when the doorbell had first rang, he had thought he was hearing things at first. who would be out at night in this storm? still, he went to investigate and when he peeked out of the window he saw the back of aurora de bourbon’s head beginning to descend down the stairs. no, he didn’t want her to leave! he had to know why she had come or else it would keep him up at night wondering. quickly, he opens up the door before she can fully disappear into the darkness. it surprised him so much that she was here that all sense left him until she spoke up. she had to see him? why? these were questions he would ask inside out of the rain. even in the dim light flooding from the house, he could see that she was completely soaked from head to toe. no doubt she was shivering from the cold too. “ ye must be freezin’. come inside an we can talk. “ he sheds the hoodie he had been wearing in the house and walks down the steps to her, wrapping the dry clothing around her before beginning to usher her into the house. once they’ve both stepped over the threshold, he closes the door behind them then turns towards her. her clothes are dripping on the floor but that’s not what bothers him, it’s the fact that she might catch a cold from being in wet clothes. “ ye’re soakit tae th’ bone, blondie. mibbie ye can fit intae somethin’ o’ harriet’s or mine. wait here. “ harry doesn’t wait for her response and it doesn’t even cross his mind that he’s leaving a true villain kid alone in his house - his house full of expensive trinkets. he runs up the stairs to his room and grabs a t-shirt of his and sweatpants. they’ll be big on her but they’ll have to do. when he comes back, he presents the clothes to her with a soft smile. “ they’ll be a wee bit big but it’s better than catchin’ a cauld. thare’s a bathroom richt aroond th’ corner thare. “
come inside and we can talk. aurora initially dreads what will follow even as harry wraps his jacket around her and guides her through his door; somehow, she’s convinced that he’s mad at her for showing up here. why wouldn’t he be? she’s asking for help, whether he knows it or not. he probably has his own things going on... she’s so consumed in her thoughts that she barely registers her surroundings until harry has disappeared, and then she takes in what she can of his home. spacious. clean. large... and pretty. there’s so much white and blue... how does it not get dirty? the sight of it makes her nervous, knowing just how hard the fireplace would be to clean if that were her own home; she’s used to being treated as the maid by her father. she’s then conscious of just how much of a mess she’s making in this spotless home. you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here... aurora’s heart is racing when harry reappears, considering whether to just flee. that’s when harry appears, stopping her in her tracks again, and it’s then that she notices the clean clothes in his arms. right --- he’d gone to get her dry clothes. they look cosy and without holes. it’ll be even better if they’re his, but aurora doubts harry will want to give her his own stuff. it’s probably expensive... and special... and not at all fit for her.
her lips part in an attempt to apologise, to give an elaborate explanation of why she came here and why her reasons are perhaps a little justified, but nothing comes out. instead, she tries to force her lips into a grateful smile. it doesn’t quite meet her eyes, but she’s trying for him. ‘ thanks. ’ aurora takes the clothes from his arms somewhat hastily, and with her gaze lowered, she says, ‘ i’m sorry, ’ before she disappears around the corner harry had mentioned before. bathroom, bathroom... she finds the right door, steps into the room and closes it behind her swiftly, and the click of the lock follows instantly after. she has to take a moment to breathe, her back pressed against the door, and she has to try her hardest to ignore the cleanliness ( as well as the tidiness ) of the bathroom lest it send her into another self-hating panic on top of the one she’s currently feeling. she spends far too long in the bathroom merely composing herself, as well as an extra minute basking in the comfort of his clothes. so warm, so cosy... they’re like the furs she sleeps under at home. when aurora is done, she bundles up the wet clothes in her arms, as well as harry’s hoodie, and all that remains soaking wet are her socks.
she glances back at her boots, unable to carry everything, as she cackhandedly opens the door leading back to the hallway. when she spots harry, it’s... a little easier for her to smile this time, although there’s a sickly feeling in her stomach as if she doesn’t belong. ‘ hi, i --- sorry, i left my boots in the bathroom. i can move them if you want. but, um, could i set my clothes before the fireplace? i’m not sure how long they’ll take to dry, but i should be, um, out of your hair soon enough. sorry. you’re probably busy. but your, uh, your clothes --- are they yours? either way, they’re really comfy. i could fall asleep. are they pyjamas? ’ maybe she’s rambling a little...
