... madly... deeply
A response to still
@independentcho
How she always sensed when he made some sort of progress in moving on without her, seemed to be her greatest magical feat.
Mal had, after all, finally retired his wedding ring and hired a muggle interior decorator to begin erasing the maddening traces of Cho from the manor. He’d also somehow managed to accidentally invite an insane woman into his life who enraged him enough to allow moments of memory loss about the witch who’d gotten away.
There were, admittedly, too many bed and breakfasts to remember, yet not one of his dalliances was offered the opportunity to meet his children or was invited to the Wiltshire manor which he still, in his heart of hearts, considered home.
Westley was ill and aging and though he’d hired the best veterinarian, old age was something even the Man in Black couldn’t escape. Gracelyn and Leo were only allowed to stay long enough to do their homework, have dinner and dessert before they took the floo back to her.
The fox had disappeared into the woods in search of Katie and her buggering creepy Dementia. The guest cottage was empty and quiet what with Bell’s children gone off, too. it was quiet and he was lonely. While firewhiskey flowed liberally, it wasn’t drink or nicotine in which Malcolm overindulged. He, instead, spent countless hours with his head swimming in the memories of married life stored in his penseive.
Work was the only place where Malcolm knew himself and felt in complete control. And lately, he’d felt in control.
It was the call from Leo’s headmaster that pulled him from his office, which was his only real respite from the memories of her. It was maddening to think how poorly his ex-wife thought of him as a father. Mal did admit, however, he had little to show of parenting abilities. But, oh how proud of his son Malcolm was at hearing of his accidental magic. Further, Cho had allowed Mal near while they sat in that office. And with typical Slytherin wile, Malcolm took advantage of the opportunity to help her remember who he was. But then the meeting was over and the safe space was gone, he’d reached and snagged her wrist in the sun-dappled hallway. It was a significant moment that shattered with her familiar words,”Malcolm… have to g–”
The predictability of her move to farewell was laughable and he couldn’t help sharpen the edge of his wry amusement with his reply. “Still avoiding me, are you?”
“You know, Malcolm,” Cho said, slowly, drawing his attention back to her. “I still wear your ring.”
He waited a beat before he said anything. “…And?”
“And I still think about you,” she said, rising to meet him.
Her words weren’t fair, but with her, they never were.
Malcolm stepped back at her approach, guarding himself against her, the gentlest of weapons that always managed to carve a gaping hole in his heart.
“Do let me know, Cho, when you stop thinking about me and want to start examining why you still wear it.” He sent her a tight-lipped smile that belied little joy. “I have to go.”