Who: Oliver Wood & Alicia Spinnet When: Nov. 3, 2001, evening Where: Home Oliver's flat. What: Discussions that need to be had. Warnings: Emo thoughts? Rating: PG Status: Private/Complete
Lessons had started today. Her first class had been with the most adorable little bunch of Muggle children, all around four years old, and they'd spent the class working on which side was their right, which was their left, and doing some coordination exercises as well as some stretching. It was never too early to start that part.
Her last group...had been a prissy, whiny bunch group of four of twelve year olds who all wanted to track elite. Their old gym had closed down and since this was one was in their neighborhood, they had informed her snobbily, and since they'd heard a recommendation from her old coach (and hadn't that made her flush with pride?) they were willing to take a chance on her.
Little bitches. She'd whip them into shape soon enough; she'd yet to forget the early days of her elite training. They were going to have to put in a hell of a lot of work if they wanted to get where they planned.
As a result, she was fucking exhausted when she got home. To Oliver's. Whatever. Part of her kept telling her that she needed to get her own place (and her mother had told her the same thing when she'd dropped by with lunch that afternoon, informing her that it was 'unseemly'), but the fact was that she just didn't want to. She'd gotten too used to having another warm body in the bed with her, and not just any, but his.
Also, they hadn't talked the night before when he'd come home. She'd punched him in the shoulder, hard, and then collapsed into his arms, crying and not knowing why it hurt her so much to know that he'd gone back to that bint- and not wanting to know why. And then they'd gone to bed, him stroking her hair and making soothing noises and her clinging to him and wishing she didn't need to. No talking though. And she had a feeling that was going to change today.
He'd been harder on himself than normal at training that day, to the point that the coach and Phillbert had both yelled at him to just 'Go the bloody hell home.' He'd been running laps when Phillbert finally came down to the field and threatened to physically remove him, and even though his limbs felt like numb, dead weight, he was sure he could have done just a few more - anything to delay the inevitable that was going home and facing Alicia.
He hadn't minded her reaction. He'd deserved every bit of it. He'd wanted her to hit harder, though, be angrier. He wanted her to yell and curse him and tell him she never wanted to see him again - it was what he expected. Her hurt tears and clinging to him and the pained, aching noise she made against his chest as she cried herself to sleep had hurt him horribly.
Needless to day, he was wary when he stepped into his flat. He had stalled time at the stadium by showering and changing clothes there, and now all he was faced with was her and him and talking - hoping he could some day gain her trust back, even if it was just as friends. He wasn't going to let Kimb fuck with his mind or his life anymore. Oliver peered about his flat, immediately looking for her.
Stepping out of the shower, Alicia wrapped herself in a towel, drying off as best she could before slipping into some of Oliver's thickest sweats. It was starting to get quite cold outside, and she wanted to ward off the chill- she hated being cold. She slid on some thick socks too before picking her towel back up and using it to wring water out of her wet hair.
As she entered the living room, she stopped, eyes widening a bit. He was here. Right there in front of her, and she wasn't really sure what to do or say, so she just waved kind of awkwardly.
"Hey."
"Hey," he answered, trying to give her a little bit of a smile, though it probably came off as awkward as he felt. She looked good in his sweats, which led him down a trail of thoughts he didn't want. Yes, some involved the sex appeal of her in his clothes, but most of them had him thinking about the way his heart leapt to his throat and how he didn't really mind. He swallowed his heart back down, raising an eyebrow at her before stepping back a bit and moving towards the kitchen. He suddenly needed some water.
And he was walking away. Of course he was. Stifling the sudden urge to cry again (and really, what the hell was wrong with her?) she turned away too, heading back into the loo to put some potion in her hair and then braid it. She didn't want it frizzing, and this way it would stay out of her face.
She took her time with that, making it take as long as she possibly could before she exited the bathroom again.
He was sitting on the couch when she returned, empty glass in his hand (he'd downed two in the kitchen alone.) He looked up in an almost startled manner when she reappeared. He swallowed again and glanced back down at his hands, afraid she was going to realize she'd been stupid to stay, or worse, start hitting him and crying again. He didn't mind the hitting, he deserved it, but Christ, he hated to see her cry.
"How was yer day?" he attempted, though he felt stupid for asking. He couldn't imagine her day had been much better than his, but then he felt rotten for thinking that. Maybe her day had been great and it was coming home to him that was crappy - and that made more sense. He hadn't done anything but muck up their friendship, and he was still mucking it up even now.
She shook her head blindly, reaching up to tug at the end of her braid. "I can't do that, Oliver. We can't just make small talk and pretend like everything's all right. It's not." She folded her arms over her chest, hugging them to herself protectively.
"Look, we either need to talk this out or I need to leave. I feel incredibly off-keel and I really don't like it."
He sighed heavily and nodded, feeling worse and knowing he deserved it. He wanted to ask her to come sit by him, but he didn't want her to think he was bossing her around. She was free to do whatever she wanted, to come or go or kick him in the balls. He'd take it.
"Sorry, ye're right," he acknowledged, keeping his hands glued to the glass and his eyes glued to his hands. He worried his lip and wondered what he could say, what she wanted him to say, what he was supposed to say. "I want to talk it out," he said after a moment. "That's the only option for me. I don't want you to leave." He started to say he didn't want her to leave him, but they weren't together and he didn't have a right to be needy with her after the crap he pulled. Why she had even stayed this long was beyond him.
Alicia sighed, tugging hard at the ends of her hair. She really didn't like not knowing what to do, because it wasn't normal for her and it was making her quite uncomfortable. "I don't want to leave either, Oliver," she said finally. "That's the problem."
She started pacing a bit, scrubbing a hand over her face. "I don't want to leave. I've been back from Turkey since September. It's November, and me staying here was only supposed to be temporary." She didn't stop to censor herself, just rambled without thinking about it too much. "And then we started...things, and I just got comfortable here, with you. And the thought of leaving and getting my own place just isn't appealing. And that's not right, because we're not together like that."
"I thought-" he paused unable to watch her nervous pacing. It was making him more nervous than before. He sighed and looked back up at her, his hands twisting around the glass of water. "I thought that's what ye meant. I thought that's why ye wanted tae talk." He'd been thinking about it most of the weekend, thinking that he and Alicia had been supposed to talk about them and whether or not they wanted to 'be together.' He'd tormented himself after the Kimb debacle because he thought he'd ruined their potential before it had even be discussed - and now she was telling him that had never been an option? Was that what she meant?
He frowned, reverting in on himself and looking away. He didn't like that idea at all. He didn't like her wanting to leave, wanting to give up this comfortable easy thing they'd found themselves a part of. He knew if she left that, no matter how hard they tried to pretend differently, they'd be strained. It would be different between them and that was something he'd never wanted.
"If ye dinnae wantae, tha's fine," he said suddenly, far too aware that the thought of her leaving had made his gut clench and his heart jump back in his throat. "I mean, I wanted tae talk about us, but ye're right, we aren't together like that and I've messed up any chances of giving it a go and-" he cleared his throat awkwardly because his voice wavered, so he stood, setting his glass on the table and looking around for the best exit. He'd ruined any chances of them talking about them and he'd probably ruined one of his best friendships and he was rather sure he'd rather jump off a cliff than have to listen to her tell him she didn't want him anymore, as a friend or otherwise. He kept his eyes averted from hers because he was aching and it showed, and he inched away from the couch, towards the more open area of the living room. He had his bedroom, the front door and the floo for options, he just wish he knew which one to take.
"Just-" he wanted to ask her to give him a chance even though he'd fucked up, but he didn't deserve it and she already said that they weren't together like that. "Nevermind. Ye're right. I- I messed up and ye've got every right tae not wantae deal with me anymore." And he was pushing her away - pushing her away because it was easy, because that's what he did. He walked away from girls before they could walk away from him, but it had never gotten this far, and he hadn't felt this horrible about it before. God, when had it all gotten so bad? When had it gone so horribly wrong?
She stopped suddenly, a feeling of dread growing in the pit of her stomach. She felt like she was going to throw up, because he seemed to be looking for an exit, any exit, to get away from her, and wait. Had he said that he wanted to talk about them? As in, then being a them?
"Oliver," she began, voice shaking because she felt like if he walked out of here she would dissolve into tears and possibly not recover. "I never said that I didn't want to 'deal with you' any more. I thought- I thought you didn't want more."
He stilled and glanced back at her, his eyebrow raising as he met her gaze. She looked so scared and vulnerable - she looked how he felt. He took a hesitant step towards her, biting his lip and wondering -
"Do you?" he asked softly, reaching for her before he could stop himself. He lets the tips of his fingers graze hers and he met her gaze, cocking his head a bit and just taking her in. "I- I don't know if - I just..." he sighed and hesitantly took her hand in his. "All I could think about after..." Kimb. He paused and licked his lips. "After everything that happened this weekend was how I'd fucked up one of the best relationships I've ever had in my life b-because you are my friend, one of my best friends, and I had just started to realize the possibility of something more than that." He squeezed her hand for reassurance. "I don't know what wanting more means, but I - I'd certainly like to find out."
Oh. Well. She warred with herself for several moments over what sort of reaction she should allow herself to have and then decided that overthinking things would definitely still be a bad idea. His hand felt really good holding hers like that. That wasn't overthinking, right?
Finally, she exhaled sharply, looking at him with serious eyes for a moment before stepping closer, her arms going around his neck. "Me too," she said quietly, letting her head rest on his shoulder and just enjoying being so close to him. "I don't want to leave, Oliver. And it scares me. But...I want this."
Tentatively, she leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips lightly over his.
He was stunned by her movements - but his arms wrapped reflexively around her as she kissed him. She wasn't leaving. The thought was foreign to him. He'd spent the better part of the weekend convincing himself that he'd done something terribly wrong, and by all accounts he had - yet here she was, holding him close and not using him or luring him in with some hidden agenda, but just wanting him and needing him.
"Alicia," he said quietly, pulling his lips back from hers just barely. "You don't have to forgive me straight away and... I'll give ye any time and space ye need, just know I'm sorry, aye?"
It was a slow kiss, languid, as though they were almost relearning each other. Which was good; maybe that was what they needed. When he pulled back her eyes snapped up to his immediately, slightly panicked, but his words calmed her.
"I forgive you this time," she said, a slightly threatening look in her eyes, "since we weren't really together. If there's a next time you won't be so lucky. That doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. But...you're more important than holding on to being angry."
She pressed her lips to his jaw, nuzzling there for a moment.
"There won't be a next time," he assured, pulling her closer and hugging her to him. He kissed her temple and sighed in a bit of relief. He smoothed his hands over her back, a slow smile breaking out over his face. "Thanks," he mumbled against the skin of her temple.
She tilted her head back to smile up at him, feeling like she was back on an even keel. This new development was definitely good.
"Mhm. You can thank me for whatever you're thanking me for by coming over to the couch and snuggling with me. I just want to sit with you for a while. And then we can get food. Or rather, you can get food and I'll just sit here and you can wait on me."
He laughed, a bright happy sound, tickling her side before leading her over to the couch, still laughing a bit. "Whatever you say, ma'am. I live tae please, ye ken." He sat down and pulled her down into his lap, holding her very close and sighing a heavy sigh of contentment. This was a little different from before and a little bit the same. He liked it, liked her and liked knowing that he was-
"Ehm," he said after holding her close for a long moment. "So... are we together together, or just figuring it out on the low key together?" He asked tentatively, biting his lip and searching her eyes. "I mean, I'm up for whatever, but... maybe - I just... I-" Oliver paused and stroked her back thoughtfully. "I'm not sure if adding the stress of certain people's reactions to this might be wise, ye ken? Considering that a few people might... ehm - well they might bloody freak out and I'd rather just... focus on us first, yeah?"
She automatically curled into him, her legs tucked up and her side against his chest, her head resting comfortably on him. "I've been thinking about that, actually. And- Katie and Ang are my best friends, Oliver, I don't know how long I can keep something like this from them." Her eyes met his. "If you want to keep it quiet at first, though, I'm all right with that. As long as I get to be with you."
Her eyes closed as she returned her head to where it had been resting, and she exhaled softly. "Might take a short nap before we eat." He nodded, kissing her temple and continuing to stroke her back.
"I know - and they're important to me, too - and I'd wantae tell them, just.. not tomorrow, aye?" he laughed softly and kissed her forehead. "And ye're with me - dinna worry. Ye're with me." He kissed her temple before nudge her head up and kissing her lips.
"Kip a bit then. I've got ye. I won't let ye sleep too long, Li."