Marlene awoke in a sweat, her breath coming out as ragged gasps. Instantly, she shot up from her bed and scrambled onto the floor of the hotel room, hoping the rough surface would bring her back to reality. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Her back was pressed against the side of the bed, pressing her palms against her eyes, scrubbing desperately at the tears that had fallen without her permission. She hated this, hated everything about it. Marlene McKinnon was not weak, did not tremble at something as silly as a dream, a memory, something as insignificant as the past.
Yet there she was, trying to bring her heart rate down, to regain her senses. But every time she thought she was in control again, her breath would hitch, throwing her into another panicked fit and suddenly she couldn’t sit still anymore. Having just enough of her wits left to grab her key on the way out, she was running down the hall, ignoring the curses thrown her way after she collided with another drunken patron stumbling to their room.
The night was cold and she was instantly shivering when she stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and set off down the street. At least she’d be able to brush the trembles off on the chilled air. There was no rhyme to her path, weaving down streets, brushing off lewd comments thrown into the night. She must have looked a wreck, hair messy from what little sleep she’d gotten with only an over sized t-shit and cotton shorts. Shoes had been forgotten in her rush to get away, but still she ran as if being chased because she was.
Demons don’t sleep, especially not the ones manufactured in one’s head through trauma, though Marlene would never acknowledge it as such. Coming to a stop, she pressed her forehead against the brick of a building, the cold helping to clear her thoughts enough to remember that running around without shoes at night was a bad idea. Her family would freak out if they knew where she was, Marcus especially. Always worried, always trying to protect everyone even from silly things like the cold. But as her shivering intensified, she knew she needed to get somewhere warm.
Her hotel room was out of the question, she didn’t want to go back, as if that bed had been the cause of her fear. There was no way she’d let Marcus see her in such a state, nor Alice or Lily. The list only went on: Amos, Sirius, Gilderoy, Andromeda. The well-meaning people in her life were the most likely to be subjects to Marlene lashing out, too surrounded by questions that dug into fresh bruises. The concern was as charming as it was repulsive. But Edgar, Edgar didn’t push her into corners and before long, she found herself staring at the door to his flat, nails digging into the palms of her hands, telling herself to calm the fuck down before she knocked. Once, twice, then a third time before she heard footsteps.
Marlene didn’t want to think about how she looked when Edgar answered the door, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The perfect image of someone who had fallen from grace and hit the ground too hard, licking at their own wounds in an attempt to heal them without anyone noticing. Her eyes were red, puffy and half-lidded, her bottom lip had been chewed to hell and back until copper burned her tongue and she was shaking, shoe-less, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Can I come in?” Her voice sounded as terrible as she felt.
Suddenly she was being ushered inside, his hands felt as though they were searing through the flesh on her shoulders as he guided her, demanding to know what had happened. And how was she supposed to answer that? Rather than respond, she shook her head, forcing herself to smile, even if it was just a little. “You know me. I’m always a mess.” Rarely this much of one, sure, but a wreck of a girl all the same. “Marlene, it’s four in the morning an-where are your shoes?” Again, she simply shook her head at his question. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Do you mind if- can-” Gnawing on her lips again, she sighed, looking down at his feet.
“Can I stay the night? With you?” Vulnerable, Marlene hated it, hated the edge of desperation in her voice, hated that despite the warmth of the apartment, she was still shaking. “What? Of course. You must be freezing.” Not really. Her feet had gone numb a while ago, but she nodded all the same, taking the opportunity to wrap herself around Edgar. “But you’re warm,” She breathed, pressing her forehead to his sternum. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Repeating her statement from earlier, she closed her eyes. Every bone in her body felt heavy, weighing her down. “Can we just go to bed?”
It was rare that Marlene asked for permission to do anything, but this was a new kind of invasive for her, extending her problems onto someone else. For all her faults, fear was something she tried to keep to herself. Settled into Edgar’s bed, there was a voice reminding her to stop making homes out of people. She ignored it, only folding herself further into Edgar’s chest. Wrapped in the blankets and shoved into his arms, Marlene felt safe, content. For once, she was silent, her hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt in a way that made it clear she never wanted to let go. “You’re not going back to sleep, are you?” He asked and Marlene shook her head in response.
“I hate this.” The loathing in her voice was clear, even as she spoke in a whisper. “I know. I’ll stay up with you.”
