hitched, but you tried to mask it quickly.
“I thought I’d be your academic savior.”
He leaned back in his chair at your quip, arms crossing lazily over his chest. The movement pulled his robes tighter over his frame, but you tried not to notice. Just like he tried not to notice the way your collar had come undone, the fabric loose around your neck after a long day.
You both were failing spectacularly.
“You mean to tell me,” he began, “you spent your precious free time writing out notes to rescue me from academic ruin?”
You shrugged, feeling a slight flush beginning to creep on your cheeks. You brushed imaginary lint from your skirt, trying to regain some sense of composure. “Someone has to stop you from flunking out.”
“So you do like me that much.”
You rolled your eyes, because it was easier than telling the truth—which was, yes.
Yes, you did like him that much.
But he was your best friend.
You shifted just slightly. The angle of your body changing enough to make him sit up a little straighter. You held out the notes and didn’t let go when he reached for them. Your fingers brushed his, just once, and it was like flint striking against steel. A spark that both of you pretended you didn’t feel.
“In your dreams, Sallow,” you said smoothly. “I did miss you arguing with Sharp, though. Something about how many inches should be due next week.”
Sebastian snorted. “I could have talked him down.”
“Or gotten detention.”
He shrugged, reckless and unapologetic. It was one of the reasons you fell for him. Not just the charm and witty remarks—but the way he made everything seem easy, like gravity never pulled quite so hard on him. It was infuriating.
Intoxicating.
Inevitable.
You realized then that your hands were still touching.
One of you should have pulled away, said something clever and meaningless. But instead, your eyes met his, steady, and for a heartbeat you wondered if maybe it wasn’t stupid to feel this way for him.
Then he took the notes, a bit too quickly, shattering that shred of confidence. His fingers fumbled as he shoved them into his bag like they were suddenly too much to hold.
“Thank you,” he muttered.
“Of course.”
A beat.
“Loser.”
His expression softened at the insult, like something in the word, or perhaps the way you said it, had altered his heart once more. It broke the tension, just as you had wanted.
You pushed off the desk, brushing by with a whisper of fabric. If you lingered too long, especially while he was looking at you like that, you’d say something you shouldn’t. something a best friend wouldn’t say.
“See you tonight,” you called over your shoulder, already peeking out into the corridor.
I mean, I do. I was talking to Ominis, because that attentive bastard found out my secret, and he told me to. Said writing things out helped him when he couldn’t say them aloud. And because he’s irritatingly wise, I listened.
But I’m not going to give this to you. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. Because if you ever read these words, if you knew the extent of what you really meant to me, I think I’d actually dissolve on the spot.
Spontaneous combustion via sheer embarrassment.
Here it is anyways.
I am in love with you, Sebastian Sallow.
Not the soft, sensible kind of love, the kind the creeps up gently and asks permission. No, Merlin help me, this is the all-consuming, knock-the-wind-out-of-me, ruin me forever kind of love. The kind that has engraved on my soul, whether I like it or not.
I’m surely going mad.
It’s getting worse. I can’t go a few hours without looking for you in a room, or imagining what you’d say in the middle of class. I miss you before you’re even gone. That’s probably not normal.
Definitely not normal.
Two whole years of this. Two years of being your best friend, of pretending that’s all I wanted. Watching you be reckless and brilliant and infuriatingly charming and telling myself I wasn’t falling in love.
I let you drag me into arachnid infested cave dwellings and up mountains in the pouring rain. I let you talk me into breaking rules and curfews and probably a few laws. I learned the way your brow furrowed when you’re focused. How your voice gets soft when you’re talking to me but don’t realize it.
I know how you laugh when I say something that actually surprises you. How you sing—horribly off-key—when you think no one’s listening, and dance like an idiot in the Undercroft when you’ve had too much of the that terrible honey mead. (Which, for the record, you stole. I was only an accomplice, like most times.)
I know you better than anyone.
Falling in love with you was never part of the plan. I think I would’ve avoided you altogether if I had known this was the outcome. Because now, nothing else compares. And the worst part is, I think you’ll never see me that way. Not really.
You’ll keep teasing me, keep being your impossibly frustrating self, and I’ll keep pretending it doesn’t make me ache in ways I don’t even have words for.
So, this letter—it’s a secret.
A coward’s confession.
Something I will most likely set ablaze the moment I finish it.
—Yours. Always.
P.S. I will have to thank Ominis, because I feel, barely, better.
Sebastian had read that piece of parchment in your elegant scrawl once.
Then again.
And then a third time, just to make sure he hadn’t dozed off in his dorm and conjured it all up in some twisted dream.
It was quiet, Ominis had vanished off somewhere, muttering something about needing peace, and the rest of the boys were still lingering at dinner. He bailed early, knowing that he should probably be responsible, and take advantage of those notes that you had graciously given to him.
Except when he thought of you handing them over—propped up against his desk, giving him that dangerous half-smile, gracious was not the word he would use.
Sebastian dropped onto his bed, grinning to himself. You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t care, but the ink on those pages said otherwise. They were detailed with tiny margin comments that almost felt like whispered jokes.
He pulled the pages from his bag and tossed them onto the blanket in front of him. His intent was noble, skim the outlie and read a line or two, enough to commit one potion recipe to memory before inevitably tossing them aside.
Something slipped from the stack.
A single folded piece parchment, thicker than the rest, slightly creased at the corners.
He frowned, brow creasing as he picked it up. It wasn’t labeled, just tucked between a diagram and an oddly flirtatious doodle of a bubbling cauldron.
It probably wasn’t supposed to be there.
But then he saw his name.
In your handwriting.
His entire body went still, immediately sitting up straighter.
He unfolded the letter slowly, like it might vanish if he moved too fast.
And then he read.
And read.
And read.
By the end, his heart was hammering like he’d just sprinted across the castle. Every word screamed you—sarcastic, stubborn, heartbreakingly vulnerable.
You had written that you had the kind of love he’d only dared imagine in the late hours of the night when everything else was quiet. Confessed the very thing he’d spent months—hell, a year—trying to bury.
Sebastian rubbed at his jaw, staring at the end of the letter, his thumb hovering over the last line.
Yours. Always.
He let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Coward,” he murmured, a smile curling despite the ache in his chest. “You absolute coward.”
You loved him.
And you had no idea that he loved you, too.
That every other girl had paled in comparison since the moment you walked into his life with a smart tongue and a heart bigger than you let on.
And you wrote it down with the intention of burning it.
Sebastian folded the letter carefully, pressed it to his chest for one suspended second, letting himself feel everything.
The realization hit halfway through brushing your hair, your eyes snapping open in horror as your stomach sank. That stupid letter you wrote. The one you poured your heart into like some desperate romantic.
It had been in your bag.
Next to your Potions notes.
You flung yourself across the room like a girl possessed, digging through your bag, once. Twice. Dumping it completely. Then tearing through your belongings like they’d personally betrayed you.
Gone.
It was gone.
And you knew exactly where it went.
A tidal wave of panic surged through your bloodstream, burning hotter than any fever. Not only had you accidentally handed over a soul-bearing love confession, but you’d done it to Sebastian Sallow.
Your best friend.
This was it. The end. The absolute, mortifying, inescapable end. He was going to read it and probably laugh, or worse, pity you.
This was surely going to ruin everything. Your friendship. Your entire existence.
You did the only thing a sane person could do in such a state.
You crawled into bed and pulled the duvet over your head, curled into a mortified little ball, and vowed never to emerge again.
Maybe the blankets would absorb the shame, and if you held perfectly still, Sebastian would forget you ever existed and move on with his life without ever bringing up the letter.
But of course, you weren’t that lucky.
Not even fifteen minutes after the devastating realization, you heard the soft creak of your dormitory door opening.
You went rigid.
Please be a roommate. Please be a ghost. Hell, let it be Peeves. Anyone but—
“…Hey.”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
No no no no—
“I know you’re in here.”
His voice was soft, and amused. Way too smug and far too close for comfort.
When you didn’t respond, he took advantage of the silence.
“You left me a love letter,” he added casually, like that cursed thing hadn’t just detonated your world. A pause. “That I was never supposed to see, apparently. Which, by the way, is rude. Who writes something that romantic and just plans to obliterate it to ash?”
You sank deeper into your cocoon of embarrassment.
Then—fwip.
He grabbed the edge of the duvet.
“Sebastian—no—don’t you dare—”
Too late.
He peeled the covers back in one swift, dramatic flourish, like he was unveiling a piece of art. Your face was flushed to hell, hair sticking up slightly, eyes wide and full of horror. You looked like a startled cat.
He grinned. “There she is.”
You immediately rolled away, yanking a pillow to cover your face. “Get. Out.”
“I will, eventually,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed like he belonged there. “After you come out and face me like a brave girl.”
“I’m not brave. I’m dying.”
“Dramatic,” he chuckled. “Tragic heroine. Very on brand for you.
The pillow smashed harder against your face.
He spoke, softly, “…it was really beautiful. The letter.”
You peaked one eye out, expression wary. Suspicious.
He took that as an opening. Gently, he pulled the pillow away, and worse, worse, reached up and tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, fingertips warm and feather-light against your skin.
“Hi,” he whispered.
Oh no.
“Hi,” you whispered back.
A moment.
“You know I love you too.”
A statement. Not a question. Before you could even fully absorb the admission, he was speaking again.
“Can I kiss you?”
Surely, you stopped breathing.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it was not that.
His eyes searched yours, open, vulnerable, and eager. He needed you to say yes, because he didn’t know if he’d survive if you said no.
You would be a complete fool to ruin this moment.
“Yes,” you answered.
That undid him completely.
He didn’t speak, just exhaled sharply as a mix of relief and desire collided inside of him. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over the line of your jaw while his gaze flicked down to your lips. His breathing was coming in uneven spurts.
Finally, his lips found yours.
It was slow at first, like he didn’t quite believe it was real, that he was kissing the girl he’d been so unbelievably in love with for the last two years.
It deepened in an instant. You made a sound in your throat, helpless and airy that lit something hot inside Sebastian.
His fingers slide into your hair, tilting your head as he kissed you like he’d been craving to. Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer until you bodies met in a soft thump as you tumbled back onto the bed together.
Side by side. Entangled. Still kissing like the world might end if you stopped.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Sebastian rasped against your lips. His mouth trailed down to your neck. “I’m sorry if I’m—fuck—if I’m moving too fast. I just can’t stop…”
His lips pressed a soft kiss to a sweet spot, causing you to let out a sigh.
“Don’t” you breathed. “Don’t stop.”
He groaned low and rough, the sound activating butterflies in your stomach. His hand slid down your side, gripping your hip as he rolled on top, pressing his body flush to yours. A gasp fell from your mouth at the heat of him pressing against you.
“Merlin,” he rasped. “You feel that?”
Oh, you did.
He was hard. Incredibly hard. Heavy against your thigh in a way that made you clench around nothing. You’d imagined this after hours, basked in only dim candlelight, hand between your thighs.
Imagination had nothing on the real thing.
“Yes,” you practically begged, dazed. “Seb...yes.”
He kissed you again, slower, tasting the one thing he thought he’d never get as his hips rolled instinctively. His hands wandered, reverent, exploring you like you were a spell he wanted to master. His lips dipped lower, trailing to your collarbone.
You arched into him with a broken whimper.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, barely audible.
You smiled. “Sebastian, for fuck’s sake,” you teased. “I want you.”
His chocolate eyes darkened, playfulness bleeding into desire.
“Say it again.”
“I want you.”
His mouth was on yours again—hungrier now, desperate in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. It tasted like years of restraint finally unraveling, all soft gasps and tangled fingers, as your bodies moved in perfect clumsy rhythm.
Clothes melted away between kisses and whispered I love you’s, scattered like leaves in the fall. He paused when he reached behind you, unclipping the small clasp and letting your bra come undone in his hands. The straps slid down your arms like silk and he had to take a moment to sit back on his heels, eyes roaming over your bare chest.
“Fuck,” he breathed, one hand sliding down your thigh with shaking fingers. “You’re gorgeous.”
His hand found the edge of your underwear, and you let out a moan when his fingers brushed your inner thigh. He froze, breath catching in his throat like the moment had stolen the air from him.
“Bloody hell…” he murmured, voice wrecked. His finger gilded higher, just barely grazing over the soaked fabric clinging to you. A low sound rumbled deep in his chest. “You’re so wet.”
Your hips tilted towards him without thought, your blush deepening.
“I can’t help it,” you replied. “It’s you.”
His forehead pressed to yours, eyes closing as he tried to keep control.
“I’ve thought about this,” he admitted. “All the fucking time. What you’d sound like. How you’d feel under me…” he paused to open his eyes. “Around me.”
You whimpered at the last part, thighs trembling as slick pooled between your legs. He was going to be the end of you.
Sebastian did not waste another second. He pushed your panties aside and finally touched you.
His fingers were warm and sure, the pad of one brushing over your clit with delicate precision, and you let out the softest, sweetest cry.
“Gods,” he murmured, dragging his fingers through your slick, coating them, “You’re drenched, love. Absolutely soaked for me.”
“For you,” you gasped, clinging to his shoulders, nails leaving tiny crescents into the muscle. “Please…”
He didn’t make you beg twice. He started to rub slow, steady circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out sounds you didn’t know you could make.
Then he pushed a finger inside.
“Oh—!”
He paused only to check your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. When all he found was satisfaction plastering your expression, he added a second finger, curling them expertly until he found that spongy spot that made you whine.
He worked you gently, lovingly, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from you until you were shaking beneath him. He was panting watching you, his arousal painfully obvious through his boxers.
Sebastian needed to be inside you.
His fingers slipped out, and he kissed the whine from your lips. He tugged down the thin fabric of his boxers, tossing them aside. He sprung free, all of him.
You gulped. He was big, throbbing and leaking at the tip from how badly he needed you.
You pulled your panties the rest of the way down, chest rising and falling rapidly.
For a fragile second, panic fluttered in your stomach.
He noticed. Of course he did. He always did.
“Hey.” His voice was soft as he reached for your cheek, thumb brushing the skin. “It’s okay. We don’t have to—”
“No,” you interrupted quickly. “I-I want to. I’m just… nervous. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He smiled, warm, and pecked the tip of your nose.
“It’s okay,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you.”
He shifted, body slotting perfectly between your thighs. His hand guided himself to your entrance and he leaned down, lips pressing gently along your temple, down your jaw, over the shell of your ear.
“You’re going to take me so well.”
His tip nudged against you—teasing—and then he pushed in, sliding in easily.
A cry left your lips at the sensation, new and intense. He moved slowly, watching your face with care, giving you time. Your hands clawed at his back, leaving tiny half-moons he’d treasure later.
“Sweetheart,” he moaned, mouth parted in stunned bliss, “you feel so perfect. So fucking perfect.”
His hips stilled as he bottomed out, letting you breathe. He kissed your shoulder, trying to prove just how precious you were to him.
“Please, Seb,” you said breathless, biting your lip.
He pulled out nearly all the way, then slid back in, deep and unhurried. Your body welcomed him, desperately. You moaned at everything he gave you, and he swallowed the sounds, rolling his hips deeper each time.
You both laughed through one misaligned kiss, still panting through another wave of pleasure.
It was slow. Beautiful.
Two souls, finally connecting in the way they had been yearning to.
And fuck did it feel like heaven.
“Sebastian,” you gasped, voice cracking as he hit a spot that made your toes curl.
He groaned your name in return, thrusts turning a little messy.
“I’m not going to last,” he confessed. “Not after wanting you for so fucking long.”
You cupped his face, pulling him close. “I’m right there.”
That shattered him.
He thrust harder, hips stuttering as your walls clenched around him.
“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, trembling, stars blooming behind his eyes.
He spilled into you with a strangled groan, hips grinding to prolong the pleasure as you moaned beneath him, your own orgasm ripping through you.
Sebastian collapsed over you, heart hammering, your legs still wrapped tight around his waist. For a long moment, neither of you spoke—just clung to each other, panting, kissing lazily, mouths brushing as you caught your breaths.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “That I didn’t last.”
You smiled, dazed and thoroughly wrecked, tracing your fingers through the sweat-damp hair at the nape of his neck. “You were perfect.”
His laugh was breathless, and completely in love. He kissed you again gently, because he could.
☕️ + your opinion on the “if not for me then for anne” line 👁️👁️
Hello, 🥰I love this question, and I may have got a little carried away with my answer! 😅 Which probably won’t surprise anyone who reads me regularly! 😂 I just hope it won’t come across as too confused. In any case, thank you for asking. (As usual, this is only my personal interpretation, and you’re completely free to have a different one.)
To me, the line “if not for me, then for Anne” is very powerful because it expresses so much in so few words.
It is, at the same time, pressure placed on MC, a way for Sebastian to escape the judgement being placed on him, and a form of self-effacement.
It is even rather unhealthy, because it turns love into leverage and blurs the line between asking, insisting, and guilt-tripping: if MC refuses, it can feel as though they are refusing to help a sick, doomed girl. That is a very hard thing to carry. 💔
But at the same time, I don’t feel that he does it in a cold or calculating way. I see it more as the words of a desperate teenager who no longer knows how to make his suffering heard otherwise.
Within his family, Sebastian doesn’t really seem to have any space where he can say: “I’ve already lost my parents, and I’m terrified of losing my sister too”, “I’m suffering”, “I can’t bear to just stand by and do nothing.” I also imagine he doesn’t want to burden Anne with his own distress when she is already suffering so much.
As for Solomon, with whom Sebastian has always had a conflicted relationship, he mostly responds with prohibition, discipline, resignation, and guilt. Solomon, whom I see as unfit to raise children because he has too many demons of his own to deal with, offers him no safe emotional framework. He does not even seem to recognise Sebastian’s distress as legitimate.
He never really shows empathy for his nephew, whom he does not see as a grieving orphan, but as “his father’s son” - the son of a man for whom he still feels animosity, even after his death. Solomon never has a single word of comfort for Sebastian. Instead, what does he tell him? That his efforts are useless, naïve, and even harmful.
And the Shrivelfig scene illustrates that perfectly, imo. To me, it was a naïve but rather sweet attempt to relieve Anne’s pain, even if only temporarily. Even if the remedy’s effectiveness was laughable, it was not dangerous. On the contrary, Anne seemed genuinely touched by the gesture, and Sebastian could, for a brief moment, feel useful in circumstances where he is mostly forced to face his own helplessness.
But Solomon completely destroys that dynamic by crushing the shrivelfig in front of them. In doing so, he does not merely destroy an ineffective remedy: he destroys a gesture of love and comfort between the twins. And their faces in that moment break my heart every time I rewatch the scene. 😭
Because of his uncle, and probably other adults to a lesser extent, Sebastian has internalised the idea that his own pain does not really have value. When he speaks on his own behalf, he is seen as impulsive, stubborn, insolent, or dangerous. So, with “if not for me”, he erases himself. It is almost as if he were saying: “Fine, don’t do it for me, if my suffering is not legitimate enough for you.”
Then, with “then for Anne”, he places his sister at the centre of everything, because Anne is the only reason others are supposed to accept. And by doing so, he also shifts the grounds of judgement: it is no longer only him, his relentlessness, his choices, or his methods being judged, but Anne’s suffering and the possibility of saving her. Any criticism of Sebastian can then be presented as a lack of compassion towards her.
I also think Anne represents everything he is in the process of losing: his family, his hope, his sense that he still has some control over things. If he fails, it is not only Anne who dies; he also has to accept his helplessness, his grief, his guilt, and probably the idea that he failed to save the last person who truly remains of his family.
And that is precisely why the dynamic with Solomon is so important. By refusing to support him emotionally through this ordeal, Solomon does not calm Sebastian down: he radicalises him. Sebastian ends up believing that if he follows the adults’ rules, Anne will die. From then on, every boundary becomes suspicious, including those drawn by Ominis, his best friend. Every prohibition, every refusal becomes proof of cowardice, ignorance, or abandonment, hence some of his bitterest and most cutting replies.
When Sebastian says that line, he is already caught in a dangerous mindset where intention justifies everything. “It’s for Anne” has become an answer to every objection, even the most justified ones. ⚠️
And that is part of what makes Sebastian so interesting to me: he is neither a monster nor an innocent victim. He is a sensitive, impulsive teenager, trapped in an unbearable situation, trying to get through it without any real support, making bad choices, and becoming increasingly unfair and guilt-tripping in the way he asks for help.
Little rant, because apparently, in 2026, this still needs repeating:😤😤😤
If you love artists’ work, STOP reposting their art on Pinterest, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter/X, or any other platform without their permission.
Seriously. Stop!
The fact that an artist knows their work is circulating elsewhere does not mean they are okay with it. It only means they are aware of it. There is a difference. Sometimes they know because someone told them, because they stumbled across it by accident, or because they have already seen their art reposted so many times that they no longer have the energy to chase after every single person who decides to help themselves. That does not mean consent!!!
And no, crediting is not enough. “Credit to the artist” is not a magic spell that turns an unauthorised repost into a respectful gesture. Putting the artist’s username there does not suddenly give you the right to move their work wherever you like. If you have not asked, and if the artist has not said yes, you do not have permission. It really is that simple.
And stop with the “visibility” argument. Artists are not lost children waiting for some stranger to generously manage their online presence for them. If they wanted to post on Pinterest, TikTok, or anywhere else, they would do it themselves. If they do not, maybe it is because they do not want to, for reasons that are none of your business!
Incredible concept: artists have the right to choose where their work appears. Wow!
You are not helping them. You are taking control of their own work away from them. You are moving their work out of context, diverting attention away from their original account, and sometimes collecting likes, views, or followers thanks to something you did not create. And then you call that support? No. That is not support. That is appropriation.
Do you really love a piece of art? Reblog the original post, share the link, comment, like, recommend the artist’s account…Ask for permission before reposting. And if you do not get an answer, the answer is no.
Loving a piece of art does not give you rights over it. Admiring an artist does not authorise you to decide on their behalf. And “but I just wanted to share” does not erase the fact that you did it without consent.
Respecting artists is not just about liking their drawings when it suits you. It also means respecting their boundaries, their choices, their work, and their right to decide where their art exists.
So no: do not repost without permission.
Even with credit, “for visibility” or even if you think you mean well.
Ask. Or don’t do it.
P.S. And obviously, this applies to all creative work, not just art: writing, photography, edits etc., anything else someone created. If it is not yours, you do not get to decide where it is reposted.
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